#(yes this counts as part of my au... which i still need a tag for)
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coming back with really mid art of middle aged businessman yaoi </3
#alek art#lego ninjago#ninjago#acronix#cyrus borg#futureshipping#time twins#2024#(yes this counts as part of my au... which i still need a tag for)#ignore how nix technically isnt middle aged. their ages average out its close enough#i spent all this time drawing and i didnt even have any dialogue thought out oops#this looks bad i didnt reallyyy try too hard on it oops . i haven't been drawing bc i haven't felt like it đ oops#future fans wya . i always talk about how much i like future and then never draw them#wdym borg industries blimp was what told wu that / when acronix would return . wdym the blimp stopped appearing after s7#acronix the borg industries car guy he fucking lovesss cars
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#WIP ⢠THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ËË ěŹěŹě¤ ⨞ ë°ě˘
ěą â¸Â part two of the playerâs game seriesâplaylist & series tag
the death of your grandma has you returning back to your motherâs seaside hometownâthe same town you left jake in a year agoâfor good. now that youâre back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesnât help that now youâre caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.
pairing ââ¸â¸â¸ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader đľ iΡcâudἹs đ cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jakeâs ex)
genreďšđďšâ¸â¸â¸ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance
warnings ââ¸â¸â¸ if you didnât like reader in the first part then you wonât like her in this one, readerâs grandma passing and mentions of readerâs dad passing, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, arguing, semi-public sex, size training, corruption kink full smut tags in actual post . . . !
kipoâs note ââ¸â¸â¸ this was a long time coming lmao iâm so so sorry to everyone who has been waiting (ââ¸âďź) with my month long break and adjusting to writing again iâm finally ready to start working on this series again! this is my main priority so i will try to get it out as soon as i possibly can!! this post will be updated as i work on it! ^^ all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! âĄ
release date â¸â¸â¸ sept 20th, 2024 â progress updates here!
âż [ teaser wc: 0.7k ] âż [ current wc: 26.1k ] â [ continue to . . . wips , masterlist ]
send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!
⢠READ HERE!
your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your motherâs seaside hometownâyour new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you werenât able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.
you never thought youâd be back here, never thought that youâd ever say goodbye to your own hometownâwhich was also your late fatherâsâbut here you were.
when your mom told you that youâd be moving here permanently you didnât know how to feel. one one hand, you understood your momâs decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything mustâve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.
it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didnât think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still havenât answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.
but you also couldnât help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldnât help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think youâre finally ready to face him again.
to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that heâd keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.
and if he didnât protect your heart, youâd pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.
ây/n? are you listening?â you heard your motherâs voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.
you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your auntâs house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.
âmhm,â you mumbled, though you definitely werenât listening.
your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. âis it that boy from last summer?â what was his name? jacob?â
âjake,â jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.
your mom snapped her fingers. âjake! thatâs it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! thereâs more wonderful people here than just jake.â she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.
it wasnât âjust jakeâ that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didnât want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.
getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.
jakeâs letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you mustâve read it a million times over now and still you could barely wrap your head around it.
âtwo people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, iâll wait for you.â
it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that youâre back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.
you: meet me at our spot.
⢠READ HERE!
taglist 1ďš OPEN! ďšâ¸â¸â¸ click here for series taglist! đˇď¸ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @un06 @nenesz @branchrkive @dreamiestay @lilyuwon @ghstzzn @kaykay11sworld @kirinaa08 @cherlv @zl-world @cloud-lyy @sunpov @samouryed @immelissaaa @y4wnjunz @who-tf-soddhi @minaateez @jajenoric @lilactangerine @chaconadine @americanojake @in-somnias-world @bobaikeu @cupidscourt @inkigayocamman @nctsshoes2 @helenngxz @jakeswifez @usnve @tasnim10 @deobitifull @won4me @zeeloveshee
send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!
âż [ continue on to . . . masterlist , wips , taglist ] all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! âĄ
Š jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
#ďšđďšjjunieworldâs ⊠wips đŻ#tpg series#jake x reader#jake smut#jay x reader#jay smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#kpop x reader#kpop smut#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#jake sim#sim jake#jay park#park jongseong#sim jaeyun#jongseong x reader#park jongseong x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#enhypen headcanons#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshot#enhypen drabble#jake sim smut#jay park smut#enhypen hard hours
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Swan song
Professor Viktor x TA Reader
[PART 1]・ ďžâž ďžď˝Ąâ[PART 2] â・ďžâď¸ď˝Ąâ[PART 3] (coming soon)
â・ďžâď¸ď˝Ąâ[AO3 link] â・ ďžâž ďžď˝Ą
Summary: Youâre a bright phD student who wonât shy away from a challenge. Getting the most notorious professor at the University of Piltover to hire you as his assistant is one of them.
Tags: Modern AU, SFW (for nowâŚ), DILF professor Viktor, romanticizing and eroticizing borsht, lab shenanigans, reader being filled with equal parts shame and lust
Word count: 7.8k
Notice: This fic is written with a transmasculine reader in mind, but that wonât come into play at all until the final third chapter of this mini-series.
Notes: A little something something while we await season two ;] The draft for this post deleted itself twice now. If the formatting looks wonky (especially in the texting section), NO, it doesn't. Shut up.
He didnât lie.Â
Which is all the more shocking, considering you attend his 8AM lecture on the very same day, and he seems more bright and alight than youâve ever seen him.
When did he find the time?
Though there isnât a daunting amount to your thesis just yet, you still want to believe youâve written something quite substantial over the past months.Â
You toss one glance around yourself before you follow him into his office after his lecture, and you find the stack of papers youâd left on his desk last night looking positively devoured, in the most⌠academic way possible. Scribbles and notes litter the margins, the edges of the papers are already somehow lightly worn.Â
He must have read it multiple times.
âCoffee?â He offers.
âYes, please.â
As he gropes the machine in search of its switch again, he cocks his brow at you. âAnd what was that for?â
You frown. âWhat was what for?â
âThat⌠glance, before you followed me into my office.â The switch clicks, the light comes on. âLooking around like you were being followed.â
âOh,â caught in the embarrassing act, you shrug. âI donât know. Being cautious, I guess. Students have been looking at me a little funny, lately.â
âMuch too late for caution, Iâm afraid.âÂ
Uh oh.Â
As he retrieves two paper cups, youâre left wondering what exactly that should mean.
âWhyâs that?â
âI thought you were well aware of the fact that rumors would start, um⌠circulating the moment I made it public that I had hired an assistant.â Coffee trickles into the cups, a soothing little melody. Viktor leans against the wall beside the machine as he watches the cups fill. âIâve always been adamant about not needing one. It is natural for people to have questions â and to come up with, eh, answers â when I suddenly do.â
The notion of the answers students might have come up with swirls around in your brain.Â
You wish they were right.
Youâre glad theyâre not.
You look at Viktor.
âDo you mind it?â
The coffee stops pouring. Viktor does that thing again, spreading long fingers apart to grasp both cups. And heâs quiet â for a beat longer than he should be.
âNo. There are more important things to worry about than⌠gossip.â He sets the cups on the table, then takes his seat. He hesitates for a brief second, craning his neck before he fixates on you, motionless. Waiting. âDo you?â
âTrying not to.â
The answer makes him⌠deflate, somehow. Itâs barely visible, for just a fraction of a second his chest sinks, before his tone is back to his composed cadence.
âYou will get used to it,â he assures. âNow, onto more interesting matters â your work.â
Thank god. You donât know how much more of the awkward tiptoeing you could have handled.
âYes.â Your heart leaps into your throat. Acting normal has never been so difficult. âWhat did you think?â
âVery impressive.â He slides the stack of papers towards you. âI have made some⌠suggestions here and there, should you wish to take them into consideration. But, I think you struck gold with your hypothesis. Should you need a conversation partner, guidance, anything at all â I would gladly be at your service.â
âThank you, Viktor. I really appreciate this.â
At the sound of his own name coming from you, something in him shifts. Shifts with an unfamiliar near bashfulness, he stifles a little smile into the rim of his paper cup, the corners of his eyes crinkle, he settles into his seat a little further.
âBut you never held up your end of the bargain,â you point out. That snaps him out of it.
âAh, yes. I did not.â He continues to hide behind his cup, before he finally seems to decide to take a metaphorical leap, as he sets it down and stares down at it. âI fear the unfortunate truth may be that when it comes to research, I either work better with a partner, or that⌠Cecil is right and I need to slow down. Though Iâd guess the former is more likely.â
âYou used to work with, uhâŚâ youâre not sure how to approach the topic, âTalis, didnât you?â
âThe five basic principles of applied arcanism are commonly referred to as Talisâ princies, you do not have to feign uncertainty to appease me.â
So you drop the attempt to tiptoe around the subject, and ask, plainly:
âWhy wasnât your name added on?â
Viktor scoffs. âTalis-Sidorov-Sviboda has a terrible ring to it. Or so heâd said. And admittedly⌠I was more of a conduit than the co-author of his idea. He said we would name the next big thing we would discover after me, but⌠well, you know how it is. I dedicated myself to teaching, he retired to lead a quiet life in his gaudy mansion with his sports cars and his purebred German shepherds after he married some businesswoman.â
Though his story does line up, those arenât necessarily the rumors youâd heard. Thereâd been talk of more than just a mild dispute of names, and⌠well, there had been⌠something between Talis and Viktor. But thatâs about all you know.
Under your gaze, Viktor grows suddenly uncomfortable â both with the subject and the fact that he might be able to tell you know more. Heâs quick to redirect the conversation.
âAs for my research: I have been studying the laminal hexoin cascade in stabilized hexgems in various matrices. And though bold, I have been attempting to figure out the ideal matrix â something that will allow for close to a hundred percent energy renewal and render all other sources of energy obsolete.â
âThat is bold,â you say. Your other thought, you keep to yourself: it also sounds impossible. You suppose stabilizing hexgems 20 years ago was also something thought impossible â and yet, Viktor hadnât shied away. If anyone is apt for the job, it is him. âAny luck so far?â
âPartially. They have been yielding favorable results, but not enough to be viable energetic alternatives as of now.â He takes his cup again, bringing it to his lips in a rushed movement, drinking a mouthful, rather than a sip. Once Viktor sets it down, his hand remains on the table, fingers tapping on the shiny surface once, twiceâ âI could use a theorist to assist me with a few things.â
The implication dizzies you. Is he�
But then he slides another one of his drawers open, and retrieves a stack of papers. Slanted handwriting, barely legible â youâre by now intimately familiar with it: his cursive. It litters the pages, in different inks and in pencil, diagrams, sketches⌠just looking at it makes you hungry to read it.
He smiles as if heâs read your mind, again.
âI was thinking it could be you.â
â
Youâre invited to his office for lunch break the very next day too. And though he assures you there is no pressure in having to read through his notes by then, you disregard it.
It takes you a reread to be able to make sense of all his scribbles, but⌠itâs brilliant. Heâs brilliant.Â
It should stop surprising you by now â his ideas, his drive, his curiosity, his mind â but with every single time Vikror impresses you anew, he becomes something more distant.
As youâre marveling at his intricate weaving of concepts, it strikes you, unpleasantly, that this is the same man youâd wanted to devour just days ago. The man whoâs made you coffee, the man whose sharp eyes fold at the corners when he smiles.Â
Youâd have deified him, had he been your teacher. You still do, especially now, after youâve seen more of what his mind is made of. The mere notion of him becomes terribly out of reach, and youâre plagued with guilt for that night. Guilt for having tainted such a man with your thoughts.Â
And yet, you still canât help but think of his neck, the soft pink of his chapped lips, the hollow of his cheeks. You wonder what his mouth tastes like, and you want to slap yourself on the wrist for it. You should have, because minutes later, you wonder about worse things too. The scent of his skin, the coarseness of his body hair, how far up under his navel it might reach.
And when you finish reading his notes a second time and bring the paper to your nose to sniff it â hoping for a trace of him â you realize you have a problem. A serious one.
It torments you for the rest of the night, through the hours you spend writing up some suggestions and ideas, all the way to when you switch off the light, and hug whatever pillowâs within reach close.
When you get the urge to tilt your hips against it, you decide to get up and splash your face with water.
And you wish you could do the same thing the very next day on your lunch break, when youâre standing in the doorway of his office and heâs eating borscht. The sweet-tangy smell of vegetables, beef and beets makes your stomach growl, but your physical hunger is long lost on your otherwise preoccupied brain.
The beet red of the soup has pigmented his lips. They look kissed raw, puffy, ripe. A lavish speck of colour on his otherwise pale face, it draws your gaze and does not let it stay somewhere more respectful.
You want to taste them.
He does it for you, raspberry pink tip of his tongue darting over the plush of his lips before he swallows and finally greets you.
âSorry,â you say, and it comes out tense, near horrified. Youâve caught him eating soup, for chrissakes, not being bent over his table. Oh, god. Why did you have to think about that? âIâll come back later.â
âNo,â Viktor gestures to the empty seat across from him. He screws his thermos shut, and puts it away. âPlease, Iâve been waiting for you. Sit.â
And you do, like the dog you feel like you are right now.
âDid you manage to find the time to read my notes?â
Oh, did you.
âI⌠followed your example and made some suggestions of my own. But on separate pages. Here.â
His reaction is more than what youâd hoped for. Itâs more than the impressed raise of thick brows that had kept you fueled last night, itâs more than the smile youâd been hoping for.Â
âYou are unbelievable,â he grins, and takes what you offer, pushing his glasses up his nose before he starts reading. You selfishly use the distraction to stare at his lips again. He mutters to himself as he reads, pink mouth molding around whispered jargon, nodding. âYes, this⌠this is exactly what Iâd hoped for, when Iâd asked for your assistance. Your fresh set of eyes is invaluable. I hadnât thought of approaching the modification from that angle.â
âIâm glad you think so.â
He doesnât take his eyes off the page for even just a moment, flipping it surprisingly fast, and taking it with him as he leans back in his seat.Â
And decides to torture you.
Viktor traces the pad of his own thumb over the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in your handwriting. The give of the flesh under his fingertip hypnotizes, the slight drag of rough skin on soft pink one, your mind is long gone.
You think of rough fingertips on his lips, on his chest, rough fingertips on the pasty white of his gaunt lower stomach, rough fingertips in coarse hair. Rough fingertips dipping between his milky thighs, rough fingertips on where he runs just as pink as he does on his lips, rough fingertips dipping, slipping on slick skinâ
You need to stop.
And you most certainly need help.
âIs something the matter?â
It feels like youâve swallowed your own brain whole when he speaks, because your skull rings hollow when you try to come up with a reply that isnât incoherent babble.
âWhâ me? No. Why?â
And because embarrassment loves to stick around once it has made its presence known, the stars align for the next social disaster: your stomach growls. Loudly.
âDid you not have lunch?â Viktor asks.
âI⌠didnât get around to it,â you admit.
âI wonât take up too much of your time, then,â he assures. If he knew just how much of your time heâs started taking up â and the fact that you wish you could give him what is left of it to him, too. âI would like you to work alongside me on my research. But if you donât feel like you can squeeze another project into your presumably busy schedule, I understand. I would be glad to have you merely as⌠a colleague to consult with, as well.â
Is that even a question? Heâs offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You would be an idiot not take it.Â
And an even bigger idiot to turn down more time spent with him.
âYou donât even have to ask,â you joke. âYes. I would be thrilled, Viktor.â
This is his first smile you witness when his pretty boyishness doesnât shine through. Itâs a gentle quirk of his lips, no teeth to be seen, just tenderness. It makes your heart leap to be the cause of it.
âThank you,â he says.
âThank you.â
Silence.
Just as youâre about to breach it â he does it first.
âWould you be free for lunch tomorrow as well?â
He watches you from below long, dark lashes as you give a breathless yes.
â
âI brought you something.â
Itâs the last thing you expect as you step into his office at noon, upon exchanging hellos.
Youâre alight. With curiosity, above all else. And with worry â why would he bring you something? What will you do to reciprocate?Â
âThank you,â you say, though you have no idea what for just yet. âWhat is it?â
âI saw you eyeing my borscht yesterday.â Thereâs a glint in his eye that suggests more, so much so you canât decide between flirting or digging a hole for yourself in the hardwood floor of his office.Â
The middle ground is standing in his office awkwardly as he unzips his backpack.
He retrieves two thermos bottles: the one youâre already familiar with, and another that looks older, more worn, and sorely lacks the sticker youâve so come to love and fixate on and dream about. âI, eh, I made you some. In case you wouldnât get the chance to eat before you came here.â
Your chest swells so much it hurts.Â
He made you soup?
âYou⌠Viktor, this is⌠thank you. You shouldnât have.â
âI wanted to. Have a seat.â
You practically jump into the seat across the table from his â a seat youâve come to associate as yours, in spite of being well aware of the oppisite.
As he screws the bottle open and pours some steaming soup out into a paper bowl â god, heâd brought paper bowls â his eyes flick to you.
âBut if you donât care for borscht, you donât have toââ
âI do care.â
And that rings true not just for the borscht.
It rings true for the soup he brings you the next day too, it rings true for every word that passes his lips. And it rings true for the time you start to spend in the insane coffee shop queue to surprise him with his preferred order and a slice of cake (a different one each day, until you figure out his favorite: cinnamon coffee), it rings true for the dark blue roughed up thermos he lets you take home the day you donât finish the soup he brings you because youâre just so busy talking.
Itâs November before you know it.
As the days grow colder, itâs not rare to be finding warmth by lavishing in Viktorâs attention as you ramble on about ideas â either for his research, or your thesis. All while he intently follows your thoughts with a smile, stopping just to shave another mouth-half-fullâs worth off his cake of the day with his plastic spoon.
And once he savors the last bite, Viktor almost always flips it hollow side down, sliding it down the swell of his tongue within his mouth, removing it from between puckered lips. His cheeks hollow, he holds eye contact all the same, and itâs a mental image that haunts you. A mental image you project in your mind, nestled between the apex of your thighs. The thick of his tongue. The cushiony seal of his lips, the suction of his cheeks.Â
It never becomes any less distracting than the first time it happens.Â
You startle when Viktor speaks as he sets down the plastic spoon into the now empty packaging.Â
âI would like you to accompany me to the lab sometime soon. When would you be free?â
Youâve been before â but just a handful of times. Mainly for him to demonstrate or disprove certain guesses, or test conclusions youâd reached together.Â
âIâm free right now,â you suggest.
Viktor shakes his head. âI have a lecture in an hour.â
Right.Â
âI mean⌠I think we could make it in an hour.â
âI prefer to take my time.â Viktor leans back in his seat, stares thoughtfully at the clock on his wall for a moment. âWould seven PM work for you?â
âUhâŚâ you mentally go through your schedule for the day, âyes. It should. I might be a little late, though. How about⌠seven fifteen-ish?â
âGood.â The flow of the word is syrupy, yet his next sentence comes out surprisingly peppy with excitement: âSee you then.â
â
Though youâre well into the final week of November, it never stops bothering you just how quickly the sun sets. By the time you get to the lab, the airâs gone cold, dry, and the darkness is heavy and thick.
Viktor waits for you just outside the university lab, under the halo of the street light â perhaps just a hint overdressed for the cold, in your opinion. Itâs certainly trench coat season, though his is surprisingly long, reaching somewhere along the middle of his shins. The hand he hasnât tucked in his pocket holds his cane and is clad in a leather glove. Around his lengthy neck, a red knitted scarf lays in chunky, impenetrable layers, reaching almost all the way to the swell of his top lip and his ears. You can hardly see his smile from underneath when he spots you â but his eyes give him away.Â
âRight on time,â Viktorâs tone has just as much pep to it as a few hours ago, perhaps even moreso. He rolls his shoulders, before he subtly nuzzles further down into his scarf, shying away from the biting cold. âLetâs get inside.â
He leads the way into the building, its warmth embracing you the moment you step in. The tip of your nose and your fingertips feel like theyâre beginning to thaw, tingling just a hint. As you go to take off your coat, you notice Viktor isnât in a rush. He rests his cane against the wall before he unwraps the thick, wide scarf from around his neck, folding it. He sets it on a nearby table, shucking off his trench coat, slender shoulders under a wool sweater. You watch closely as he then takes his scarf and stuffs it into the sleeve of his coat before he hangs it up.Â
Thereâs something stiff, painful, about how he moves. You wonder if itâs the cold.
âWhat?â He watches you with appeased amusement.
Caught red-handed, you jump, still halfway clad in your coat.
âNothing,â you reply, scraping for a way to deflect from your obvious staring. âNot a big fan of the cold?â
âNever.â He says it like itâs a very serious matter. âI still donât know how I made it through my first eighteen winters in St. Petersburg.â
âYou grew up in Russia?â
He laughs through his nose like youâve told him a half good joke. âWhat gave it away? The accent? The surname?â
âNo, I just thought⌠Svoboda is a Czech surname.â
With how his smile turns knowing, self-satisfied, youâre suddenly back in his office again, uncertain and nervous and asking for a job as his assistant. He could taunt you with the knowledge that youâve looked up his last name, embarrass you a little, play with you.
But he isnât that man anymore â not to you. This time, he feeds your curiosity, albeit just with crumbs.
âMy motherâs,â he clarifies. âSidorov is Russian â my fatherâs.â
Oh.
âItâs nice that they used both their names. Iâm assuming that wasnât⌠common, back then, and back there.â
âIt wasnât, and they did not.â Viktor waits for you to hang up your coat, watchful gaze making your every movement feel loaded with static thatâs about to snap. âI added hers when I changed my name.â
Changed his name?
The image of the sticker on his thermos turns up fresh in your mind, and you canât help but wonderâŚ
âWell? I was hoping we could discuss more in the lab, but if you prefer the coat hangerâŚâ
Goddamn it. Focus. You need to focus.
âSorry.â
You catch up, then slowly follow Viktor down the hallway, into the small lab he has been assigned. Itâs one of the less grand ones, but it has all it needs â from a pretty new hexion accelerator to a humble whiteboard. It smells sanitized, sterile, ozonic.
You assume your usual seat by the whiteboard while he sets up. It still doesnât feel⌠right to let him do all of that by himself, but he insists upon it, so, you stay out of his way. Viktor tidies up the space just a little, finding his goggles among the mess. He slips them onto his head, elastic pulling back his soft hair into a fluffy grey and brown mess. His cane thumps against the linoleum with every hurried step â though he doesnât seem to be hurrying on account of you being there as much as excitement to show you.
Once heâs done, he sits in front of the accelerator, slipping his goggles on, and nods for you to come. Which you do â youâd be at his beck and call beyond just the academic context. For a moment, you pluck the inviting tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips out of their context, and you plant it atop your own bed, him in just a loose shirt, underwear, lax with freshly received pleasure. More comfortable than heâs ever been, all because of you. Beckoning for you. Come here. Smiling at you when your knee dips into the mattress, tucking his index under your chin as you crawl to him, reeling you in for a kiss.
âCome closer.â
God help you.
You comply with a wildly beating heart, stepping forward until youâre close behind his sitting form, watching the accelerator over his shoulder.Â
He smells nice. Like an indistinct, aromatic cologne, covering up the natural, gentle musk of his skin. You have to resist the urge to dip your head down and trace the tip of your nose along his spine, from where the bones of his neck show to where the scruff at the back of his head goes thicker, fuller. You wonder if heâd shiver as you let the scent of him imbue you⌠you wonder if heâd lean into it, if heâd tilt his head for you, let you dip your face into the slope of his shoulder, where his scentâs more potent.
The mere thought of him, vivid in your nostrils and clinging to your palate and the floor of your brain, rattles you with a shiver.
âI thought Iâd rather show you than tell you,â he explains, wrapping both pale, bony hands around the handles of the accelerator. Steam hisses from the exhaust, flooding the room with more ozone, and gently, but certainly, the gem starts to spin behind the glass panel, beginning to levitate out of its socket, illuminating the room.Â
God, you should have put on goggles too, itâs making your eyes hurt. Itâs a welcome reminder as to why you chose to spend most your days staring down a blackboard rather than the thing itself. The screen right above it is more of a familiar sight to you: numbers, reading the rotations per minute, as well as energetic output, steadily increasing.Â
It whirrs, magic static whirling up around the blue orb, electricity crackles.Â
You can see the appeal of this over a blackboard. But youâd still take the chalk. Especially considering the deafening noise.Â
Nevermind the damn goggles. You need to remember to bring some ear plugs.
âWatch the panel.â Viktor raises his voice over the hum of the machine, and turns to you, watching you from behind foggy lenses with a smile. You wish you could see the way his crowâs feet deepen. It rumbles harder, so much so Viktor almost has to shout the next thing he says, which is a shame, because his usually playful lilt is lost in the noise of it. âNot to⌠spoil the outcome of this experiment for you, but I implemented the conclusions we came to last week, and, it is safe to sayâŚâ
With a well-timed click and tug on a lever, the machine disengages, and the gem drops back into its socket under the influence of gravity. Its violating light returns to a faint, blue glow, like an artificially lit aquarium; fluctuating and undulating gently in its intensity. The potential energy indicatorâs numbers climb back up, steadily, but faster than what youâve seen before.Â
Much faster.
You canât help but grin with excitement. âItâs regenerating fast.â
Viktor smirks at you over his shoulder like youâre sharing a sacred, intimate inside joke.Â
âIt is.â
You await the verdict with a bated breath.
âHow much?â
Viktorâs smile only grows, like heâs about to give you a present. And, all things considered, this is going to be one, in monthsâ or maybe even yearsâ time.
âA thirty-seven percent recovery after usage within an hour.â Viktor spins in the lab stool to face you with the theatrical self-satisfaction of a magician who just sawed his assistant in half and is waiting for the applause. You nearly forget to step back to give him the space for it, so much so your knees knock together. But there is no chance for you to apologize, Viktor is unbothered, sliding the goggles up his forehead enthusiastically, his show of complacency ditched in favor of pure excitement. âThat is more than Iâve ever achieved thus far. Thanks to yââÂ
His voice sticks in his throat, turning into a pained hiss.
His hairâs tangled in his goggles.
âOh, wonderful,â he grits out sarcastically.Â
A frustrated half-sigh half-groan rumbles in his chest as he pulls again and only makes things worse.
âCould you get me a pair of scissors? I should have some in the third drawer over there.â
âWait. At least let me try first,â you insist. Reluctantly, you step closer, and after a momentâs hesitation, Viktor lowers his head for better access like a feral animal letting itself be pet for the first time. He sits still, the sound of both your breaths suddenly loud in the tall, quiet room as youâre forced to step even closer. âCould youâŚâ
You nudge his ankles apart with the tip of your shoe.
He listens.
After a stuttering, fragile exhale, Viktor spreads his thighs.Â
You take the space offered. And you try not to think about kneeling, about making a home for yourself between his thighs.
âDo you think you can do it?â
You wish heâd asked you that about any number of things, except for the goggles tangled in his feathery, soft hair.
But yes. You think you do.
It would have been a terrible shame to cut it â though some shorter, bluntly cut hairs that sit a little further back near the top of his head tell you his suggestion was not the product of a new idea. Carefully, you pull whatever hairs are looser from between the lens and the bridge of the goggles, though a strand remains stubborn.Â
You try to ignore the warmth of his breath on your shirt, the intoxicating, soapy, yet distinctively human smell of his scalp, and the mesmerizing ratio of grey to dark brown, the subtle heat on the sides of your palms and wrists, resting on his head for stability.
As you separate another few hairs from the stuck strand and accidentally tug at them, Viktor has no reaction. Beyond swallowing thickly, and sitting through it dutifully.Â
You wonder if heâd act just the same, had you bunched his hair into the spaces between your fingers and tugged â simply biting his tongue and chewing through the pain â or if heâs leaned into the force, moaning with it, and god, youâve hurt him, and you havenât even apologized.
âSorry.â You sound twice as genuine â mainly because you apologize for much worse than the inflicted pain. âAlmost done.â
âThe scissors would have been faster,â he half-jokes.
His voice sounds different. A hint more⌠strained. He shifts in the seat, wipes his hands on his slacks.
âWould have been a shame, though. You have pretty hair.â The last part of the sentence positively escapes you, and once you hear it, you freeze. Your brain scrambles itself trying to add something that will fix the inherent following awkwardness, the horrifying realization you just called your boss pretty, the fact that itâs true, the fact thatâ
Viktor flinches with another accidental tug of his hair, and so do his thighs â jumping with the surprise, clenching together until they squeeze around yours. But theyâre gone just as fast, flinching away with horrified urgency. Before you get to savor the supple flesh pressing into your own in another new perverted way, before you get to imagine his ankles locking behind you, tilting and rubbing your hips into the hug of his thighs.
You need. To get. A grip.
âSorry.â
You continue on in silence, and thank everything above he at the very least canât see the way your hands shake, because heâs staring at the floor like he could drill a hole into it with just his eyes.Â
You should have gotten the damn scissors. As if through divine intervention, the rest of his hair comes loose not soon after.
âOkay. All done.â You smooth the slightly crinkled, but now free strand back down into the rest of his soft hair.Â
Viktorâs dainty features come into view from below his face framing pieces as he tilts his chin up. His lips quirk into a gentle smile, his eyes sparkle in the faint blue glow, soft shadows under the hollow of his cheeks and the swell of his lip and the tip of his nose and the bone of his brow. You wish you could immortalize him in whatever way heâd let you â a sculpture, a painting, a poem. He looks ripe for kissing, eyes half-lidded and twice as dreamy as he peers at you.
Youâre going to see him like this in your mindâs eye later tonight.
Nestled between your thighs, or kissing down your stomach, molten gold under long, dark lashes, sitting atop carved marbled bone.
âThank you.â He says it quietly â like it would break the sudden holiness of the moment to say it any other way.
Heâs so warm.Â
You could kiss him. See what the ozone of the room tastes like in the slick of his mouth. You wonder if heâd let you, if heâd suckle your tongue into his mouth in a show of submission, or if heâd bite your lip, licking your teeth, pressing, pushing, make you earn the privilege to taste him.Â
You wonder if heâd hold you, or if his curious hands would roam, tracing the front of your stomach, or your spine, or press to the middle of your breastbone like he wants to see where youâd split open for him down the middle like a ripe peach. You wonder if heâd let you dip a hand down the front of his slacks, you wonder if heâd tilt his hips into it like heâd been aching for it, aching for you. Scorching your hand with want, materialized in slick or straining hardness. You wonder which itâd be.
From where youâre standing, the distance between the apex of his chin and the space where his slacks stretch between his thighs is small â and your gaze takes the leap, searching. But the material dips and curves in such a way that youâre left none the wiser, and with nothing but a disgusting realization.
Youâre staring at your bossâ crotch.
You step back from the heat between his thighs, painfully awake, aware. It squeezes and wriggles in your chest like you have a parasite lodged in the chambers of your heart.Â
Youâre disgusting.
You need to put an end to this.
âYouâre welcome, professor.â
With that, youâre practically bolting from between his thighs, to stash the scissors away again.
Youâre neglecting your job, youâre putting it in jeopardy. Putting yourself in jeopardy, risking all the rumors circulating becoming a shameful truth, youâre risking the first man who ever kept up with you, followed you where you wanted to go and took you further â youâre risking it all because he makes you unbelievably fucking horny.Â
And itâs absurd. Embarrassing. You need to get a hold of yourself.Â
âI was⌠thinking, actually,â you begin, and want to punch yourself over how Viktor perks back up from where youâd left him. âAbout some things regarding my thesis that Iâd like your thoughts on.â
âOh. Of course.â You have got to be imagining the subtle disappointment in his tone. The second you let yourself believe itâs more than just a figment of your make-believe, is the second you will be doomed.Â
Viktor, with all his years and experience, would and does know better than to fall for his assistant. You know he does.
âWhatâs on your mind?â He prompts after your prolonged silence.
If he knew the half of it.
â
Youâre late.
And itâs a direct, shameful consequence of last nightâs lusting, the time youâd spent frustratedly tossing and turning and thinking of his mouth and his eyes and his scent, before youâd given in past midnight, and humped your hand into completion.
Thinking about him under you, about pressing your face into his neck, about pressing him into the mattress and rutting into him until he gushes and his tired body sings for you and his voice cracks. Until he breaks for you, until pleasure itself oils and unscrews all the biological cogs of his body and he comes out unstrung, reborn.
Viktorâs in a wheelchair.Â
And he looks worse for wear than youâve ever encountered him before, slumping in the chair and massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index, seemingly gathering his thoughts. Heâs dressed even warmer than usual, in a loose but thick, dark red sweater. Thereâs a colorful knitted blanket folded and set over the tops of his thighs.Â
Viktor doesnât acknowledge you when you come in and sit near the whiteboard, simply resumes his lecture as he regains his mental footing. And he goes on for a while, not sparing you a single glance, as he goes through powerpoint slides today, instead of his usual writing and hand drawn diagrams.Â
Heâs at it for a while, not as fast as his usual pace, but undeniably concise, certain. UntilâŚ
âThe energy output increases proportionately to the spin, and, with powerful enough matrices, some hexgems can create force fields of their own. This is a particularly common phenomenon in unstabilized gems as well, though with the activation of their force field, those tend to also create⌠ehâŚâ
Viktor stops, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. He frowns, mumbling something in another language, which, judging by the heavy consonants and squeezed vowel, youâd assume itâs Russian. The word must be slipping his mind, so you decide to help out.
âA shock wave.â
Viktorâs gaze cuts. Heâs looked at you with disinterest before, sure, but thisâŚÂ
He doesnât even turn his head to look at you, just eyes you from the corner of his vision like something unworthy of acknowledgment. You wish you could swallow your words back up.
âYes,â he says. âThank you. A shock wave.â
You donât say anything again for the rest of the lecture.Â
Once the door falls shut behind the last few students who have left the room, Viktor turns to you. You wish you could shrink; and it feels like you do, when he finally speaks.
âI appreciate your intention to help â but do not interrupt me again. I know what Iâm trying to say.â He sounds utterly unlike himself, both spent and angry. âI donât need help. Especially not in the middle of a lecture.â
âSorry.â
That alone softens him up a hint. He looks away, rubbing his thumbs against the wheels of his chair, before he speaks again. Calmer.Â
âJust⌠do not let it happen again.â
As he slumps in his seat, massaging at his temples, you understand that his anger⌠might not have been as directed at you as youâd initially thought. Heâd been snippy when his back hurt â having switched to a wheelchair must mean heâs in a lot more pain now.
And you understand his frustration. Heâd just gotten himself an assistant a few months back, and started a new project â looking like he requires help in front of his students is certainly not doing his reputation right now any favors.Â
âBut if thereâs other things I can do to make your day a little easier, Iâd like to do them.â
âNo, thank you.â He shakes his head, before he grabs both wheels and advances to where heâd left his bag. As he starts packing his things, he stops again, quietly groaning somewhere in the back of his throat. âWhere did I put my penâŚâ
Viktor eventually finds it right behind his water bottle on the table, tossing the both of them into his bag, shutting it tightly. You expect him to wheel himself over to the ramp that leads to the exit, but he just hangs his head, massaging at his temples again, before he looks at you.
âActually, Iâd like it if you went to my office and got me a silver tin box in the⌠fourth drawer on the left side of my desk. Do you have the key with you, or should I give you mine?â
âI have it. Iâll be quick.â
âThank you.â
And you deliver on your promise. You donât run, but you power walk there, and youâre back with (hopefully the right) tin box in the same lecture hall before his break ends.
Viktor takes it from you gladly, popping it open. It contains two foils of painkillers, one already half empty, a small ziploc bag of⌠gummies, and at the very bottom, some dark chocolate.Â
You must have pulled a bit of a face at the contents â particularly the gummies â because Viktor cocks a brow at you, before he faintly chuckles under his breath and pops three painkillers in one go.
After depositing the foil back in the box, he fishes out the dark chocolate bar. It looks to be the expensive kind, something Belgian â Viktor breaks off a piece, putting it in his mouth, before he holds it out to you.
âPeace offering,â he clarifies when you hesitate.Â
Youâd be a fool to turn him down. You take some â itâs rich, buttery, and melts on your tongue. It coats your mouth with its taste, dark and aromatic and unfortunately not as sweet as you thought Viktor preferred. Heâd always favored the almost disgustingly sugary cakes.
âDidnât think youâd like something so bitter,â you say.
âI do not. It sometimes helps with my migraines,â he tells you. âSugar makes them worse. A very⌠devastating discovery to make, as Iâm sure you can imagine.â
You wonder if right now is the right time to be curious â and you decide it might be.
âDo the migraines also affect your leg? Or the other way around?âÂ
âNo.â Viktor shakes his head, popping off another piece of dark chocolate. âThis,â he gestures at himself, the wheelchair, âwas just a very unfortunate⌠overlapping.â
âOh.â You grimace in sympathy. âFun.â
âA punishment for it, more like.âÂ
Whatâs that supposed to mean?
âLetâs hope my migraine eases up on me throughout this lecture.â He smiles at you â and for the first time youâve known him, he looks old doing it. Exhausted. The face of a man whoâs seen enough hardship for a lifetime, but has yet to cave under it.Â
You wish you could hold him. You wish you could melt it away, kiss it better, love it better. Whatever heâd let you.
You surprise both him and yourself when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and let your thumb rub a small circle over the wool.Â
Though he flinches at the first contact, once something in his brilliant mind unfurls and settles, so does he. Through the cracks, tenderness shines under the fatigue. Viktor can be soft â in spite of everything im his body and his past that protests against it. âThank you.â
You take your hand away sooner than youâd like â but at the ideal time to keep it from being anything more than a friendly touch.
âIâm glad I could help,â you say.
â
Viktor isnât there at all next week.Â
You come in on Monday to find his office empty during lunch break, and when you attend his lecture, itâs another professor from his department teaching it. The students donât seem all too excited about the change either â and you leave before it even starts.
Heimerdinger is none the wiser about Viktorâs situation when you talk to him â in spite of their shared history. He simply tells you heâd taken the week off and had arranged for substitutes.
You consider messaging him⌠and ultimately end up doing so, after some internal debate. You simply text him to get well soon and that you hope heâs getting some well-deserved rest. He replies with just a plain thank you.
Tuesday is quiet. You receive a stack of midterms you need to get through from the substitute, and you do, by Thursday morning. Which is when Heimerdinger messages you.
Dr. Prof. Cecil B Heimerdinger
Good morning! Iâm well aware this is on very short notice â but the substitute professor has unfortunately suffered a minor car accident. Not to worry; they only sustained small njury. However, I am finding myself forced to task you with Viktorâs lectures today. Do you think you could take care of that? Thank you.
-Cecil B. Heimerdinger
9:32
Just the thing you needed â teaching two full lectures, entirely unprepared.
Alright. Youâve got this. Youâve got this. You just need to find out whatâs even on the agenda for today. You could text Viktor, right? If he answers on time, that is⌠heâs sick, he might as well be asleep right now. You could call, but⌠he said only to do that in the case of an emergency when he gave you his phone number.Â
Would this count as an emergency?
Your phone beeps.
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
There should be a black flash drive in the third drawer on the left in my desk. It has all my lectures.
9:34
Todayâs topic is LHC segments naturally occurring in unstabilized gems. Feel free to use my work laptop to familiarize yourself with the presentation before the lecture.
9:35
Me
Thank you so much!Â
9:35
His answer comes a few minutes later, just as you fish the flash drive out of his drawer, and plug it into his laptop.
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
Good luck đÂ
9:42
It would be a lot easier to get caught up in the desire to snoop around on his laptop if you didnât have less than 20 minutes left until the lecture. His background is disappointingly the default image, but some of his folders look undeniably tempting â not just the scientific ones, which take up most of the space. Thereâs some photo albums titled with the year and location: Germany 2011, Czech Republic 2009, among many others. Thereâs also a photo album titled Persichka.Â
Who is that?Â
You almost click it. But then you check your watch again and realize you only have 15 more minutes until the lecture, and decide against it.
â
For how utterly unprepared you are, it goes surprisingly well. You stumble, once or twice, but youâre glad to see that even by the end of the lecture, you still have most studentsâ attention.
After you dismiss the class, you donât expect questions. But a good handful of them, a little under ten, approach your desk, whispering among themselves, before a hastily appointed representative emerges.Â
âWe were just wondering,â she awkwardly begins, âif professor Sidorov-Svoboda is alright. And when heâs coming back.â
âOh.â You hope theyâre asking because they understandably prefer him, and not because you did a particularly shabby job. âHe texted me just today â heâs doing alright. But I canât give you an exact estimate for when heâs coming back just yet.â
âOkay. Thank you.â
With that, all of them turn to go. After the last student has left the room, you reach for your phone, and pray you donât see any other day-altering messages today.Â
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I did not mean for you to have to do this.Â
10:11
You unlock your phone and jump straight into the chat.
Me
Donât worry, itâs alright. I handled it :)
12:02
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I knew you could.
12:02
Thank you.
12:02
Me
Focus on resting up and getting well soon!Â
12:03
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I have been. I actually feel well enough for company now. Coincidentally, Iâve gotten some ideas for your thesis and I would like it if we discussed them sometime. Would you be free this weekend?
12:05Â
He wants to meet? Outside of the university? Undoubtedly for academic purposes still, but your heart squeezes and bounces and pops with the implications.Â
No. You shouldnât let yourself hope for more than just a few formal, at best friendly hours spent together.
Viktor doesnât want you. He would never want you â he knows better. You know better.
Me
Iâd like that! Saturday works for me. Where would you like to meet?
12:05
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
If youâd prefer somewhere on academy grounds like my office or the coffee shop, either would be fine.
12:06
My apartment is also an option.
12:06
The choice is obvious.
#viktor arcane#viktor arcane x reader#arcane viktor x reader#arcane viktor#viktor arcane x you#reader insert#my writing
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Wildflower and Barley
Pairing: Robin Hood! Hobie Brown x princess! Reader
Word count: 10.1k
Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, medieval au, Robin hood au, royalty au, R has unnamed parents and siblings, cw food mentions, mentions of arranged marriage, cw suggestive, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff. Part 2 of the Robin Hood au.
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Octobie đ¸
Part one <<<
Now dry and out of your sopping wet clothes, and now free of mud caking your skin, you look at the various trinkets and knick knacks littered around the small yet well decorated room. Aunt Janet was kind enough to lend you some clothes and let you stay in the treehouse which surprisingly had a wooden contraption that brings you up and down the tree without you even setting foot on the ladder. Aunt Janet told you that Hobie invented it and calls it a âliftâ. You thought he was a genius for coming up with it. Just thinking about climbing up with that huge mess of a dress of yours gives you a headache.
The room they've temporarily put you in is cozy, the bed is carved with various woodland creatures on it with vines and swimming fishes etched on the headboard. The wooden bed is covered in soft quilt blankets piled up to make the bed softer. It's pretty, you thought. Janet and the others are nicer than any captors you've ever had. Well, except for your would be suitor, you find him annoying with his pretty eyes, handsome smile, scent that wakes the butterflies in your stomach and calloused hands that are warmer than the blazing sunâ you're done for.
A knock wakes you up from your stupor, turning around, you clear your throat and thoughts of Hobie.
âYou decent?â His voice almost makes you dizzy, it's either that or you have a looming concussion from your recent fall. You won't know until you see him for yourself.
âYes, I'm dressed.â
Hobie opens the door, you notice his different outfit this time. He has leather bracers on with tiny spikes protruding on each of his wrists. His blue pants fit him better now than the clothes that you surmise he nicked from an unfortunate courtier. A blue tunic with jade green thread is stitched at the hems, and a thick belt helps cinch his waist as if it needed the help. You swallow down your loud beating heart, but it doesn't help when you spot the silver and gold piercings he now has on his ears and face. His hair is more gorgeous than ever with the silver accents weaved and placed around it like tiny stars dotted on his hair.
He raises a pierced brow, hand reaching up to place it atop the doorway to lean on it while the other hand is on his hip. His waist length cloak unfurls behind him, draping him in brilliant blue, revealing the spider stitched on the cloth. Unbeknownst to you, he's admiring you too. Now without the layers upon layers of fabric hiding you, he sees the real you without all the jewels shining in his eyes and the crown glaring down at him as if he's unworthy of your gaze. He tries to shakeâŚwhatever he's feeling but it keeps coming back to him whenever he meets with your pretty eyes.
So he plays it off casually even though he could only see you in front of him and his senses seem to dull within your presence. He just chalks it up to you being attractive in his eyes. Sure, that could only be it, right?
âSee somethin' you fancy?â
âNo, just staring at the bow and quiver of arrows on you. Have you finally decided to kill me? I know your aim is nothing to be scoffed at.â You don't show an ounce of fear.
Hobie snorts, ânah, just admirinâ you in my room, and coat.â
You scoff, not believing that Janet would place you in his room *and dress you in his clothes. So you turn your head away to avoid looking at him. You suddenly find an unassuming lute more interesting, or rather acting like it is. âYou weren't lying about the lute. Do you still play?â
He follows your gaze towards the well loved instrument. âYeah, dâyou?â
âNo, but I do know how to play the piano as it was required of me.â
He raises his chin, gesturing towards you as you cross your arms atop your chest. âIf you could choose, what instrument would you like to learn?â
âWhy?â You chuckle at the uncommon question.
âJust askinâ âm a curious lad.â He shrugs with a small smile.
âThe flute probably.â You sit on the soft bed. âI always loved how it sounded.â
âI think a flute would suit you, princess.â Hobie crosses the small distance, he then sits on a stool adjacent to the bed. He's quite close to you, knees brushing along your own. But not close enough to feel how your breath hitches in your throat.
âDon't mock me, Hobie.â
He knits his brows together. ââm not, that was genuine.â
âAlright, why do you think it would suit me?â You lean closer, elbows placed atop your thighs and chin resting on your palms.
He tilts his head with a quiet chuckle. âYou have the lips for it.â You're taken aback, a satisfying reaction for him. âBut do you have the lungs for it, love?â
Silence stills the air around you two as you try to breathe in and out while he waits for a response with his unreadable gaze towards you.
â...stop fucking with me.â You say with a loud scoff, standing up and hitting his knees when you walk away to face the window on the far end of the room. His chuckles continue as you put your arms on your chest, huffing and puffing away the warmth from your cheeks.
âYou're easy to tease, princess.â He wipes a tear from his eye after recovering from his bout of laughter. âI didn't even know you have it in you to curse.â
You abruptly turn around. âI want to get out far away from here.â
âIs my joke that bad?â He says with a raised brow.
Sighing, you put your foot down, steely gaze staring right at him. âYou saw how they treated me, I don't want to marry a stranger and become like my siblings.â
âYou were ready to marry me.â He pretends to not understand. Or that's what you think, he's riling you up again to get a reaction from you.
âI was pretending so the courting would stop.â A half lie on your end. You're attracted to him, sure, but you thought that marrying him would be the lesser evil than marrying some pompous rich lord who would only treat you like a walking womb. Inhaling, you continue. âI don't want to be stuck.â
Hobie's gaze turns serious. âIs that why you barely fought back?â
You rub your face tiredly. âYes. I don't want to end up like the rest of my siblings. I want to have a life, a life that doesn't end with me dying during childbirth or being killed because of my husband's mistress hired an assassin!â
âThat sounds oddly specific.â
âBecause that all happened to them. I'm a sister to ghosts.â You don't realize that a single tear is sliding down your cheek. Quickly wiping it away, you don't notice his eyes filled with empathy. âI'll tell you about the secret passages in the castle that would lead you to the royal jewels.â Hobie blinks and perks up in his seat. âin exchange, you bring me with you to grab my thingsââ
âAs much as I want to see you lock pickinâ your way in your own castle, you'd be a liability, princess.â Hobie stands up with his hands placed on his hips.
âWithout me you'll get lost in the passageways. It's a labyrinth in there, I once got lost in there for an entire day before my handmaiden found me.â You explain. âAfter the whole ordeal, you'll flag down a ship for me heading towards the northern territories.â Walking towards him, you face him fully with your finger jabbing him at his toned chest. âThen and only then, we'll be even.â
Hobie sniffs, nodding along. âThat's all then?â
âYou're not gonna ask why the north? Or ask me to map the passageways instead of coming with you?â
âWhy should I ask when I already know the answer, hm?â He takes a step forward, closing in on you while your accusing finger gets trapped in between him and you; in turn, you put your palm on his chest as he smirks down at you. âI won't ask you to draw a map because I don't trust you, blue blood. As for the first partâ Your royal pain in the arses don't have power over in the north ever since the rebellion. And you'll be safe there until you can hitch a ride out of the country. As long as they don't find out that you're the princess.â
You don't back down, challenging him with your head raised high. âThat's why you'll forge documents for me.â
âWho says I will?â
âWell, you got into the palace, and the only way you did that was taking on the identity of some poor sap who might've stopped in the middle of the road to help some injured woman orâŚâ you push him away, looking at him up and down without shame. He looks befuddled, but he recovers quickly, expression turning into amusement. Even enjoyment from the banter. âSome man screaming for help. Either way, he has been your mark ever since you planned this whole thing. And it wouldn't have worked without some legitimate looking papers.â
âOr we stole the papers from him when we took his clothes.â He dares you.
âYou could've, but you were worried that he won't have it or it might rip during the scuffle.â You click your tongue. âHence the dried up ink, stolen seal of the registry and hundreds of balled up parchment on top of your desk says otherwise.â a smile slowly spreads across his face, a sign that you're right. âDo you want me to tell you that I was your plan B or do I have to explain to you how I found that one out?â
âI have to train you in case shit gets hairy.â He flicks his eyes downwards and then without shame, he roams his eyes up to your determined eyes. âWhip you into shape and shed all that royal ego off of you.â
âYou have to train me?â
âI don't trust anybody else with you. My closest crew could but I'll still be there watchinââ Hobie reaches for your hand, waiting for you to close the deal. âYou might charm the trousers off âem. Do we have a deal, princess?â
âDo you agree with my terms?â
He shrugs, hand still in place. âAs long as you don't leave us high and dry when the time comes.â
âI give you my word, take my tiara as a sign of my cooperation.â
âI already have it.â He flicks his eyes to his hand, fingers stretching out, still waiting. You raise a questioning brow, âfine, I pinky promise, princess.â
âOnce more, but without your mocking tone.â
Hobie tamps down his laughter by biting his lip, with a sigh, he relents. It's not a bad deal, you get to leave and not snitch to your parents on where Doverhill is, and he gets the jewels to feed his people and lessen any unwanted encounters with your stealth approach.
âDeal,â taking your hand, he shakes it.
âGood, when do we start?â You say with determination in your eyes.
â
Your face hits the mud covered ground with a resounding smack. Your audience cheers and Maydayâs giggles egg you on to stand up despite your face full of thick mud clinging to your cheeks.
âCâmon now, princess, it was just a shove!â Yuri teases you some more as she stands behind you.
Lifting up your head, you see Hobie leaning on the fences while munching on an apple casually. âTold you to dodge.â
You lift yourself up by your elbows, muddled eyes glaring at him. âI thought you were supposed to train me!â
âI am.â He takes a juicy bite from the fruit. âI didn't want to be responsible for marring your pretty face. And Yuri volunteered.â
âAnd I'm so glad I did!â She jumps up and down on the mud, invigorated by the so-called fight. âCâmon and get up, I want to show you my upper cut!â
âOh god.â You thump your head on the mud. âI thought you'd teach me how to lock pick or even archery.â
âNah, you gotta earn that.â He says while chewing. âWe've got a month until they take out the red alert on the castle, you've got plenty of time to train, love. Besides, free entertainment.â He unfurls his long arms, and cheers erupt from the children watching you get your ass beat by Yuri.
Standing up on wobbly feet, you continue to scowl at him. âI hate you.â
Hobie does something you least expect, winking and keeping his eyes glued on your own as if he's imagining that you're the apple that he's currently taking a bite out of.
Flustered, you turn away from him. The second you put your fists in front of you, you get
knocked out by Yuri and her fierce uppercut. Darkness envelops you while you fall down on the soft ground.
You've got a long month ahead of you.
â
âFuck!â You curse after breaking what must've been your fifteenth lock pick. Throwing it away, you thump your head against the wooden door, feeling the rough material under you. âCan I at least get the better lock pick instead of using your shitty ones?â You address Hobie, who's sitting on the bed while mindlessly strumming his lute. The sound would've been lovely but with your situation, you just find it annoying.
âYou know the answer to that, blue blood.â He glances briefly at you, throwing another leather pouch at you that you already know is full of badly made lock picks. âYou're stuck with me until you open the door.â
âThis is torture.â You narrow your eyes at him, knees aching from how long you've been kneeling down on the floor. Not even the pillow underneath you is helping. âAnd this one won't even work!â You show him a bent lock pick.
He mocks you by opening and closing his hand like a yammering mouth. Your supposed mouth.
You've had enough, your stomach is growling and the back of your neck is sweating. So with a precise aim, you throw the bent metal at him. It lands straight in the hole in the middle of his lute.
âWhat the fuck?!â His astonishment makes you guffaw.
âI told you that we should've started off with archery.â You say in a sing-song tone. His mouth opens widely, and with you having twelve siblings, you already know what he's about to do. âDon't you dareâ!â Hobie screams at the top of his lungs, prompting you to cover your ears. âYou're a child!â He strums his guitar loudly and without a thought. âStop!â
He stops to catch his breath. âI'll keep screaminâ until you unlock that bloody door.â
âNoâ!â
He shouts again, and you immediately try to lockpick your way out of your personal hell. The metal breaks again, and you stop yourself from throwing it at him again. At least he seems to be having fun.
â
The stew is warm in your hands and the chatter reminds you of dinners back at home when your siblings still lived there. You look at the long tables placed in the town hall where they serve dinners every night to provide a sense of community within the village. They all eat together, laughing with their families and friends while you're left standing at the far end by your lonesome.
You find that there's no place for you here.
Beginning to turn around, you feel someone tugging on your shirt. Looking down, you see a hair of red and freckles staring up at you with her big blue eyes.
âHi, Mayday.â You give her a tight-lipped smile. You can still feel how the ground met your nose.
âAunt Janet asked me to say sorry to you.â
You wait for her to do so.
âBut I don't want to.â She says defiantly.
âAlright then.â You try to walk away but she stops you by pulling at your borrowed coat. âWhat is it?â
âDo you want to eat with us?â She glances behind her. When you look at the table, you see Hobie's entire crew merrily chatting and eating while the man himself meets with your eyes with a glint in those hazel eyes. Pouting, she tugs at you again. âWhen Aunt Janet asksââ
âI'll tell her that you apologized.â
She puffs her chest out, curly hair cascading down her cheeks. âGood,â leading you towards the table, she continues to pull at you. âYou have to meet Miles and Gwen!â
As you get closer to the table, Hobie smirks and tells people to make space for you to sit down. You can't help but smile at him while Mayday excitedly introduces you to Hobie's crew that you already know by name. Of course you wouldn't tell her that, lest you get on her bad side again.
Mayday talks your ears off after getting used to you. Even after dinner and when people start cleaning up, she stays with you and asks you numerous questions about your time being a princess and living in a golden castle; all the while you braid her hair out of her face which she's happy enough to stay still for you.
âDo you bathe in milk?â She asks while you brush her hair. âDo you have a dragon?â She gasps. âA pony?!â
âNo, no and yes, I did have a pony.â You chuckle.
âDid? What happened to it?â
You blink, hands pausing on her hair. âI don't know actually.â
Mayday turns around, brows furrowed at your expression. âThey sent it to the farm didn't they? Hobie said that Jared is at the farm too.â
âJared?â
âMy squirrel!â
You fully understand what the farm actually is. â...Sure, probably.â
While you continue to tie her hair, you don't notice Hobie's soft gaze towards you as he leans on the doorway with his hands in his pockets and with a smile that never leaves his lips with every topic you and Mayday talk about.
âCareful now, don't fall for her.â Ned suddenly appears by his side, voice whispering, sending goosebumps on the back of his neck. ââDonât fall for the mark,â remember?â
Hobie cranes his neck towards Ned, who teases him with a light smirk. âI bloody know, Neddy, âm not daft. She's a princess.â
âAnd? That doesn't mean you're immune to falling for her. Hell, there's a reason why I've kept James away from her.â
Hobie snorts, arms crossed over his chest. âJames fancies her?â
âI smell jealousy, Hobart.â Ned half jokes. Hobie glares at him, jaw tightening before he opens his mouth widely. âNo!â Before Hobie could yell (as if he would at night) Ned is already running away with his hands cupping his ears.
With a victorious chuckle, he returns to watch you interact with Mayday only to find a gaggle of children asking you questions and requesting for you to braid their hair too. Your smile brightens up the night while you try to placate each child with patience and a childish grin. He blinks and he meets with your eyes that look at him with a tender gaze.
He's in trouble.
â
The string in your hand is taut and rough against the pads of your fingers, a stark contrast to the smooth wooden bow in your other hand. You close one eye, aiming directly at the painted target that looks awfully like your father.
Hobie stands next to you with his own bow in hand, eyes trained on your posture, making sure you don't hurt yourself by standing close to you. The sun bares down on both of you while birds chirp, and the wind blows gently at the canopies.
âRemember to inhale before lettinâ go.â
âHow philosophical.â You raise a brow, and with a sharp inhale, you let go of the arrow. It soars above, curving atop the target and landing on the grass behind it. âDamnit.â
You expect Hobie to laugh at you or tease you, instead, he walks towards you. ââere, let me.â With a nod, he corrects your posture. The tip of his fingers push lightly at your shoulders, straightening your back. You then feel his knuckles ghost above your spine, tracing it without touching you. âKeep your shoulders aligned with your hip.â His warmth radiates off him as he gently holds your hips, pushing and twisting you to position your body to the correct position.
You stand like a marble statue in his space, you dare not breathe, afraid that he'd let you go. âWhat now?â You ask while he nocks an arrow in your bow with his hands briefly brushing along your own.
âNowâŚâ with his fingers holding your chin, he moves your head. Feeling his calloused skin on your warming flesh. âYou shoot.â He whispers against the shell of your ear before leaving your side. âI know you could do better than the lockpick.â
Your head is all jumbled up because of him, how could you train in this condition? More or less shoot a sharp projectile?
âCâmon, princess, I don't have all day.â You can practically hear his smirk from his tone.
âAsshole.â You curse under your breath, nocking back the arrow to release. To his surprise but not to you, it flies overhead, much higher and farther from your last shot. The arrow overshoots, soaring over the trees and out of the village. âAh shit.â
Now he laughs, âwhat happened, hm?â He nudges you with his shoulder while chortling at your miserable aim.
You glare at him, chin hidden atop your shoulder to mask your flustered self. âIt was the wind.â
Hobie shakes his head with a chuckle, âdon't think so.â Without looking at the target, he loads an arrow, quickly nocking it back and shooting directly at the sack target. âSee?â He proves his point. Smirking, he nocks three arrows at the same time, and again he doesn't look at what he's aiming. Pulling the bow string, you can see his muscles straining from under his tunic, you barely even saw the arrows fly and hit the target simultaneously and effortlessly. Breath stuck in your throat, he smirks triumphantly at you.
âShow off.â You hide your impressed expression with a well timed scoff.
Hobie's satisfied with your reaction based on his lopsided grin. âCâmon, we need to get that arrow.â He says as he places his bow on his back, quiver placed right on his hip like always.
You groan, tired from today's activities. You're more than ready for lunch. You still have a full schedule after this session. âWhy? You have plenty of arrows.â Gesturing towards the bucket full of arrows, you complain.
âBecause if someone sees that they'll figure out that there's a settlement nearby.â He pats your back, urging you to walk with him. You stand there, groaning at the thought of hiking. âI can't let you go alone, can I? You might run.â
âAnd here I thought you were concerned for me because of the bears.â You follow him.
âIf we see one I'd let it get you.â He smiles, waiting for your reaction.
âNo you won't.â You roll your eyes.
You two reach the vines, he orders his people to unfurl it. âMaybe I will, maybe not. You don't know that, love.â
He passes by the âgatesâ nodding a thank you at the guards on watch. One of them seems to look at you for far too long. Too long for Hobie's liking, he snaps his head at the said guard, prompting him to return to his duties while avoiding Hobie's gaze. You saw the whole interaction unfold, giving you the right teasing ammo.
âI didn't know that you're the jealous type.â You walk with your hands behind your back while you continue to follow him. He knows the forest better than you, and you'd rather not get lost in it.
âI don't know what you mean.â He swipes away at a branch, lifting it up to let you pass through unscathed.
You nudge him, pushing him lightly as leaves crunch underfoot. âSure you don't.â
âYou always know how to rile me up. And not the good kind.â He fights back with his own teasing.
âLikewise, Hobartâ!â A protruding tree root catches your foot, making you stumble and trip over it. Before you could fall and meet the ground once again, Hobie catches you in his arms. Cheek pressed on his chest, arms holding him close.
âShould I start callinâ you clumsy?â He rhetorically asks while he's still holding you in place. You don't find it in yourself to let go.
âAnything to keep you from calling me princess.â You huff, and you see goosebumps appear on his skin.
âI'll do it if you stop callin' me Hobart.â You feel his breath fan the top of your head, and his fingers splayed over your back.
Leaning away, hands still on his chest, you look at him with feigned annoyance. âFine.â
Hobie sees himself reflected in your eyes while leaves dance in the wind. The cacophony of the forest lulls you and him into a bubble of affection, just you and him in the vast greenery of the land you call home.
His hands latch off from you, with one last look, he leads you where the arrow could've landed. You follow him wordlessly, his back facing you while he guides you.
Soon after, the silence fades away as you hear the rushing of water. Hobie pushes a thick bush away, parting it to reveal a waterfall and a clear pool hidden in the deep forest.
It takes your breath away. âWow.â You gasp, eyes shining at the glimmering water.
Hobie watches your reaction with a fond smile, âPretty, innit?â
âBeautiful.â You turn towards him, smiling brilliantly.
For a moment, you two share a look, just languishing in each other's presence while listening to the water cascade down the pool.
Clearing his throat, Hobie returns his attention towards the water only to see the arrow embedded at the bottom of the mirror-like pool. He chuckles when he spots the scales underneath the tip of the arrow.
âAt least you hit somethin' this time, clumsy.â
You follow his gaze, walking closer until your shoes hit the cool water. âIs that?â
âLunch.â He grins, âand I've got the perfect place to cook it.â Gesturing with his head at the waterfall, you tilt your head questioningly. âCâmon then.â
â
You're drenched from head to toe, Hobie didn't say that you had to walk into the waterfalls to reach it. And by it, he meant his secret hideout hidden behind the waterfalls. It's a sizable cave with its moist walls and camping gear that he must've left behind for himself.
You warm yourself near the fire while he rubs salt and spices onto the fish that he's preparing. âDo you take all your women here?â A half joke on your end.
âOnly the fit ones that provide lunch.â He glances at you with a smirk while you hide your face in your hands, pretending to rub it and warm yourself. âWhy leave?â
âLaying it on thick, Hobie?â
âAlright, do you want bread with your fish?â
âSureââ
âToo bad, we don't have bread.â He places the fish in the hot skillet, it sizzles in place, the smell making your stomach grumble. âSo why leave your cushy life? Dâyou really want to be a jester?â Joking and recalling your words you uttered in the throne room a few weeks ago, you roll your eyes with a small smile.
âSimple, freedom. All my life I've been told what to wear, what to eat and when to speak. For once I want to decide for myself, even if it means leaving my cushy life behind.â You squeeze out water from your sleeve. âIâit's not like I decided on a whim. I've been trying to leave ever since I heard that I'll be the next one to be married off. I know it'll be hard after, but I know it'll be worth it.â You meet with his eyes, âYour turn, why do you have this secret place of yours?â
âFor debauchery, of course.â
You chortle, âI don't know if you're lying or not.â
He mirrors your smile. âI like my silence.â
You instantly know what he means. âI have twelve siblings, I like my silence too.â
âSiblings,â he repeats with a soft smile while staring at the crackling fire. âI guess Ned and the others are my siblings.â
âI guess they are.â You say delicately. âMy turn to ask the heavy question, why do you doâŚâ you gesture at him. âAll of it? The risk is higher than the reward you get for stealing shit from aristocrats, so why don't you keep it for yourself?â
Hobie turns the fish around, cooking it fully until it's golden brown, letting your question simmer in his mind. ââm content, love, I've got my place, and I've got my people. Why do I need to hoard wealth when I've got everythin' I could ever need?â He chuckles softly, âI steal from the wealthy to give back to the people they stole from. They need it the most, and I don't do it for satisfaction, I do it so that people have a bigger chance of surviving another day when their own lords fail to provide for them. Or in most cases, their king.â The fish sizzles, filling the cave with smoky air. âI failed my people once, I won't let that happen again. You'll never understand it, princess.â
You look at him through the flames, âthen let me see. Let me understand. Show me all the failings my blood has done.â
Hobie gazes back with an unreadable expression. Silence replaces the smoky air, you can only hear the cackling of the fire and the rushing of waters behind you. After a while, Hobie speaks again. âWhat are you planninâ to do after all this?â
âAsking me out, Hobie?â You manage a jape after the previous heavy conversation. An attempt to lighten the silence.
âCare to find out?â Your teasing backfires. His lopsided smile makes you falter, heart thudding loudly while your skin feels like the poor fish who met the end of your arrow. He always recovers faster than you.
You look at a rock in the corner, trying to play it cool but he can't be fooled by your failed attempt at hiding your sheepish self. â...probably a flower shop.â You mutter.
âWhat's that, love? I can't hear you.â He riles you up again, hand placed behind the shell of his ear in a mocking fashion.
You sigh, brows furrowed and cheeks aflame. âI said I might start a flower shop.â
âI didn't peg you as a horticulturist.â
âI don't know, it just sounds nice.â You play off your lack of plan casually.
Hobie laughs and shakes his head while he takes the skillet away with a cloth around the handle. The fish still sizzles, and smells mouth wateringly good. He then takes out a knife, cutting your share while smoke wafts out of the meat. Giving you a piece, you take it without a word, embarrassment still lingering in the pit of your stomach.
He reaches for a piece himself, lifting it up like a goblet towards you. âTo not havinâ plans.â
You guffaw above the rushing water, âto not having plans.â âClinkingâ your lunch with his, you happily eat with Hobie, occasionally laughing at the banter.
â
You make your way towards the city center with your disguise billowing in the wind. Your dark cape and hood makes you blend into the cheering crowd, oblivious to your stealthy movements. You're out of Doverhill and into the city where you were born and raised, but you've never been out in the actual streets in your entire life. You can see the castle, your home looming over the cramped city. The same city you've always looked at with longing through your bedroom window. You once dreamed of stepping foot on the cobblestone, to interact with your subjects and listen to their problems so you could help in any way a princess can. And now that you're in the thick of it, you now see the truth.
The city is filled to the brim with people surviving on measly coin for the entire day. Mothers, who have barely anything to feed their children. The elderly begging for scraps. People, *your subjects, scrounging for leftovers in the streets when up in the palace, your family and the courtiers had everything they could ever eat and more. If not for Hobie giving you one final task, a test to see if you can handle the heist that you've helped plan together with him and the rest of the crew; you wouldn't have seen how bad it is in the land you love and cherish.
You grip onto your hood tighter, wandering the streets all the while avoiding Hobie and his crew. He tasked you to pick a mark within his group to steal a single coin without being noticed or caught. If you do it successfully, you get to join them and do what you need to do before leaving the country, only to never return.
Blending into the gathering crowd, you finally see Hobie and his crew that you've grown to know. Yuri helped you with your hand to hand combat patiently, and as thanks, you made her a simple embroidery of a lily because you once remembered her talking about a flower that she couldn't remember the name of but remembers what it looked like. She was ecstatic, but Ned, who taught you how to disappear in a crowd, was a bit jealous, so you made him his own embroidery of a bumblebee. After that everyone in Doverhill wanted their own exclusive embroidery from the princess herself. It's safe to say that your embroidery classes were put to good use. The only person you haven't given a piece to is Hobie, his embroidery has been hidden in your pocket for days since you've finished it. You're too nervous to give it to him, more or less show it to him.
Hobie speaks in the middle of the crowd with boxes and crates upon crates full of food and supplies to help the people. You watch as his crew hands them out to the waiting crowd. Quickly, the air fills with gratitude, smiles and even some tears. While they're busy, you head towards Hobie and Mayday, who are occupied with a gaggle of children munching on honeyed candy while vying for their attention.
âWe have a new person with us!â Mayday's excited chatter makes you pause midstep. âI can't tell you who she is but she's amazing! She taught me how to sew and write poetry.â A chorus of âwowsâ and âwoahsâ can be heard. âAnd look, she even braided my hair like how a princess wears her hair!â
Hobie chuckles by her side, coin pouch almost half empty while he gives most of it out to people. âTell âem the part where you tripped her.â He spots you in his peripheral whilst you stalk on the outskirts of the crowd. It's impossible not to, as if his senses have attuned itself to your presence. He doesn't say anything.
âI did!â She proudly says, and you almost laughed.
âI thought you liked her?â A child asks, nose scrunched up.
âBut back then I just didn't like her very much.â Mayday says and you almost falter as you sneakily ease your hand in James' pocket. Mayday continues to tell stories about you and your old pony while Hobie pretends that he doesn't see you.
Yuri suddenly appears by his side, nudging his shoulder. âShould I tell him?â She chuckles, whispering to him. âI gotta hand it to her, she chose the most oblivious one to steal from.â
âTaught her well,â Hobie mutters back, âdon't tell him or her. Let it happen.â
âIs this one of your brilliant plans?â
âMaybe.â He sees you scurry off to an alley all without James or people noticing you. Smiling fondly, he returns his attention to the task at hand. âWe need to hurry up and distribute these before the guards get âere.â
âAye, aye.â Yuri turns away with a knowing look that Hobie has a feeling he knows the reason what it pertains to.
â
You watch as the sun gets smaller and smaller on the horizon. The sea is calm while the salty breeze flutters your lashes. The hustle and bustle of the dock has calmed down ever since you made yourself comfortable on a crate. Munching on a loaf of bread, you watch a ship leave the dock, its anchor slowly emerging from the waters.
âYou're late, Hobie.â You felt him before you saw him. Looking over your shoulder, you see him in a similar cloak and hood, bow and arrow hidden behind him. âI got the coin from James, butâŚâ you show him the half eaten bread in your hand. âI used it already.â
Hobie admires you in the orange and pink hues, your eyes seem to glow in the light, while your lips curl into a gentle smile. He inhales, making his way towards you, leaning on the dock bannister, and watching the ship sail away into the fading horizon.
âCan I have some?â He asks, head turning towards you.
You grin with a chuckle, breaking the loaf apart to give the biggest side to him. âHere, you look like you need it more than I do.â You poke at his cheek, feeling his tired muscle underneath it.
âRunnin' away from your guards is hard work.â He takes a bite, âdo I look that bad?â
Without thinking, you reach for the corner of his lip to wipe away a crumb stuck on it. âNothing like a good nap couldn't fix.â Realization hits you, flinching away, you play your behaviour off by returning your attention towards the sea. âSorry.â You clear your throat.
Hobie stands there, frozen and in the middle of chewing. Swallowing down the bread and his sudden nerves, he brushes his knuckle over your cheek where dirt clings onto your skin unbeknownst to you.
âNow we're even.â He says gently, and you gaze at him through glassy eyes and warm cheeks. With a sigh, he moves away, casually finishing off the bread. âDâyou need anythinâ else for tomorrow?â
You take a deep breath, eyes glancing over to the castle. âGuts?â
âDon't think we can get that from the shops, love.â
You chortle, fingers playing with the hem of your cloak. âYou didn't exactly give me this test to see if I can successfully pickpocket someone right?â
Hobie turns sideways to look at you fully, still leaning on the handrail. âNo.â
âYou wanted me to see this.â You gesture around the city. âAnd how bad the situation here is.â He nods, eyes trained on you. âIf I had knownâŚâ you ball your fists around the fabric of your trousers. â...I could've done something. Anything.â
âCould've, would've, should've. The important thing is that you're âere now.â He tentatively takes your hand, you're cold under his palm as he feels you slowly warm up from his touch alone. He gives you enough space to let go. But you don't. âYou're doin' somethin' now. You're better than them.â He points at the palace behind you. âAnd if all goes well tomorrow, you've helped more than they have ever since they've taken the throne.â Squeezing your hand, he lets you fall atop him, your face hidden on his shoulder. âYouâre good, Y/N, I know you are.â
You let go of his hand, arms embracing him fully. âYou're good too, Hobie.â While you hold him, you sneak the embroidery of a bow and arrow you made inside his pocket.
With his arms around you, the moon slowly appearing in the sky, and face on the crook of your neck, he lets you cry while his palm rests on your shoulder blades, gently caressing. Your words have sparked something in him, and your touch ignited it within him, warming him up from the inside out. It doesn't engulf him nor burn him, it soothes him at his core, and he sense that you can feel it too through his chest.
â
Your hands are sweaty while gripping the dessert cart. The sweet confections wobble while you make your way towards the kitchens. Dressed in the cook's attire, you blend in with the rest of the busy staff walking briskly on the marble floors.
The plan was to split up, to dress like the staff and infiltrate the castle with only your disguises. You all plan to meet up at the library where the main tunnel leads towards the royal apartments where the crown jewels are located. If everything goes to plan, they'll have the jewels in their satchels without ever being noticed.
Your eyes dart around the halls, trying incredibly hard not to stick out like a sore thumb. *So far so good. You think to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. Some staff glance at you but they thankfully let you go without questioning you and why you're pushing a cart full of cakes towards the library. The courtiers don't even pay you any heed.
Out of danger for now, you walk faster when you see the double doors leading to the library you've spent most of your days in.
âHalt!â A deep voice calls after you, and you stop in your tracks, hands already shaking.
âYes?â You fake your voice, eyes downturned to hide your face.
âWhere are you heading?â He asks, head gesturing towards the tea and cakes.
âThe library, sâsir.â
âI've been patrolling this hallway for hours and not a single person has entered the library.â He narrows at you suspiciously.
You clear your thoughts, determination surpassing over your anxiety. âLady Caroline has asked me to deliver them in advance. Says she has some sort of meeting with the other court ladies.â It's a long stretch, but the said lady is known for her gossiping circles.
âHmm,â he straightens up, thankfully not recognising you and believing your bold lie. âGo ahead, just don't make a mess.â
âUnderstood.â You don't look back as you make your way towards the doors. Shutting it close, you can finally breathe on your own. âWe made it.â You shakily walk towards the long table at the center of the large room, chest heaving, and pupils fully dilated. âIâ fuck.â
A sudden hand grasps your bicep gently which almost made you yelp in surprise. âJust breathe, it's over.â Hobie has come out from under the cart to soothe you by rubbing his palm up and down your trembling arms. âY/N, can you look at me?â With his fingertips, he moves your head to face him. âThere you are,â he smiles, âbreathe with me, yeah?â
You nod, hand upon his clavicle, eyes watching his chest go up and down while you mirror him. âIâI thought I fucked it up.â
âNah, you did brilliantly. I thought I had to shoot an arrow at his eye.â He pats your cheek, thumb tracing under your eye. âYou alright?â
âI think I am now,â you whisper, eyes darting over to his lips, and breathing normalized. âAre you?â
âNothin' gets the heart pumpinâ than almost gettin' caught.â Hobie says softly as he gazes at your own lips. He says your name as if he's tasting it on his tongue. âCan Iâ?â
He aches for you.
âYes.â
And you yearn for him.
The doors open with a squeak, and out comes Yuri in her handmaiden dress with her eyes wide and blinking at the two of you. You and Hobie freeze on the spot.
Her surprise turns into amusement. âAm I interrupting something?â
You're the first one to move away, acting casually as if she didn't catch you in the act. Meanwhile, Hobie finds the rows of books more interesting than Yuri smirking at him.
âNo, you're just in time, Yuri.â
She hums with a knowing gaze at the two of you. âBet you two wished I was late, huh?â
âNo.â You and Hobie manage to say simultaneously. Hobie clears his throat while you grab a discarded book to hide your face under. You can practically hear all the future teasing that you'll face after this.
âWhere are the others?â Hobie recovers much faster than you could. âThey should be âere by now.â
âDon't know, I didn't see them in the halls.â
Their words concern you as minutes tick past. While the three of you wait, you find the hidden passage hidden behind one of the bookshelves. After a quick scan, you see the book you've been looking for. The cover is in a deep shade of blue, the title worn down from the years, but you can briefly read the words âbetweenâ and âseaâ on the fading paint. You've read it dozens of times, but so far you still don't know the title.
Before you could reach for it, the doors opened once again, much louder this time. Instead of just Ned, James and the rest of Hobie's crew, they're joined by someone. They dragged the guard that was patrolling outside. His body is limp but still clearly breathing while Ned and the crew drags him further inside the library.
âCan we get some help here?â James huffs, hands occupied with the guard's legs.
âWhat the bloody hell happened?â Hobie rushes towards them, helping get the man inside the room.
âShit happened.â Ned pants, âwe don't have time so we'll explain later. For now we need to tie him down.â
âMy specialty.â Yuri reveals a thick rope from under her apron, âhelp me with his arms.â
Hobie glances towards you, shrugging his shoulders with a ghost of a smile. âOpen it, love.â
You nod, giving him a smile. With a yank on the book, the secret passage opens with a wooden groan. It opens a smidge, so Hobie helps you with pushing it further open.
âLove, huh?â James mutters under his breath. Ned snickers by his side.
The tunnel is dark and dank, air stale and moist. The walls are lined with thick cobwebs upon cobblestones. There's not a single light in place as the breeze drifts inside.
âA bit creepy innit?â Hobie glances at you, âcan't believe you slept in a castle with jester tunnels behind your bedroom walls.â
âWhen you put it that way, yes, that's fucking creepy, Hobie.â You chuckle as he chortles back.
âMove over, love birds.â Yuri pushes the two of you away from the door with a flaming torch in hand. âWe have to steal some shit remember?â She says over her shoulders, and the rest follows her with a teasing grin on their lips except for James who has a deep frown. âAnd you have a ship to catch, princess.â
âOh,â you almost forgot about you leaving for a second. Hobie glances at you, smile faltering. âYâyes, I remember, of course.â Stepping inside the passageway, you make your way towards the front of the group as Yuri passes you the torch. Hobie stays a few ways behind the group, eyes trained on your back. âLet's go.â
â
Your hand glides along the wall, feeling every indent and curve of the rocks. You know the tunnels well enough to know about the secret markings etched on the walls. Every two feet you walk, there's a subtle âxâ carved on the stone. If you pass by a wall that doesn't have that mark after the last two feet, then you could get lost if you don't retrace your steps. So with measured steps, you carefully guide the group through the tunnel, making sure that they're holding onto each other and to you. You've learned this trick after your older brother taught you how to sneak into the library at night without being noticed. You have no idea how he is now.
Hobie's hand upon your shoulder is gentle, you can feel his reassuring squeeze every time you shakily breathe in the dusty air.
You pass by a door on your right, remembering that it's your father's study. You almost ignored it but with your name being uttered by his advisor, you stop your movements while the others follow suit. Moving closer to the door, you look at the crack in the wood, seeing your father at his usual place in his study, and your mother sitting nearby. A testament to their love. They had a lot of love to give each other, but none left for their children.
âMy king, I think it's high time we start looking for the princess again. After the first ransom note there was nothing else. I fear for her safety.â
Your father continues to scribble away at his paperwork, while your mother sits near the window with a cup of tea daintily in her hand. They look unbothered. They did stop looking for you.
âDon't worry about her, she has always been independent. I'm sure Robin Hood will grow tired of her and is about to give her up any moment now.â The queen says without missing a beat or a forlorn tone for her missing child. âWhat news does my son bring? Another grandson?â
âWhich prince, my queen?â
âThe one with the heavily pregnant wife, Jeeves.â She scoffs out, entirely forgetting about you, and your brother's name.
âAh, my apologies. I heard that the baby girl was born healthy, but his wife is in dire condition. The prince is beside himself, in fact he requests for your presenceââ Your fatherâs adviser says with a solemn tone.
âPity.â She could only say.
You couldn't continue hearing her words and his lack of them. âLet'sâŚâ your eyes water, lips wobbling. â...we need to go.â Hobie calls your name softly, thumb pressing carefully on your shoulder blade, trying to calm you down. âI'm alright. Let's continue.â You ignore their looks of concern.
A heavy silence follows you and the crew, making your way towards the crown jewels through tear filled eyes, you manage to guide them in the room without getting lost. You shed off your cook uniform, donning the tiara you left with. Even without your gown, you hope that it's enough to convince the guards inside that it's still you.
âStay here, I'll knock three times when they're gone.â You murmur.
âAre youâ will you be alright?â Hobie asks gently, palm cupping your cheek.
You give him a weak smile. âI will be once we get what we came for.â Cracking the door open, you make your way inside before Hobie could express his concern.
â
The group lies in wait behind the closed door within the dark tunnel. The light from the torches are starting to burn out, leaving them with only the sunshine coming from the crack in the door for a shed of light.
The second Hobie's starting to get agitated and worried for you, he grabs the door knob with protests from his crew. But before he could open the door, he's met with you staring back at him.
âThey're gone.â You say as you open the door wider for them. Sure enough, the only soul left in the room is you. âI told them that I escaped and for them to get the physician. It took some convincing but they eventually left.â
The others pat you in the back, eyes widening at the glittering jewels and crowns sitting on tables and shelves. But Hobie's eyes were only on you, hands already reaching for your own.
âYou should go, I think we only have fifteen minutes before they march back here.â You try to walk away but Hobie holds onto you, fingers laced around your own, warmth helping you at ease. âHobie, I'll be fine. Help the others.â
He glances at his crew who are efficiently working together by lock picking and grabbing the jewels that they can easily carry and transport. They're not blinded by the shining large crowns and scepters, but only taking whatever they can hold in their satchels. One precious stone could feed the whole village for a year, and one crown could provide for the whole city for six months.
âThey can handle it, you said you needed to grab somethin'. Let me help you.â
You stare at his worried eyes. âIt's notâ are you sure?â
âYes, you said fifteen minutes and we're already at thirteen. No time to lose, love.â His lips curl into a smile, hand bringing your own to his chest.
âMy lucky number.â
â
Without wasting another minute, you arrive at your apartments. Its familiar purple walls take you back, your bed is made and fluffy, closet and desk clean as if you never left.
Hobie's hand is still grasping yours as if he's afraid that someone would snatch you away and drag you into the dark tunnels. His eyes roam around your room with a faint smile, he admires your portrait on the wall above the fireplace.
âDâyou think if I nick this one I'll get away with it?â
âYou're stealing from the crown and you think stealing my portrait would get you a bigger punishment?â You chuckle, letting go of his hand reluctantly to grab your satchel hidden under your bed.
âYes, this is the real treasure right âere.â
You poke your head from under the bed, meeting with his eyes and his wide grin. âIf you keep saying stuff like that I'd think you're being genuine.â Going under again, you reach for the strap of your bag, and you finally grab it from under the dusty bed.
âWhen was I not genuine, hm?â You come out only to be met with his smirk. He flicks away a dust bunny clinging on your tiara while you gawk at him.
âYou're not joking?â
âNo,â he says seriously. âI meant everythinâ I've said and more.â Kneeling down, he fixes the tiara above your head. âBesides, I wanted a reminder of you once you're gone.â
âDo you want me to leave?â You reach for his jaw, thumb grazing along his stubble.
He could only smile, afraid that if he audibly said no, you won't go and do what you've always planned to do. He doesn't want to bar you from leaving or sway you into staying. It's your decision, and whatever you decide to do, he'll be right behind you.
Tears cling to your lashes as you caress his cheek. You want to stay, but not just for Hobie and the people you've grown to love. But also your subjects, your people that you could still help by staying. Something that you could not do if you left. You're conflicted. âYou don't have to take the whole painting. I have a smaller one in my drawer.â
âAlright.â Hobie stands up despite his feelings swirling inside him. He helps you up, and follows you towards your desk.
You open a drawer, giving him a circular frame that contains an exact copy of your portrait. âTo remind you of me. Or to sell it once you're bored of my face.â You joke.
âIâll never get tired of your face.â
You have an intense urge to kiss him. Instead, you reign yourself in, âlet's get back to the others. Then let's get the fuck out of here.â He nods in agreement. Before you could follow, you leave your letter that you've written days ago for your family. It contains everything you've wanted to say to them, every ire, and sorrow you could translate from ink to paper.
Hobie waits for you in the doorway, arm holding up the tapestry that hides the passageways. You look at him and you see your future, would it be selfish of you if you stayed? Or would it be better if you just left?
With one final look at your old life, you leave it all behind.
â
The clinking of silver and gold rings around the tunnel as you lead the group out of the castle. The smiles on their faces can't be wiped away even when the torch burned out a while ago and your only guide was the marks on the walls. Despite the hiccups, you all made it out into the beach in one piece and with bags full of jewelry enough to take care of everyone.
Ned hoots and hollers on the beach while Yuri lies on the sand with a huge grin on her lips. And James hides his sobs by laying face first on the beach while a crab tugs at his hair. The others are getting the loot on board the fishing boat while they sing a merry tune.
You watch them carry your family jewels with a fond smile. A brooch peeking from one of the bags catches your eye, it's the one piece of jewelry your mother is fond of, except for her crown. You know that it'll be used for a better cause now instead of gathering dust on the shelves.
Smiling, you hear Hobie's footsteps upon the sand. âHavin' second thoughts about your crown jewels?â
You shake your head. âNo, none of them holds any sentimental value to me.â Reaching for your tiara, you hand it to him. âEven this one. Let Mayday play with it, I think she'll appreciate that.â
Hobie chuckles and sits down next to you while the others finish off loading the boat. His hand traces the emeralds and diamonds on your tiara before placing it gently on his lap. You see him take something from his pocket, which he immediately shows to you.
âMaybe this one will hold sentimental value.â A simple silver necklace hangs from his hand, you could cry from the sight of it. âIt's not from your family. I bought it yesterday while we were in the city.â
âIs that why you were late?â You laugh with tears filling your eyes. Your fingers gently graze the chain, feeling the cold metal against your skin. The smile on your face hasn't faded. Recognition hits you, and your eyes immediately fly towards his neck where a similar silver chain rests upon his skin.
He doesn't only see the crown atop of your head. He sees you. And you truly see him as the one you would love until your dying breath.
Hobie notices your awed expression, âit's identical to mine. I would've gotten you a pendant to go with itââ
âHelp put it on me?â
âSure,â he tells you to turn around, smiling while his hands brush along your neck as he clasps the necklace on you. Once it's secured, his thumb hovers on your nape, eyes warm on your skin. âIâ thank you for the help. I've got your papers ready, and if it weren't for you keepinâ your wordâ!â His words get smothered by your lips upon his own. Your kiss catches him off guard, eyes wide open, not knowing what to do with his hands, and lips not kissing back. You take it all as rejection.
You quickly lean away, âfuckâ I'm sorry. I thoughtââ
He grabs your face, lopsided smile and lovestruck gaze staying on you. âYou thought right, love.â His lips meet your own, within a second, you kiss in tandem as if you two were meant to be. He thinks so too.
The crew's claps interrupt you, even with their cheers (except for James) Hobie doesn't let your face go in his warm hands.
âRule breaker!â Ned shouts with a proud smile.
âFucking called it.â Yuri claps, âJanet owes me a coin.â
Hobie flips them the bird, all the while sharing your smile. He turns towards you again, eyes soft for you. âCâmon, before they attract the guard's attention.â
âWait, Hobie.â
âLoveââ
âBefore this I had no purpose. I was just existing with a crown on my head.â You stand up and you help him up on his feet, with his other hand carrying your tiara. âI want to keep helping my people, I will not abandon them like they have.â You look up at the palace, its shadow encompassing you. âI see that now, thanks to you and them.â You address the crew behind him.
âIs that what you want?â Hobie cups your cheek, not even hiding the fact that he's happy about your decision. He still tries to hide it though. And he's failing miserably. âJust say the word and I'll take you to the docksââ
âI want to stay here with you. That's my plan.â You pull him by his bow strap that's over his shoulders, thumb placed on his clavicle. Eyes crinkling at the corners and incredibly lovestruck by the man before you. âBecause I found my purpose right here.â
âAs you wish, love.â With a smile, Hobie leans close for another kiss, one of many to come in your future with him, and part of his band of merry men.
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#octobie#octobie wild card#octobie'24#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#atsv x reader#the kr8tor's creations#atsv hobie#atsv fanfiction#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie x reader#hobie fluff#hobie fanfic#hobie brown#robin hood au#medieval au#princess! reader#spider punk fanfic#x reader#fanfic#hobie brown fluff#hobie brown imagine#robin hood! hobie x reader#cw food mention
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đŞ đŽ đ
𧺠đŻ đą The Farmer & The Wizard
⌠SUMMARY âŚ
You need a change, a big one. When your estranged grandfather passes away and bequeaths you his farm in a little town just south of the middle of nowhere, you take it as the sign you needed to make a change instead of waiting for one.
The farm, while having fallen into a state of disrepair, is just the thing to cure your modern-world ailments. The people are kind and always ready to offer help, if a bit unusual. They have old superstitions, a haunted community center, and a resident wizard. Spoiler alert: those last two on the list take some getting used to.
Yes, things are different here but you have a sneaking suspicion that the slow pace and a certain alchemical practitioner are going to remind you that sometimes, all you need is time and a little bit of magic.
THIS SCROLL WAS LAST UPDATED:Â 6/1/24
⌠STATS âŚ
Pairing:Â Wizard!Gojo Satoru x Farmer!Reader
Rating: M for Mature, 18+ only minors do not interact
Warnings:Â Fantasy/Stardew Valley violence, sexual content, angst (maybe like just a tiny lil bit)
Tags:Â Stardew Valley AU, strangers to friends to lovers, red thread of fate, soulmates (kinda) eventual smut, fluff focused, canon divergent, more tags to come (literally am too excited, I need to get this masterlist post out in the world lol)
Projected Word Count:Â 100K
Authorâs Note:Â In unsurprising news, I have still been in the trenches with my Stardew Valley hyperfixation. Then, along comes this lovely PC Gojo mod and the fate of this fic was sealed. It's going to be inspired a touch by that mod (which I will link below, full credit to that amazing modder) and will heavily follow a standard Stardew Valley play through timeline. I'm a lil nervous to write Gojo since he doesn't fall neatly into the character type I normally am drawn to but I have WRITING HANDS (like jazz hands but for writers :P ) and so I'm adding another fic to my WIPs list.
Important Note: This fic is part of this blog's contribution to the @ficsforgaza initiative!
⌠LINKS âŚ
Fics for Gaza Masterlist <- now linked! ->
GOJO MOD FOR PC'ERS
JJK Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Playlist
Moodboard
⌠TABLE OF CONTENTS âŚ
SPRING
Part 1: In Which You Unexpectedly Receive The Deed to A Farm
Part 2 | In Progress | TBL
SUMMER
Placeholder
AUTUMN
Placeholder
WINTER
Placeholder
This work and its digital elements (credit for pixel art to ConcernedApe) are Š Kait of @kaitsawamura 2020-PRESENT. I do not own any rights to Stardew Valley and any subsequent settings/characters, but this work is heavily inspired by that amazing game. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.
#fic: the farmer and the wizard#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#stardew valley#stardew valley au#stardew valley fic#kait writes
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Best Student Ever | Song Mingi â
~ ~ call me chĂŠrie â
Navigation | Kinktober List
â Day 10 : Edging/ Oral
⏠[ Synopsis ] : If Mingi had to describe you in two words, theyâd be unpredictable and heavenly. After all, who shows up unannounced and sucks the life out of him, doing it exceptionally well? Only his best student.
Word Count : 1.5k Genre : Smut, Professor Au. Pairing : Professor! Mingi x Student! F.Reader
WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), Oral (m recieveing), messy blowjob, slight throat fucking, best BLOWJOB he had ever recieved, teasing, massive thick dick Mingi, gag reflex, pet names, student teacher relationship, forbidden relationship.
Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list
âââ NOTE : Day 10 and its our giant princess Mingiâs turn. Hope you like it my loves. Enjoy! ma chĂŠries â.
Overwhelmed by pleasure, Mingi felt on the verge of passing out. His eyes fluttered shut as he bit down on his arm, muffling the groans that threatened to spill out.
And who had this giant man breathless and at her mercy? You, Y/n!
Whatâs your relationship with Mingi? Student,he taught you anatomy.
â
It all started on that one random afternoon. Semester break it was.
âY/n, how are you pre-med studies going on ?Any doubts or somethingâ your dad, Hongjoong asked.
âThey are going great. Just a few doubts here and there, but I haveâem all covered up, daddy.â you replied confidently. You were a good student, an exceptional one at that so keeping up with pre-med stuff wasnât really that hard.
But what really hard was to keep you eyes from wandering over you extremely hot, freshly single, deep voiced anatomy teacher. Song Mingi.
âIs Mingi doing a good job ?â he enquired, checking if his friend was teaching his daughter well or not.
Being Hongjoongâs daughter you did recieve special attention from your peers and teacher, Mingi being no different. He showered you with a lot of attention, extra private hours for doubts, a first hand look at revision questions all being part of the special treatment.
Was Mingi your professor at university?Yes.
And heâs also your dad Hongjoongâs friend?Yes, a very close one.
Wait, is your dad the college dean? Also yes.
âYes daddy. Perfect. He is perfectâŚI mean his lectures are perfectâ you stuttered, going off track a bit but gaining composure again. âI do have doubts with some Anatomy concepts, but I getâem sorted out laterâ you admitted honestly.
Daddy being dean you gotta be honest else your ass gonna be whipped.
"Get them sorted now. Mingi is spending his break at home anyway. Heâll be happy if you show up to discuss studies." Hongjoong advised, urging you to visit Mingi at his home.
"Are you sure, daddy?" you asked, just for confirmation. Not that it was needed,you were going to go anyway.
You had missed his pretty face all summer, and not seeing him had been frustrating. But showing up unannounced didnât feel quite right, so you decided to send him a quick text. Mingi usually responded fast to his students.
No reply. Text sent 10 minutes ago.
You gave him a call. No answer. You called again. Still, no answer.
Why isnât he picking up? And why am I not turning back to go home?
And just like that, you ended up in front of his house, a few blocks away from your own, within walking distance.
It was supposed to be a simple teacher-student doubt-clearing session, after which youâd leave.
But, of course, he had his phone silenced and didnât know you were coming.
As you had to walk in on him sitting on the living room couch, fisting his massive length as he tried to cool off the tension in his body, boiling in the summer heat, made worse by the fact that he was correcting your semester papers.
Dumbass!, he forgot to lock the door while he was moaning with that deep, hoarse voice.
The sight before you had your mouth watering, your professor, the man youâd fantasized about more times than you could count, whose wet dreams left you hot and drenched, was now in such a vulnerable state, looking extra hot as he rubbed his massive hands up and down his equally massive, hard length.
"May I help, Sir?" Your voice froze Mingi, halting all his actions in an instant, blood rushing to his face as he turned to face you.
What is she doing here? Whyâhow the hell did she get in? Fuck, I forgot to lock the front door. Idiot! Absolute motherfucking idiot!
A million thoughts ran through Mingi's mind, along with excuses he was desperately trying to come up with.
"Umm... help? Help with what, Y/n?" he asked, laughing nervously, desperately trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Ignoring his question, you walked towards him, kneeling in front of him. You definitely got your daddy's confidence.
"With that. I can help." you said with a playful smirk, pointing to his angry cock, hard and desperate for release.
"Y/n! No, thatâs not right. We shouldnât be doing this. You shouldnât be here. Why are you even here?" Mingi blabbered.
The poor professor was a mess, and your confidence wasnât helping. You took one swift kitten lick along his tip, and that was it. His brain shut off, a wave of newfound pleasure registering as his complaints turned into compliments.
"Oh my god⌠yeah, just perfect⌠youâre so good."
His approval made you shoot him a glance through your long lashes, blinking innocently. But you were anything but innocent.
Your fierce kitten eyes, without the glasses he was used to, sent a shiver down his spine. Never had he seen eyes so intense. Your smirk grew as Mingi whimpered while your tongue swirled around his tip, cleaning off the pre-cum heâd released while jerking off earlier.
"Y/n, baby, stop teasing your professor." he groaned, almost pleading as he watched his favorite student take him entirely into your mouth like the good girl you were. His hands ran across his forehead, wiping the thick sweat from both the summer heat and the pleasure your mouth was giving him.
He brushed a few stray hairs off your face, eventually gathering them all into a makeshift ponytail as your mouth worked in perfect rhythm, bobbing and licking up his massive length. Your hands, bored of sitting idle, shiftedâone to hold his base while you continued to work him, and the other to play with his balls. Mingi inhaled sharply at the sudden touch on his sensitive balls.
Your jaw was hurting, pleasurably stretched by his unbelievably girthy cock, but the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat was too addictive to care about the pain. You hollowed your cheeks, trying to fit every vein that popped out as Mingi breathed heavily, holding back with all his might not to mouth-fuck you.
"Close⌠ahh⌠close, baby." Mingi whined, your ferocious tongue work sending goosebumps all over his body. Unable to hold back any longer, Mingi harshly yanked you down, forcing his entire length into your mouth, his tip deliciously hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.
You moaned at the sudden rough treatment as he rolled his hips into your mouth. Despite the intensity, your tongue continued to lick and satisfy him, while he used your mouth like his personal Tenga, sending vibrations through your entire being.
"Arhh, fuck... fuck!" Mingi grunted. You could feel him twitch inside youâhe was almost there, ready to release. Your hands massaged his balls, giving them one cheeky little squeeze, pushing him off the edge of his pleasure mountain as he emptied himself into your mouth.
Thick ropes of white cum spurted into your mouth, some of it leaking from the corner of your lips. Mingi's thighs shook, and his hips stuttered from the intensity of the release he just experienced, all thanks to your wonderfully heavenly mouth.
Mingi pulled out slightly, only to jerk back into your mouth, the roughness causing you to gag again as he gave the last of himself. Your flushed face, eyes teary, cheeks a shade of crimson, with his slick all over your mouth, made him hard again. You swallowed it all, the sight driving him wild.
Mingi had never experienced anything like thisâespecially not with one of his students. It was an unbelievable, forbidden sin he was tasting for the first time. The experience was so intense and heavenly, he couldnât help but wonder if it would be the last of its kind.
You stood up, wiping your mouth. No words were spoken; just a smirk danced on your lips, your eyes twinkling as you admired the huge man, a mess before you, feeling proud of the blowjob youâd just delivered.
"See you after the break, Prof" you said, glancing at the clock. You turned around and walked toward the door. Mingi watched you wave goodbye as you disappeared, still breathless, recovering from the best orgasm of his entire life.
Having experienced many blowjobs in his life, he could tell this was by far the best and most intense. You hadnât uttered a single complaint about his sheer size and had satisfied him like the best student you were.
"Goddammit. What is this girl doing to me?" Mingi thought, groaning and rubbing his hardened member again as the pleasurable moments replayed in his mind like a movie reel.
He began imagining all the positions and places he could take you in once the semester break was over cause this isn't over yet.
Would Hongjoong be mad? Only if he finds out.
Anyhow, Best Student Ever!
â
"Ahh, Y/n! You're back." Hongjoong said as you returned after almost an hour and a half. Not a single hair was out of place, and you looked just as fresh as when you had left the house. Your best friend Ryujin deserved the a big fat thanks for letting you drop by to clean yourself up.
"Yes, daddy. Got all my doubts cleared,. you replied with a wide grin.
"That's good. Mingi definitely deserves a raise after this." he mused, thinking about his friend as you headed to your room.
Sure, Daddy⌠for fucking sure.
I deserve one too...but from the Prof.
~ ~ ChĂŠrie â signinâ off
DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please donât take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.
Š ShixCherie.
#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fluff#professor au#kpop imagines#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez mingi#song mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#mingi fluff#mingi fic#atz#atz smut#kinktober 2024#shixcherie
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the proposal & the engagement
[blake hughes au]
request(s): Nico and Blake. Can u do something where Nico ask her to marry him? Maybe when they win the Stanley cup? & Nico proposing to Blake! Maybe at the lake house or in Switzerland?
word count: 1.4k
the past few games were tight, and blake could feel the tension in her body as she watched the periods drag on. the devils needed this win to take the cup, and the energy in prudential echoed the importance of the game.
"i think i'm going to be sick," blake announces as nico jumps onto the ice in the third period. "we're so close," she says, squeezing the hands of jesper bratts girlfriend.
"i don't think i can watch," one of the other wags replies before throwing her hands up in front of her face.
before anyone else can succumb to their nerves, meier shoots the puck into the back of the net and the arena erupts into cheers. "theres still two minutes left!" blake shouts, locking arms with the girls beside her. they were all wrought with anxious nerves and energy, that the only thing they could think of doing was hold onto each other.
the rest of the game goes by quickly, and it's announced that the devils won the game. "they did it!" blake screams, jumping up with the rest of the girls. she quickly grabs her phone, making sure to take a quick few shots of nico and her brothers celebrating their win.
soon enough, blake and the families were brought onto the ice. there wasn't a second to congratulate her brothers before nico scooped blake up in his arms.
"we did it, schatz" nico beams with excitement as he hoists blake up into the air. she wraps her legs around his waist easily, the words "Hischier 13" proudly on display across the back of her jacket.
"i'm so proud of you," blake cries, pulling away from nico's neck to kiss him. "you played so good... i love you... that was so hot..." she speaks between enthusiastic kisses.
when they finally calm down a little and blakes set back on her feet, nico makes blakes heart start racing again. "marry me," he says simply, as if it's the most normal thing to ask after winning the stanley cup.
"what?" blake gasps, her hands never loosening from around his waist.
"marry me, please schatz" nico repeats, a doopy smile etched across his face.
blake squeals, and repeatedly nods her head in approval. "yes - yes of course i'll marry you!" she removes her hands from around his waist and instead places them on both sides of his cheeks. nico leans forward and softly kisses blakes pillowy lips before theyre dragged apart by excited family members - nobody but themselves aware of the proposal.
ââĄ
a few days later, when they are no longer hungover and exhausted, blake brings up the proposal again. "you know, when you propose there's usually a ring..." she teases.
nico looks at her softly and blake swears she could melt with the intensity of his beautiful brown eyes. "it's coming, i have plans set up" he assures her, opening up his arms which she gladly walks into.
she lays her head on his chest, "a double proposal... this is very intense,"
"nothing but the best for you," he kisses the top of her head, ignoring the mess of suitcases and clothes strewn around their room for their upcoming trip to switzerland. "i can't wait to give you the ring," he kisses her again.
"i'm waiting happily.. just don't take too long. i cant wait to 'officially' be your fiancĂŠe," blake leans up to look nico in the eyes once more.
"you won't have to wait long, i'm too excited to be your fiancĂŠ" nico smiles.
ââĄ
blake.hughes
đ valais, switzerland
liked by nicohischier, jackhughes, trevorzegras, and 42 871 others
blake.hughes sundays <3
tagged: nicohischier
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nicohischier waking up next to u is my favourite part of the dayâ¤ď¸đ
jackhughes did not need to see the first pic but its nice that u two are having fun!
lhughes_06 sundays <3 at the lake house pls im bored
jackhughes missing ur dad ?
lhughes_06 that was a long time ago.. it's time we moved on
lucahischier no tag but im right there in the 2nd pic...
bestie ur glowing !!
user07 mom and dad are in switzerlandđŤĄâ¤ď¸
user51 she looks so happy ugh i will never get over themđđŤś
user23 the last pic.... ohhh blakes been feeding us for YEARSS
the first week in nico's hometown goes by in a blur. every relative, close friend, and neighbour wanted to congratulate nico and there were lots of catching up to do after the long and tiring season.
also, blake was proud to announce that her german speaking skills have gotten so much better of the course of the 4 years she and nico have been dating. it was relief knowing that she could keep up with his families conversations - even if she still wasn't the best speaker.
they had been so busy the first week that blake didn't notice her family suddenly going ghost for the 12ish hours it took to fly to switzerland. nor did she really notice the excited glances shared between nico's family as they wished them off on their hike.
ââĄ
"nina's so sweet. she's been teaching me more german while you were hanging out with friends earlier and i really think i'm starting to understand better," blake explains as she trails behind an overly excited nico. "i just need to work on my speaking and pronunciation.. but each time i hear you guys talk i swear i'm getting it! i think by next summer if i keep practicing i'll be able to have full conversations,"
nico looks back at blake with nothing but pride. "i love you,"
she laughs, "i love you too?"
suddenly, they were both standing on top of a gorgeous mountain with the sun shining on both of them. as expected, blake steps forward to admire the view. "after all these years coming up here, i don't think i'll ever get used to it," she enthuses, and nico hums from behind her as he gets down on one knee.
"aw, nico look there's a dog all the way down there-" blake turns around and gasps. even though she was expecting another proposal with a ring this time, she's still surprised.
"blake, last time i wasn't as prepared as i shouldve been," nico chuckles nervously and blake giggles. "these last few years have been a dream and i can't imagine not waking up next to you or not wanting to spend all of my time with you. youre my best friend and i love you so much. will you officially agree to marry me?" nico asks, holding out the ring box and opening it slowly.
"of course i'll marry you," blakes voice is muffled as she drops her hands away from her mouth. "i love you so much," she cries, holding onto nico tightly when he finally stands up.
when they pull apart, he slides the beautiful gold diamond ring onto her finger.
ââĄ
"congrats you guys!" jack shouts as soon as the front door of hischier house opens.
"youre here?" blake cries out, palms digging into her eyes as happiness floods through her.
"sweetie congradulations," ellen speaks softly into blake ear as she brings her daughter forward into a bone-crushing hug. "show me the ring," she asks happily, and blake gladly obliges.
"i can't believe you guys are all here," blake sniffles, looking up to see her brothers - trevor included - and her immediate family.
"i'd never miss your engagement goldie," trevor jokes as he slings an arm around blakes shoulders. "you did good," blake glances over at her fiancee who was talking animatedly with his friends and family - recounting the proposal to the fine details.
"i know," blake smiles sappily and turns to her oldest brother.
"i'm proud of you, goose" quinn teases but blake can see the tears lining his eyes. "you're so grown up now," he breathes out, pulling his sister into a hug that jack and luke aren't shy of joining.
over her brothers shoulders she spots her dad next to nico's and she excitedly flashes them her ring.
ââĄ
blake.hughes
đ valais, switzerland
liked by nicohischier, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and 57 012 others
blake.hughes future mrs đ¤
tagged: nicohischier
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nicohischier my beautiful bride đ i love you â¤ď¸
ninahischier love you two so much !!! congratulationsđ
jackhughes brother in law secured
_quinnhughes congrats you guys!â¤ď¸
trevorzegras can't believe youre actually engaged (i was literally there) đđđ
bestie i'm. sobbing. so. hard.
user09 did he propose while hiking?? omgg too cuteđ
user63 OMFG?? OMFG??? OMFG???
user14 they're engagedđđđ
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-
-
#blake hughes au#nico hischier x oc#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fic
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caught in his web ; choi yeonjun ch. 1 | SWEET DREAMS
pairings â yeonjun x afab reader
genre â smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama
word count (for this chapter) â ~2.3k
summary â Â You thought youâd be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong.Â
And whatâs worse? Heâs your new best friend's boyfriend.
Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.
MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.
warnings â almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..
A/N: hello! bela here! my apologies for dipping after posting the preview. here is the official first chapter! hope you guys like it. i'll try to update more frequently. đ comments and reblogs are very much appreciated xoxo also please do let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the next parts!
MASTERLIST: [ preview ] | [ 1 ] | [ 2 ] | [ 3 ]
ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ . ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ
âO-oh..â You clear your throat after telling yourself to get it together about a million times. Opening your mouth after what seemed like an eternity, âI uh.. Uncle Minjun? Itâs nice to meet you. Iâm y/n.â You offer your hand out to the man who was undeniably a splitting image of Yeonjun - just older.
He was dashing and had an air of charisma around him. One would know that being in the real estate business, you need to have some type of charm after all, so you're not too surprised that he owns the biggest housing and commercial property business in Asia. He seemed like the type to be able to sway you easily into buying things without much hesitation.Â
Also explains why your mom fell for him.
ây/n.. Very nice to meet you finally. Iâve heard nothing but good things about you from your mother, you seem like a very smart lady. And as expected - beautiful too. Surely you have a lot of suitors by now, eh?â He says in a playful manner, as you finally take a seat to join them, right across from Yeonjun.Â
âOh, trust me, dad. Soobinnie's all over her.â The male across from you nonchalantly points out, making you cough right as you scoop the clear soup into your mouth.Â
âOh? CEO Dongwon's son? Well sounds like heâs a decent man.â Your mother for sure wouldn't pass off the chance to give her two cents, âWhy didnât you tell me this, sweetie? You should invite Soobin here sometime.â She lets out a giddy laugh as you grimace into your soup.
"Well, weâre not an item, Mom. And you know I want to focus on my studies firstâŚâÂ
âItâs rare you hear that nowadays eh? I wish my son would see education the same way as you y/n. Maybe you should teach him a thing or two, huh?â Minjun replies, sipping from his scotch glass and giving Yeonjun a look to which the younger male replies with a sarcastic scowl.Â
âIâm sure Chaewonâs got that covered.â You take the opportunity to tease back, it was your way of repaying him for bringing Soobin up. âTheyâre a really cute couple.â You smile the sweetest one you can muster and look over at his dad who seems to suddenly be interested at the mere mention of a girl.Â
âWell, if youâre serious about dating her, son, stop bringing random girls home. You know the guards see you when you do that, right? It's quite distasteful really.âÂ
Your eyes widen upon learning this little piece of information, he was still bringing girls home, even though heâs dating my friend? Â You think to yourself. You could feel Yeonjunâs glare directed at you from across the table, but ultimately decide to avoid it and just eat.Â
âI-Iâll go get the dessert.â You shoot up from your seat not too long after, wanting to do anything to get you out of that semi-awkward situation.Â
âIâll help you y/n!â Yeonjun chimes in, walking behind you and following you into the kitchen- giving you no other choice.Â
âAhjumma, can you please take out the cream cake my mom bought this morning? Iâll cut it myself.â You say in a polite tone and a smile to match, watching the older lady walk out back to the refrigerators to go grab it.Â
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back against the expensive Italian marble countertop. âNot even an hour with you and Iâm already tired.â You glare at the male.
Itâs true, thereâs a reason why you never got along with him, as he was always picking on you. But it was more of a welcomed gesture for you because even though it was annoying, you were just glad you are not a part of the population of MOA-U girls who have fallen victim and succumbed to his charms.Â
âWell, you do know what this means⌠right y/n?â Yeonjun asks, almost in a teasing tone from what you can pick up.
Soon, his hands lay flat over the countertop, on each side of your hip - effectively trapping you in.Â
You swallow hard, youâve never been this close to him before.Â
Chaewon always had somewhat of a fence around him in school, which is why weâve never been face-to-face like this. You find yourself taking note of his prominent features- from his black locks, which complimented his hazel eyes, his strong jawline, his raised nose bridge, and even that cute, boyish smile.Â
âH-huh?â Great, what was that part about being immune to his charms again?Â
âWeâre going to be siblings," He says, arms wrapping around your waist, "..so youâll see more of me around, most likely.â His smile stretches out even more, and it was like he enjoyed that you were flustered by the mischievous glint in his eyes.
Like a shark being able to smell fear from a few feet away.Â
"You're... You weirdo." Was all you were able to say, and it took all of your might to push him off of you, and right on time too, as the help finally came back with the cake to save the day.Â
You leave the kitchen as fast as you could, and even as you briskly walked away, you could feel Yeonjun smirking behind you.
ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ . ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ
"I don't know how I feel about it, honestly." You say as you plop down on one of the couches in Chaewon's living room after school that day.Â
"My best friend and my boyfriend becoming step-siblings? Who would have thought..." Chaewon says with a smile, though you couldn't tell if it was a sarcastic smile or one that was of genuine nature.Â
"I know my mom's been a notorious magnet for rich dudes but I never thought she would end up in the arms of Choi Minjun, tsk. This is driving me nuts." You whine out, pulling at your hair and punching the throw pillow repeatedly.
"You do know there's some business strategy side to this, right unnie?" Minjeong suddenly speaks up. The youngest in your group rarely opened her mouth, which is why all four of you were all ears whenever she decides to give her input on things.Â
"How so?" You ask, trying to make sense of the situation and guessing where she was going with this statement.
"Mm well... Yeonjun oppa's dad owns a lot of properties, and you guys own a lot of department stores.. So if your companies merge... Then, your mom can expand to more places and oppa's dad will acquire more patrons because of the brand - since your mom does have an insane amount of fans. It will be the merger that everyone in Korea will be talking about."Â
"Wow.. I never really thought of it that way." You say in a hushed tone, trying to put the pieces together.Â
"At this rate you'll be richer than all three of us combined. With the exception of Chaewon, of course." Yeji says in a joking manner, her statement causing Chaewon to flip her hair over her shoulder.Â
You laugh it off, "Ah, well- that's.. that's really not my concern now. All I know is that my mother needs to get her life together.."Â
"Well look at the bright side y/n, at least you get to look after my baby for me," Chaewon interjects, putting her hand over her chest. "You know, you can report to me and tell me if there are girls who try to flirt with him and all that. Youâre basically going to be his younger sister anyways." She points out, nodding her head a few times.Â
You stay silent, suddenly remembering that one little fact that his dad gave away at dinner.
He was still bringing random girls home at this point.Â
There was an inner battle in you suddenly - should I say something? Or should I keep it under wraps since their relationship isnât my business anyway? Something prompts you to go for the latter, not open your mouth and just nod.
You'd rather not be caught in the middle of the drama.
ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ . ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ
As expected, there was another party that night at Chaewonâs house.
There were indeed perks to being inheritors to future companies: your parents were more often than not, too busy to take note of anyone's whereabouts. Which is why you have the luxury to party whenever you wanted.
Surprisingly, you were actually in the mood to party then. As youâve managed to down a few shots of soju as well as soju bombs with Yeji. Â
And not surprisingly, Chaewon was all over Yeonjun that night.
You could feel him staring at you from time to time though. Nevertheless, you don't think much of it- as youâve always made it a point not to.
He's probably waiting for me to f*ck up or something so he can tattletale on me to my mom next time we have a âfamilyâ meal.Â
âHowâs my favorite girl?â Soobinâs voice made its presence known as he wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you into a hug. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso, and you stay that way for a few minutes.Â
âAh- y/n! Before I forget! Remember how you were looking for that limited edition version of that manga we both loved?!â He asks as you pull away from the hug. You, of course, nod quickly.
The two of you have a lot of similarities, and your love for mangas and graphic novels was one of them.Â
In a swift motion, he then pulls out something from his bag. And lo and behold, in its pristine condition, was the same novel you've been searching high and low for.Â
âWHAT! NO WAY!!!â You shout over the music, enough to draw attention from the people around you. You envelop him in another excited hug out of gratitude. âI canât believe you found it?! How did you do it? I had my momâs assistant look all over for it. Even my grandparentsâ staff were searching for it.âÂ
âAh well, I have my connections. Youâre not the only one, y/n.â Soobin winks as soon as you pull away to take the manga and read through the back cover.Â
The rest of the night was spent with Soobin and a few more soju bottles. And by the end of the night, you were feeling the ugly effects of alcohol.Â
Cuddled up with him on one side of the couch, with the two of you talking about all the animes youâve watched the past week. It was pretty fun to have someone with whom you could nerd out, especially in a group of socialites such as the one you both have.Â
âAh, youâre remarkable. I canât believe you like the same things I do.â He said, pinching your nose which causes you to scrunch it upwards.Â
ây/n...?â He suddenly grows quiet after a few moments of just staring at each other.Â
âH-huh?â You ask, your forehead creasing in curiosity. Unfortunately, right on time, your vision starts to blur, and the dimmed-out lights in the living room turned party area wasnât helping. âW-what is it?âÂ
âC-can I k-kiss-- Y-yah.. y/n?! Hey! You ok?!â
That was pretty much the last thing you hear before passing out.Â
And that was it, your dear old friend alcohol got the better of you, knocking you out on his lap.Â
ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ . ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ
âYeonjun, I donât understand, you know I can bring her home safely.âÂ
Was I dreaming?Â
âI know, but I promised her mom Iâd take care of her, and thatâs what Iâll do so hand her over.â His voice didnât falter, standing firm to the promise he made to your mom.
W-wait.. I canât see anything.. I canât open my eyes. Iâm still dizzy, I can only hear faintly.. Ah, what is happening to me?!..Â
âPff, alright, fine Jjunie.. But you better not try any funny business.âÂ
You could feel another pair of strong arms underneath you, cradling you as you shifted. The air is crisp and cold as it brushes through your legs. You were outside.
âBabe! Where are you going?! You can let Soobin handle her and the partyâs not over yet.âÂ
That was Chaewonâs voice..
âI have to go Chae, Iâll bring her home first and make sure sheâs settled. Iâll see you tomorrow in school hmm?âÂ
ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ . ââââ-ăâ
ă-ââââ
You wake up to music, a hummed lullaby of sorts. It was soothing and pleasant to hear. You can feel the soft mattress under your tired body. With how familiar it all felt, you could tell you were in your bed.
Apart from that, you can feel someone stroking your hair.Â
Your eyelids felt so heavy as you open them, curious to see who it was. But you could barely see, vision still blurry no thanks to the after-effects of alcohol.
Add that, and the fact that it was rather pitch dark around your room- signaling that all the lights were off.
Someone was in your room, that you knew. Because you can hear him and his melodic humming, and whoever it was- he was unmistakably sitting at the edge of your bed next to you.Â
âO-ow..â You croak out, feeling the throbbing in your head. Pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead almost immediately, the melodic, soft voice cuts as you note the mattress' weight shift when the person beside you leans in to check on you.
ây/n, don't get up, just get some restâŚâ That voice, you know who it belongs to, but it took you a while to process it.Â
Yeonjunâs voice?Â
Even though you wanted so badly to keep your eyes open and verify if your guess was correct, you've had way too much to drink to keep up.
You couldnât believe it though. How can someone so rugged and nonchalant about things have such a sweet voice? Plus, the mere idea that heâs here to make sure you're okay- that definitely does not seem like something heâd do.Â
Or have you had a skewed vision of him this whole time?
Soon after, You feel his lips against your forehead. His soft buds leave a small peck and a tingling sensation on your skin, and you swore your cheeks felt a lot more heated than it was before.
At that point, you weren't sure if it was all a dream. You feel your stomach churn. Was it butterflies? Nah, it must be the soju. You tell yourself.
âSweet dreams, y/n.â And with that, you drift off into dreamland.
#đŠ*đŞ : series ; cihw#đŠ*đŞ: yeonjun#tomorrow x together#yeonjun#yeonjun smut#yeonjun imagines#choi yeonjun#yeonjun x reader#kpop smut#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#yeonjun hard hours#txt hard thoughts#kpop x y/n#kpop x female reader#kpop#kpop boys#kpop bg#fanfic#fanfiction
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Would you love me if I were a worm?
Rengoku Kyojuro x GN! Reader
He survived but at what cost?
Tags: fluff, slight angst, Kyojuro survives Mugen train AU
Word count: 0,6k
Masterlist | Rebuilding the ruins of castle Me masterlist
AN: Written as a Christmas gift for dear @glitchtricks94 - Merry Christmas!
I contemplated renaming it Kintsugi (hence the header) but I like this title more.
âUma- ouch-â Kyojuro forgot, for the nth time, that he was still recovering from having a hole in his abdomen; shouting was a long way away from happening for him yet. Instead of âadmitting defeatâ, he whispered a strained âUmaiâŚâ before taking another dango into his mouth, chewing and enjoying the taste as he tried to focus on the sweetness of the treat rather than the bitterness of his wound.
It was a peaceful afternoon, the sun shone brightly, and the boys were training in his backyard while he enjoyed tea and a snack you had made for him.
You, his loveâŚ
All throughout your relationship, you had asked him, half joking, if he would love you were you to become a worm. The question greatly confused him every time, even stunned him speechless the first, but he had always answered a resolute yes.Â
What he failed to do was ask you the same.
Even so, each day he woke up now, feeling like a worm, a useless bug, and each day you took care of him - you built your home to suit his needs, helped him bathe, cooked for him, entertained him - when he had nothing to give you back. He had become someone you didnât ask for, someone you didnât âsign upâ to love.
Kyojuro had never asked the question, but your response was an infallible yes - all the more, you showed it, your actions proved it.
He had never fallen so deep for someone in his life, being near you made him happy, though there was always a lingering inner torment fraying him at the edgesâŚ
Underneath his carefully crafted facade, you knew he wasnât fine. Kyojuro survived, at a great cost - an eye, and his career, his youth, his strength.Â
He used to smile even in his sleep; the usually peaceful expression had been replaced by a frown or a frighteningly borderline angry expression. He also couldnât spoon you, not yet, which agonized him more than he could admit. He missed cuddling you, you could see that every time you went to bed.
You were aware he was always in pain, though he said nothing, so you quietly placed painkillers alongside his tea and dango today. Kyojuro couldnât be more grateful you were in his life.
âThe dango is delicious, my love,â he whispered to you as you finally sat down beside him. Tanjiroâs soft laughter echoed in the yard, Zenitsuâs crying and Inosukeâs howling a complementary melody adding to the usual chaos of your home. Something like peace settled in his chest.
âIâm glad. Donât forget to drink the tea, itâs already cold.â You smiled at him as he reached for his cup. Kyojuro seemed to do so absent-mindedly, it was kind of endearing to see him trust you so much he gave no thought to your instructions.
Wooden clack clack became a distant rhythm while you both soaked in the warmth of the sun - the very same one which signaled the end of his last dance with the devil.Â
Become a demon, Kyojuro.
His scars throbbed in dull pain, his teeth clenched, an irrational panic set in, and he could not help but seek out everyone around him with his eye to make sure-
The boys were at it again, a goofy ball of energy rolling all over the training space, sweat making dirt stick to their skin. Tanjiro, alive. Zenitsu, alive. Inosuke, alive.
And you-
You were looking at him calmly; his feelings wild, all over the place but then Kyojuro looked in your eyes. He saw everything he thought he had lost, he felt as if you two were the only ones in your home.
Would you love him if he were a worm?
Yes. Yes, you do.
dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
network: @enchantedforest-network
Probably will become a 3-parter, 2nd part coming on 24th December
#he deserved to live gdi#he deserved a soft epilogue#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kyojuro x reader#kyojuro x y/n#kyojuro x you#rengoku x reader#rengoku x y/n#rengoku x you#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku kyojuro x reader#kyojuro#kny kyojuro#kny x reader#kny fanfic#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#desi the blue eyed kakushi#kakushino
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Bleeding Heart Dove (Part 3)
-> Nanami Kento x Reader
Summary: After acquiring two tickets for a play by the docks, you and Nanami get ready with anticipation.
Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), smoking (discussion of quitting)
Word Count: 2.5k words
Read on AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2
Light seeps through the thin curtains of your hotel room window, stirring you awake. Itâs a weak light, but itâs insistent, and you turn away. But the curtains are wide openâno doubt a result of Nanami being out on the balcony.
He was always an early riser, which prompted you to do better in that regard.
Your hand brushed against the cold sheets beside you as you shifted in bed. Slowly, you got up and headed to the bathroom, knowing that bathing right now would be your only chance today. The day was busy. Markets, museums, restaurantsâexciting, but a little daunting.
Emerging from the steamy bathroom, the cold air pricked at your damp skin. Pulling your bathrobe tighter around you, you grabbed your lying pack of cigarettes and an obscenely bright yellow lighter, making your way out to the balcony.
You leaned your forearms on the railing, and as you turned, there he wasâ just as you expected. Nanami was sat on the jute chair, reading glasses perched on his nose, eyes fixed on his lap.
He had been there for a while, wrestling with a pesky crossword puzzle.
He looked up as you joined him, his eyes catching the wetness of your hair and the flimsy towel loosely perched atop your head. You slipped a cigarette between your dry lips and flicked the lighter.
The first drag was deep, the smoke accompanying the two of you this morning.
âFilthy habit,â he tutted, his voice a gentle chiding.
You turned, a soft smirk playing on your lips as you exhaled a thin stream of smoke. âGood morning to you too,â you murmured.
âMorning,â he says. âThereâs some orange juice,â he points to the table with half a jar of orange.
âYes, yesâGimme!â you said, sitting down and pouring some into the empty glass beside it. Freshly squeezed orange juice after a smoke. Perhaps life wasnât half as bad as you made it out to be.
Nanami watched you again, the cigarette between your lips, the smoke swirling around you as you took another drag.
âI wish youâd quit,â he said aloud. Heâs disapproved of your smoking for a while. â a filthy habit you picked up two years ago when you got prompted and the workload tickled into your stress. He had tutted and thrown away countless packs, yet never before had he asked you to quit outright.
âYou want me to quit?â you asked.
He nodded. He knew you wouldnât see it, but this was the first time he had directly asked you to stop. He wasnât sure what effect it would hold.
âI guess I can,â you said, taking another puff. âIâll quit.â
âYouâre serious?â
âI mean, if it bothers youâ plus, it is the healthy thing to do, no?â You chuckled.
âYouâre quitting because I asked?â
You turn around, smiling reassuringly. âYeah, Kento.â
He wonders if you wouldâve quit earlier if he just asked. He wonders if itâs the same way with other things. I wish youâd take some day off, you deserve it. I wish youâd be there beside me when I go to bed. I wish youâd fire that arrogant assistant of yours, he stares at you at you in ways I donât like.
âThank you,â he says simply.
You turned to him. âCanât promise you this will be my last cigarette. But here goesâlast puff for a while.â You took one final drag, the smoke filling your lungs before you stubbed the cigarette out. âOh,â you said suddenly. âHold onââ
You disappeared inside, returning moments later with something in your hand. âHere,â you said, dropping two slender, golden-striped papers into his lap.
He glanced down at the papers lying still on his open crossword book. He picked them up, holding them aloft and adjusting his glasses for a better view. âWhat are they?â
âTickets.â
âWhat for?â
You take one from his hand, turning it to reveal bold, black lettering. âFor a play. Itâs tomorrow evening.â
His eyebrows lift in surprise. âOh,â is all he murmurs.
Upon that, you elaborate. âItâs in the auditorium by the dockâ
The Rose Auditorium was known for its top-notch productionsâmusicals, plays, and even orchestra and choir performances. The venueâs proximity to the beach made it a costly affair.
He wonders how much you spent on these, but most importantly, he wonders more about why he hadnât thought to arrange this himself.
Observing his muted reaction and ensuing silence, you grow a bit uncertain on your feet. Shifting your weight, you speak up. âI should have asked though. We didnât have anything planned for the evening, so I thoughtââ
âYes,â he says at once, a warm, appreciative smile twitching on his lips. âIâd love to go with you. I was just thinking I donât have anything appropriate to wear.â
At that, you laugh aloud. âNow, I know thatâs a lie. You practically live in suits. Weâll find something fitting.â
He simply smiles back at you. He knows, he simply didnât want his own wife to feel like she needed to ask permission to book something for the two of them. That would be absurd. That would be rock bottom.
Your eyes flit down to his lap where the tickets flicker against the book, and you notice the familiar crossword book. âHaving trouble?â you ask.
âHuhââ He follows your eyeline, back down to his lap. âYeah,â he says, as he watches you walk closer, moving his arm so you can plop yourself down on the arm of his chair. â7 letters.â
You lean closer, âWhatâs the clue?â you ask as you peer down at the crossword book nestled in his lap.
He moves the tickets, holding them in his right hand as he wonders what he should do with his left. Usually, it would rest on your waist, your thighs, or in your hand, but now it feels awkward. You no longer plop yourself freely into his lap, and he canât help but leave his hand cold against his thigh.
"Something about a bird," he murmurs. "A tropical bird with colorful feathers. The middle letter is âcââ
You think for a moment, then grin, as you bend down to pick up the pencil, and you write down the word.
"Macaw?" he asks.
You hum, âIt fits.â
Heâs immensely better than you at this, but you always had a talent for picking it up when he canât. Just one of those things.
âGuess it does,â he says with a smile.
â
Nanami sits on the edge of the bed, adjusting his cufflinks with his practiced steady hand, his feet tapping away profusely against the carpeted floor.
As soon as he hears the door unlock, heâs lifting his chin and drinking up the image of you stepping into the room. Youâre wearing a dark olive dress, with a black lace bodice cover. The material looks satin, silk-like, and it flares out from your hips, where itâs girded by a dark black satin belt, cinching the dress where his hands have so often rested. He hasnât seen this one before. It must be new.
âHelp me with the necklace?â you ask, as you bring your hand up to show him a thin chain with a drop pendant.
He simply takes it from you, and the two of you move back into the bathroom.
His eyes flit down to the marble countertop, a myriad of makeup products and jewelry spread out. He should help you clean up before you two leave, he notes silently.
Standing in front of the mirror, you move your hair to the side, exposing your neck and back to him.
He steps closer, his hand brushing against your back. You draw in a breath.
"Cold," you murmur.
He hums in acknowledgment. His hand reaches in front to draw the necklace around, pulling it up until it rests neatly against your chest. Pretty, he thinks as he bends down, the lack of glasses making it harder for him to find the clasp, but after a few moments, he succeeds.
He looks up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. Youâre watching him intently, curiously. He sees your lips, plump and lathered up in some shade of pink.
He straightens up, before bending downâ his eyes still locked with yours as he presses a soft kiss to the bare skin of your back.
âYou look beautiful,â he murmurs.
âThank you,â you swallow, your shoulders rolling back. You break eye contact, turning to reach for a black clutch as you speak up. âWe should leave soon.â
â
Nanamiâs starting to wonder if heâs the biggest idiot in the world. Why couldnât he think of this first? You loved this â the theatre, the whole ceremony of greeting and entering. Why didnât he think of bringing you here? He had even seen a poster on one of your walks in the city yesterday.
This placeâit's overwhelming in its opulence. Nanami was quite familiar with how metallic luxury tasted, a remnant from his early twenties, but even he could not help but feel somewhat dwarfed by the grandeur and extravagance of the architecture surrounding him.
He turns towards you, his smile somewhat wistful. He can tell you seem just as impressed as he is, even if your reaction is restrained and taut â a simple pursing of your lips indicates enough to him.
He sees beyond you, noticing how the ceilings are adorned with glass chandeliers that seem to drip gold, a place fitting for a woman of your stature, he can admit as much.
You smile back at him, as your hands come to encircle his bicep as you two move.
You produce two tickets from your clutch and offer them to one of the many attendants. Nanami watches as a smile brightens the attendant's face.
âThank you,â he says. âPlease turn right at the door and meet the usher at the elevator. From there, someone will escort you to your seats.â He hands you a program sheet and points to the right as the two of you make your way in.
Nanami murmurs a âThank youâ to the man and then you feel his hand on the small of your back, warm, guiding you towards the red ropes.
âNot too bad,â you say as you make yourself comfortable, smoothing down your dress in the seat next to him. Well, technically, itâs one seat. One long red seat for two, so there are no barriers between the two of you, apart from the ones youâve built by placing your clutch and program sheet.
âHow do you feel?â you ask.
âYes.â His elbow brushes your forearm, as you turn to find that heâs already looking at you, wearing a fond expression. One you havenât seen in ages. âI should have thought of this.â
Ah, you think. Thatâs what this is about. âNext time,â is all you say, with a warm reassuring smile, knowing that this is his battle.
âSo, you never even told me what this play was about,â he says.
You perk up. âOh, right. Itâs about romance, marriage, heartbreak, war⌠you know the gist.â
He nods, not particularly interested in hearing more, and you know as much because you donât seek to elaborate. He always believed it best to go into these things blind. The most effective experience.
The seats below and around you continue to flood with people as it nears seven, and by the time itâs fifteen the show begins, as was announced by a man in a silly tophat on stage. It was brimming full of people.
âI guess itâs about toââ He says, as he turns to find that your face glistening with red. âYouâre bleeding,â he says, as he immediately gets up.
âNanami, itâs about to start,â you protested softly.
âYouâre bleeding,â he repeats, sternly this time. His hand grabs yours as the two of you dash out. You manage to trail behind him, grasping onto your clutch, as you tilt your head back, relying on his touch to guide you.
You hear him converse with who you assume is one of the attendees, asking for a bathroom.
You see the pristine white floor, and youâre so nervous â you donât want to stain it red.
He points to the marble countertop. "Up," he commands, pointing to the marble countertop. You hop onto it, spreading your knees to make room for him as he situates himself between them.
Gently, he dabs at your nose with a tissue, getting rid of the excess blood dripping down to your nose.
âYou havenât had nosebleeds in a while,â he notes with quiet concern. âAre you feeling okay?â
You nod slightly, trying to smile despite the inconvenience, trying to steady yourself. "Iâm fine. I think it's just the dry air."
You feel a bit embarrassed by it all. Youâre grateful you didnât see any of the onlookersâ faces.
âHere, letâs get this under control,â he says, handing you thinly molded tissues.
You carefully insert them into your nose, hoping to stop the bleeding.
"I'll get you some water," he says, and you nod, as youâre left to stew on the countertop, feeling somewhat foolish with tissues up your nose. Not at all how you expected the night to go.
He returns with a bottle of water, and you uncap it to take a sip. Even the water here tastes luxurious.
You take a breath in, removing the tissues wadded up your nostrils. âI ruined the night,â you say, with a frown.
"It's barely started. We can still go back in," he assures you.
"I don't want to," you sigh. Tired. "I justâ"
He hums, squeezing your thigh gently in reassurance, urging you to continue.
"I want to go back."
"Are you sure?" he asks.
You nod, blinking in reassurance. âUnless you want to watch the play.â
"No," he says softly. "Let's go back.â
â
It is not often you walk away from commitments. Not work, not hangouts, not meetings, not runs. And especially not paid events.
You must be very tired, he thinks.
âChicken and rice?â you asked, as the two of you made your way back.
Nanamiâs blazer is draped over your shoulders. The night isnât too cold, and you watch his white shirt flutter against the muscles underneath. You feel loopy.
âChicken and rice,â he affirmed, his tone steady.
âSome dessert?â
âTiramisu?â
âEh,â you reply, disinterested, the idea of sweetness somehow too much, too indulgent.
âI want some,â he says, a bit insistent, like a child.
You smile. âThen we should get you some.â
Back in your hotel room, your heels and stockings are discarded onto the floor as the two of have finished eating.
âThat was good,â you say, youâre seated on the couch, your hand resting on your full stomach as you stare back up at the ceiling.
He hummed beside you, his glasses abandoned as he stared at you. He lifted a hand to run by the bridge of his nose. âYou look beautiful,â he says.
âYouâve said that today,â you say, turning back to look at him.
He hums, again.
At that, you turn back to the ceiling, not particularly certain what you can do with that response.
âWe should do this again,â you say, still affixed on the bland off-white ceiling. You felt heavy and light all at once.
âA date?â he asks.
You turn back to him now, smiling. âOh, was this a date?â
âI would assume so,â he says, matter of factly.
"I guess so," you said airly as you got up, turning back as you said. âJust attend things together. I miss it.â
Nanami smiles with a nod as he watches you walk into the bathroom. He misses you too.
#jjk drabbles#nanami fluff#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jjk x reader#jjk angst#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#nanami kento x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst
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MEDIA MANAGEMENT â JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 16)
au masterlist
notes: iâve been extremely busy and had no time to take screenshots, so all photos (except one) are from the actual photographers!
y/ndevils00
liked by john.marino97, dawson1417, and 329,615 others
y/ndevils00 we are not beating the loser allegations
we lost 3-6 tonight against the airplanes and their brick wall!
i assume everyone was reacting the same way as babygirl, slut, and i⌠cussing at the tv
BUT BET YOU CAN GUESS WHO SCORED TONIGHT BASED OFF THESE PHOTOS!
THATâS RIGHT! BOTH OF MY PRETTY BEST FRIENDS SCORED GOALS TONIGHT!!
MARASCHINO CHERRY WITH HIS FIRST OF THE SEASON AND DAWG-SON WITH HIS THIRD!! IâM SO PROUD OF MY BESTIES!!!
LOOK AT THAT PHOTO OF MY MARINARA SAUCE AND MY LUKEY POOKIE, HUGGING AND SHIT!! SO CUTE!!! (they miss me so bad) ((they were comforting each other))
anyways, good luck in pittsburgh on thursday! try not to lose this time!
p.s. that third photo is the outcome of my secret agent photo taker yelling ây/n says hi!â ! doesnât Johnny look so happy to hear he can never escape me?!
p.p.s. nothing to do with this game, but congratulations to Sid the Kid on his 13th career hat trick! ⌠i thought he had more tbh
tagged tmeier96, john.marino97, lhughes_06, dawson1417
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user25 did you just⌠go out of your way to subtly dig at Sidney Crosby? đ
john.marino97 i thought i left you in Jersey and then i hear your name and look up to see you on facetime with a random person!
y/ndevils00 you love that you can never get rid of me 𼰠youâre stuck with me forever!
john.marino97 four years and counting⌠do i ever get a break?
y/ndevils00 nope!
user73 four years? but, John only joined the Devils last season?
tmeier96 i scored a goal too, you know?
y/ndevils00 yeah⌠youâre pictured arenât you?
tmeier96 barely! and no congrats for me!
y/ndevils00 fine, attention whore! congratulations on your goal in a game in which we still did not win
tmeier96 iâm ignoring your sass and saying thank you anyways
y/ndevils00 asshole
tmeier96 bitch
jackhughes hey, thatâs my girlfriend, Meier!
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes itâs okay baby, i can fight my own battles
y/ndevils00 HEY! IâM JACKâS GIRLFRIEND, MEIER!
jackhughes ah yes, you did so well, lovely Dove. so proud of you
user02 goddamn John looks FINE AS HELL
user81 fr! y/n has a hot ass boyfriend and some hot ass friends!
dawson1417 THANK YOU BESTIE NUMBER 3!!! I MISS YOU SO MUCH!!!
y/ndevils00 IâLL SEE YOU SO SOON, BFFL
lhughes_06 yes, weâre absolutely mentally falling apart without you. idk how weâre still alive
y/ndevils00 i was wondering the same thing tbh. who else is gonna tell you not to eat an expired protein bar?
lhughes_06 i wouldâve been fine
y/ndevils00 you wouldâve gotten your stomach pumped and missed the game
lhughes_06 i donât believe you
y/ndevils00 how did you survive this long without me?
_quinnhughes our mom
lhughes_06 @/_quinnhughes shut up, huggy
nicohischier i think you cursed more than we did
y/ndevils00 can you blame me?! these fuckers suck!
nicohischier i- you canât say that
y/ndevils00 sure, i can! i just did!
ehaula WE suck?! YOU suck!
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula yeah, and Jack loves it!
ehaula UNCLES DONâT NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS
nicohischier NOBODY NEEDS TO KNOW THESE THINGS
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula prudes
jackhughes Dove, what have we talked about?!
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that i have to stop talking about our sex life on my instagram đ
jackhughes mhm and what did you just do?
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes talked about our sex life on my instagram đ
jackhughes so what do you have to say to Haulzy and Cap?
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula iâm sorry for making you privy to Jack and iâs bedroom shenanigans đŤ¤
#media management au!#media management series <3#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl fic#nhl imagine#faithlynnâs insta edits <3#faithlynnâs writings <3
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°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă
- ĚĽŰŞÍŰŞËââ First Bornâ (Halloween Special)âË ĚĽŰŞÍŰŞâ
Premise: Being an older brother once more was beyond exhilarating for Choso, he never expected though to find love by his little brother's side, his pretty and kind childhood friend bringing a softness into his life he didn't know it was possible one Halloween night.
Word Count: 3243
Note: this is a Semi AU, meaning the characters are who they are in the series, yet the timeline doesnât match the original story.
âââżâââĄÂ°Ëâ§âżâ§Ë°ââââżââ
Choso has been a big brother since he can remember, thatâs his number one trait and the one he is more proud of in general.
Therefore, loosing his two younger brothers continues to sting to this day.
Gaining a ânew brotherâ or finding a âlost brotherâ which ever you wanna call it, gave him a new sense of purpose, a new reason to live and continue growing as a person.
His number one flaw though, was how unemotional he was.Â
To Yuuji, Choso was embarrassing.Â
He never gets the jokes, more like he canât even laugh on his own like if his face muscles were forever stiff, a spoon could get social cues better than him; he says the most embarrassing things at the worst timing too and this brings us to this moment.
Yuuji had been flirting with the girl that worked a part time at the donut shop close by for about a month. He would always stop by and buy even if it was just one donut to munch on his way to school just so he could see her smile for a couple of minutes; he even went as far as to ask for her number last time he was there; though today, Choso tagged along and was currently glaring at said beauty for getting âtoo closeâ to his brother. âWhat is it that you want woman? I wonât let you get your smitten paws over my little brother, you hear me? You wonât ever understand how precious he is, must be protected at all cost.â
âOh my godâŚjust what do you think youâre doing?? Ruining my life?? Didnât I tell you to stay outside with Fushiguro??âÂ
âItadori-kun, I think your brother is right, I donât think I can handle such a precious boyâŚ.â the girl couldnât hold her laugh any longer, same thing as her co-workers who witnessed the scene.
âThatâs it. Iâm never taking you out again. Do you know how long Iâve been trying to get her to even look at me??â Yuuji was so disheartened, he opted to sit down on the sidewalk, contemplating the meaning of life while hating on his new older brother.
âIâŚI was just trying to-âÂ
âI know, I knowâŚjust trying to be a good older brotherâŚBut have you stopped for a second and think that maybe not everyone wants to hurt me? Iâm strong enough to defend myself, a pretty little thing like her wouldnât even dream of hurting anything but my heartâŚâ he sniffs dramatically, burying his face on his hands.
âYou can die immediately if someone hurts your heart, idiotâŚâ
This was the last drop of patience within him, âNOT literally, OK? I donât mean my internal organ, I mean the feelings side of the heart!!â
âThatâs not in your heart but your brain. You can also die if someone hurts you there-â
âJust stop talking!!!â Megumi and Nobara were both laughing their asses off at their banter, truth is Nobara saw the girl flirt with at least four different guys in just a week, she had been trying to warn her friend about her, so it was actually a good thing having dense Choso around to break the spell she had on him; that didnât make it any less funny though.
âItadori donât be so hard on him, heâs pouting again.â
âI am not doing such thing-â
âYes you are, manâŚâ Megumi let out a deep sigh, walking on the opposite direction wanting nothing to do with the loud display of idiocy in front of him.
âHey Fushiguro! Where are you going? We still need to discuss our plans for the party!â Yuuji yelled after him a little too loud, causing Megumi to flinch and return just to shut him up. âThereâs nothing to discussâŚJust be there around 9PM, you have to wear a costume or they wonât let you in, those are the rules.â
âDid you choose one already? I never pegged you for someone whoâd like halloween parties~â giggling, Nobara elbowed Yuuji on the ribs wanting him to team up with her to tease their friend.
âI bet heâll wear something ridiculous, like one of those giant carrot costumes.â bursting out laughing, both held each other from collapsing on the ground imagining carrotgumi.
âFor your information, I will go as a vampireâŚI found dubious objects in a closet in Gojo-senseiâs, I mean back in the houseâŚso I brought them with me for this party. Not like I want to go or anything but Maki-san threaten to shave my head in my sleep if I didnât goâŚâ
âBald carrotgumiâŚ.â after one more outburst of intense laughter, the team bullying ended for the best. âI need a costume, would you go buy one with me, Kugisaki?â
All this time Choso has been quietly observing the entire thing. He knows his brother literally just said he wouldnât take him out with him ever again, but he really wanted to prove him he could do better, that he wasnât an embarrassment and that he was the best older brother there was to have, this was his chance. âGuysâŚdo you thinkâŚdo you think I can come with youâŚ?âÂ
âNo, never, non, forget about it.â
âB-butâŚâ
âListen, you just ruined my life! How do you even think I would take you with me again?â
âPoor guy, just let him come, ItadoriâŚhe always brings the funniest of conversations out. I like him.â Choso perked up a little at the support he was getting, even if he knew all she wanted was to mock his brother, at least someone wanted him there.
âOh câmonâŚ.What if he ruins it again?âÂ
âJust leave (Y/N) in baby sitting duty. She likes lost causesâŚâ shrugging she started making her way to the costume shop, both of them tagging along.
â(Y/N)? I mean yes she does take recycling to an intense level and saves stray cats, but this isâŚthis is something else, KugisakiâŚâ Chosoâs lip was quivering once more, not wanting to face rejection for a third time on the same day by the person he wishes to please the most.
âOk then how about we do thisâŚâ leaning close to Yuujiâs ear she whispers her plan with the most mischievous grin anyone has ever seen in their lives. To this Yuuji laughs for what feels like hours, having to stop in his tracks to wipe his tears away and calm down. âOk, ok letâs ask himâŚâ going over to his older brother, Yuuji bats his eyelashes prettily up at him, âNii-chanâŚyou can goâŚif you go dressed as the carrot Fushiguro isnât wearingâŚâ
Choso just nodded eagerly, not fully understanding what he was getting himself into.Â
âAlso, I wonât let you follow me around, I wanna get a girl in my bed by tonight, and you canât stop me. Iâll ask my best friend to look after you. Understood?â this definitely wasnât what he wanted. He wanted bonding time with his brother, have a nice time, maybe drink one of those beers he introduced him to the other day, not having to stay behind away from the fun dressed as a commonly disliked vegetableâŚbut it was the chance he was looking for to prove he could behave.
âIs that a yes? Or-?â
âYes, I will go.â Nobara was on her phone browsing for carrot costumes, not long after running on her way to the shop.
This would be a long night..
âââżâââĄÂ°Ëâ§âżâ§Ë°ââââżââ
The night was young, every known sorcerer and their friends and family were invited to this party.
Yuuji chose to dress as werewolf, while Nobara went dressed as a sexy nurse.
Choso thoughâŚletâs just say the carrot outfit didnât suit him that wellâŚ
Wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible, Yuuji stopped you right at the entrance with a big grin plastered on his face. â(Y/N) my darling! My bestie! The light that shines above usâŚ!â
âWhat do you want now-â he was being too obvious, he only acts this way when he wants either money or nasty favors.
âHave you met my brother yet?â
âYour what-? Iâve lived next door my entire life and Iâve never seen a brother of yours-â covering your mouth almost instantly, he glared at you, trying to get you to play along.
âO-ohâŚyes your brother! You told me about him the other day. No, I havenât had the pleasure to meet him yet!â smiling on his direction, you walked over to him, taking both of his hands in yours.
âHi! Iâm (Y/N), itâs nice to finally meet you! By the way, what an adorable outfit you brought today! I wish I knew about them before, then we could have been two carrots instead of just one!â giggling at how good you were handling his worst nightmare, Yuuji sneaks away without you noticing; thing is, not only did you not notice, but neither did Choso, and that had never happen before.
âThey also had tomatoes and an eggplant, but that one was too little, it would probably fit you though.â He nodded in thought, unable to figure out why the thought of you dressed like a tiny eggplant sounded so appealing. Was this why his brother wanted him to be a carrot? Did he actually look cute?
âI would have loved to be an eggplant! We could take a bunch of pictures, probably even win the costume contest!â your soft laughter brought a smile to his face, heâs never been treated this nicely before.
âWhat are you supposed to be though?â he eyed you from head to toe, making you blush. âIâm Godzilla~â you posed, letting out a cute little roar, his heart skipped a beat, cuteness has never been his thing but he could see the appeal of it now.
âI apologize, I do not know what that is, but itâs certainly cuter than an eggplant. They donât make sounds...â his comment made you giggle giddily, why did Yuuji dislike him this much? Heâs such a sweetheartâŚ
âHmm Godzilla isâŚa monsterâŚhe destroys cities and kicks buildings.â you tried your best to imitate it properly, earning a smile from him once more, making you feel accomplished.
âSo like a curse? Iâm half curse-â he looked at you with his eyes wide opened in realization.
âNah, more like a cute big animal lost in a city full of ants.â he nods at this, before pointing to a table by the door. âThey had animal shaped cookies in a bowl over there.â he didnât know why but he felt the need to make you smile some more, to make you feel comfortable in his presence unlike the rest of his brotherâs friends and seemed like you liked animals enough to dress like one.
âDo they? I bet theyâre adorable. Would you like to eat some with me?â the way your eyes twinkled at this little piece of information made his stomach feel hollow, but it wasnât a bad feeling, he kind of wanted to feel more of this, so he went over the table and poked all the cookies from the bowl until he was sure heâs gotten at least one of every single animal available in it.Â
Megumi, who was sitting at the top of the stairs hiding from a drunk panda who was trying to get him to kiss his cousin, saw the entire scene unfold, and decided to intervene before Itadori ruined his moment if he caught him. âChosoâŚstop touching all the food just grab a handful sheâll like it anyways, trust me.â to his advice he nodded gratefully, making sure to grab some drinks as well.
âHere, I couldnât find the elephant, I was sure I saw one when I went by that table earlier, apologies for not getting you the complete set. I got you some melon soda though, I hope you like it.â the back of his neck felt hot, he continued wondering why he wanted to please you this bad, is not like you were his little sister, not like he wanted you to be his sister- he wouldnât be able to last a day before dying of cuteness overload.
âDonât worry! Iâm sure Mr.elephant found a nice home in someone elseâs belly.â chuckling you grabbed a little bear cookie and pressed it to his lips, âTry it! Itâs yumyum~â you danced happily at the taste, wanting to share the joy a good high quality cookie can bring to someoneâs life.
To this he just gave out a short nod, getting the entire cookie into his mouth. This was all so new to him, was this why his brother kept insisting in taking a girl to his bed?
What would they even do there?
He would like to take you to his and eat elephant shaped cookies, maybe even talk a little, or watch a movie, heâs been really into them since his brother introduced him to horror films.
âHey (Y/N) would you like to go to my room? Itâs a bit far but we could walk there-â before he could continue his sentence, a shoe came flying straight to his face, Megumi coming to pull him to the side, âIâm borrowing him for just a second (L/N), be right back.âÂ
He took Choso outside, away from prying eyes, a deep scowl on his face, âWhat on earth are you doing? You spend too much time with Itadori, heâs rubbing on youâŚâ
âI thought youâre supposed to take nice girls to your bedâŚâ
âI..ugh..WhAT? Who told you that? Never mind donât answerâŚâ letting out a long sigh he plops down on a bench prompting Choso to the same. âLook, manâŚit is true I guess, though the order is wrong. Remember how your brother talked to the same girl for months just to get her to like him?â nodding his head he was taking mental notes, Megumi rarely took his time to teach him anything, this must not go to waste.
âWhen you think a girl is nice or cute, pretty even. When sheâs nice to you as well and you feel like you want more of herâŚâ his nodding intensified, it was as if he was reading his mind, describing just how he was feeling that same moment.
âYou have to treat her right, make nice things for her, be patient, donât do anything impulsive. Girls are more delicate, you canât be rough with them. Got it?â
âI knew it. I should have looked for that elephant cookie some moreâŚâÂ
A rare smile appeared on Megumiâs face, Choso has been nothing but a pain to them when it doesnât come to fighting, but heâs never seen this soft side of him, or maybe he had, just that Itadori always shuts him down unlike you.
âYeah well, maybe next time you can buy her a bag, Iâm sure the elephant will be there.â his eyes opened widely, he hadnât thought about that, fantastic idea.
âYouâre a great guy, Fushiguro, I appreciate your advise. I can be your older brother too, if you ever need one...â with a small smile on his face, Megumi walked away back to his room, he'd have enough of this party already.
âGo back to her, before someone steals her away~â running back inside, his heart came back to his body when he saw you patiently waiting for him inside, fidgeting with your fingers.
âI have returned. Fushiguro just told me we can find the elephant cookie if I get you a new pack of cookies. Would you like to go buy one with me?â
âRight now?â that smile of yours will end up causing him heart failure, he was sure of that now.
âOr later, when you have time, if you want that isâŚwe can also go back for the eggplant dress, if youâre tired of being Godzilla.â It was pretty obvious to you by now that he was trying to get you out of this party, you werenât what others would call a 'party animalâ, you only went because your best friend called you over; the same best friend whoâs been flirting with every single girl in the room and has not addressed you for the longest time.
âI think they sell them in the supermarket down the street, lets go~!â pulling him by his hand, you both walked in silence as none of you knew what to say.
âSo, how is Yuuji as a younger brother? If heâs mean to you tell me, I will kick his assâŚâ you knew your bestie, he could be really sweet as much as he can be a real ass when he wants to be.
âHeâs great. I wish we could get along better thoughâŚbut itâs hard to know what he wants. I wished everyone would be happy with animal cookiesâŚâ
âI think itâs easy getting along with you though. Youâre sweet and gentle, funny too.â Choso has never been complimented before, not like this at leastâŚwas this what his brother called âflirtingâ?
âIâŚwell I think you are all those things tooâŚnobody has ever treated me this nice beforeâŚâ his comment managed to sadden you more than anything, stopping you on your tracks to place a hand on his cheek gently.
âThen how about we see each other some more? I need you to see how special you are.â your smile was so bright, so comfortingâŚhis chest ached but in a pleasant way, he kind of wanted to rip his own heart out just to see the chemical reaction occurring within his body in this very second, his blood even felt more powerful, he could kill Gojo Satoru right now, he was sure of it. But all he wanted was to count cookies with you while looking at the night sky.
âCan we? See each other again? I mean after the cookies...?â
âOf course! Lets do all sorts of things together! Have you ever been to a theme park? Maybe I can get the eggplant costume and we could both go dressed as vegetables, thatâd be fun!â your arm wrapped around his as you walked towards the supermarket.
âIâve never been to one, no.â
âThen we totally have to go! We could play some video games too! Oh and we definitely need to go to that new crepe place down town, I heard you need a reservation and all!â
âWhy do you want to go with me to all those places?â he was honestly confused, heâs been facing so much rejection that this fuzzy feeling in his chest was starting to cause some concern.
âThatâs what friends do, right? Besides, I think youâre really cuteâŚmaybeâŚwe couldâŚyou knowâŚone of those days we go outâŚonly if youâd like of courseâŚwe could maybe say itâs a date?â you smiled nervously up at him, heâs never seen such beauty in his entire life, not even the drawing his little brother made for him when they were little was this pretty. âI would like that very muchâŚâ
Being the first born of four brothers had its benefits as much as it has its flaws, but tonight he was sure of one thing, he was glad of getting in his little brothers nerves enough to get him to dump him with the cutest girl his eyes had ever lay on.
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#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu fanfic#jujutsu x reader#fluff#angst#slow burn#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso#choso kamo#kamo choso#choso fluff#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso x female reader#my baby
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INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 2: Begin Again.
New Girl!AU â A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You found yourself unable to move one from the grieving of your break up, and your roommates try to cheer you up with a night out.
Tags/TW: tiny bit of angst, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of cheating, cursing, platonic relationships, alcohol consumption. if sth missing let me know!!
Author's Note: chapter 2 is hereee, thank u for the support in the first part! i didn't expect it to have such a good response!! this is dedicated to all of you, thank you for readingđ¤
Word Count: 4.1k
Tag List: (bold means i couldnât tag you) @borikenlove @aemondssiut @tillyt04 @doublesparrows @afro-hispwriter @chrisevansslutttt2 @fan-goddess @trshngyn @hiatuswhore @heavenly1927 @deltamoon666 @sahvlren @kravitzwhore @watercolorskyy @n4tforlife
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The boy in front of you would not stop staring. His deep blue eyes slightly widened as his cheeks were adorned with a soft and subtle pink color, making his face seem more childish. You, however, tried to avoid eye contact, watching the bowl with milk and cereal in front of you as you silently ate it.
There was no sound besides the one that was produced by the metal spoon hitting the corners of the bowl. Aegon hasn't returned from his night shift at the bar, Aemond had left for gym half an hour before, and Jace was taking too long to come out of the bathroom.
You would press your lips in a thin line, clearing your throat as you dared to look at the sixteen year old boy in front of you, who seemed to be too shy to even introduce himself to you. A kind smile was seen on your face, trying to not make you look as uncomfortable as you felt, but that gesture seemed to worsen the situation, for the boy let out a sigh.
You were used to these situations as a very young teacher, but still this felt weirder and odder. Perhaps because it was Jace's brother.
"Your name is Luke, right?" You asked, a bit louder than you expected.
Luke's eyes shined with your words as he nodded, "I mean, I'm Lucerys⌠but you can call me."
A smirk appeared on his face, which turned out to be a big contrast from his shy self of a few seconds ago. His words had left you waiting to hear more, and it took you a while to figure out the word play and the real flirtatious intention of him.
"Call you what?"
"You can call me." he repeated.
"Oh Gods," you muttered as you let the spoon fall into the bowl, slightly covering your face and sighing.
Luckily for you, the main door was opened and the sound of keys smacking against the floor. A few steps were the ones announcing the arrival of a very sleepy Aegon to the loft. The white haired guy had dark circles in his eyes and a big stain on his gray shirt of what appeared to be wine.
You felt relieved the moment he entered the room, because then you were no longer alone with a sixteen year old who was trying to make a move with you. A smile was drawn upon your face as you stood up and walked back to the kitchen where Aegon was; lurking inside the fridge to make some breakfast for himself.
"Morning!" You said cheerfully, arriving by his side.
Aegon only raised his eyebrow in response, slightly moving his head without even spare a glance to you.
"Did you have a long night at the bar?" You spoke again.
"Yes," he answered in a half-hearted tone.
"At least now you can rest, right?" You pointed out, "It's Saturday! You can sleep all day if you wish!"
Aegon let the butter knife fall on the plate as he starts to rub his temples, closing his eyes for a few seconds before he finally looked at you with tired eyes.
"Usually it's not that loud when I arrive here after my night shifts, so if you please⌠stay quiet," his grumpy voice reached your ears and the cheerful smile soon became a thin line.
"Yes, sure, I'm sorry," you said shyly, pursing your lips. There was silence for a moment, a few seconds passed where Aegon felt the same quietness that used to receive him every Saturday morning, but then he heard your voice again, "It's just that Jace's brother- I think he might have a crush on me."
Aegon chuckled. His lilac eyes looked at you, then looked at the boy playing Brawl Stars on his phone, and then back at you. You finally saw a smile on his face, and even though it was a mocking one, you still feel glad that he was not wearing that sour grin anymore. It was quite intimidating.
"He does that with every girl he meets in this apartment," he explained, rolling his eyes, "he's in an age where his only worry is how to look at a woman's cleavage without her realizing."
Unconsciously, you adjust your robe, grabbing the parts that were open enough to expose your chest. Aegon scoffed at this action before speaking again,
"Don't feel so special though," he told you as he put five slices of bacon on a buttered pan, "you're not the first one, and you're definitely won't be the last."
"Oh," you muttered.
Before you could say anything else, Jacaerys came out of his room with a radiant smile, wearing a casual outfit and a backpack hanging from his left shoulder. He took a banana from the bowl of fruit and peeled it before starting to eat it with big bites.
You could've sworn that Aegon laughed childishly at this, but Jace's voice did not let you know whether it was something you thought to hear or something that actually happened.
"Let's go, Luke," he said to his brother, who immediately stood up. "We're going to Hockey practice, we'll be back late," he informed.
"Bye, guys!" You waved your hand at them with a small smile.
They both returned the gesture as they walked towards the door, leaving the apartment. You turned to see Aegon once again, who was now spreading some mayo on the bread and then he placed all the bacon he priorly fried into the bread. He grabbed a large cup and filled it with coffee, five cubes of sugar fell into it and then, he went to sit on the couch.
At first, you doubted whether to follow him or not, but eventually you also found a spot next to him in the large couch that was in the middle of the living room, and started to watch the infomercials that were playing on the tv in front of you.
"When am I going to meet your girlfriends?" You suddenly asked. Aegon frowned as he slowly turned to see you with clear confusion in his face.
"What?" He asked in return, mouth filled with his bacon sandwich.
"It's just that if my boyfriend was living with a strange girl, I would like to meet her." You shrugged.
"None of us have a girlfriend," he scoffed, taking another bite, "Jace is a virgin, Aemond was dumped by his ex a year ago, and IâŚ" he paused for a second, swallowing the food inside his mouth, "I don't do relationships."
"So none of you are dating?" You questioned, confused.
"Nope."
"Then, whose are those lotion bottles? And the special shampoos and conditioners, creams and moisturizers?"
"Those are Aemond's," he said uninterestedly, "he likes to take care of himself and spends a lot of money on all that crap." He rolls his eyes, "I don't even know why he needs it, for me soap is enough."
"You only use soap?" He nodded, "and what about your hair?"
"I use soap for that too."
Your eyes immediately went to his blonde platinum hair and took a close look at it. He had just confessed to you that he only washed it with soap and yet, he has the shiniest hair you have ever seen in a man âonly being surpassed by his own brother. You pressed your lips, trying to play down the curiosity that had grown on you.
"Stop looking at my hair," he suddenly said, making you yelp as he caught you off guard.
"I'm sorry," you muttered shyly.
It's been a week since you had moved in, and Aegon was the one who had ignored you the most. Even Aemond had opened up with you after a long day of work, when everyone else was sleeping and you ended up bonding over the bad ending of your relationships. Turns out he was not as grumpy as he seemed, quite the opposite.
However, everytime you would try to have a decent conversation with Aegon, he would just answer in one syllable words and then he leaves. It was barely impossible for you to interact with him, so you just stopped trying.
But then something happened.
The familiar voice of Beetlejuice and Lydia echoed in the living room as you widened your eyes with surprise. Suddenly, a thousand feelings washed over you as that bloody movie reminded you to the person you wished you could erase from your memory; Jason fucking Lannister, mostly known as the douchebag who fucked a girl in your own couch⌠the one that you bought with your own money.
You had met Jason at University, having a couple of classes together while you studied Education and he studied Economics. It wasn't until some of your friends decided to make a small gathering that you actually spoke to him, and the bastard made you fall in love with him the minute he introduced himself to you.
That same night, after a few drinks, you had sex with him in the bathroom, and that's how your long relationship started.
Though everything ended two months ago, when you caught red handed while a girl was on her knees in front of him as he sat on your couch. Four years of relationship thrown to the trash, because he couldn't keep it in his pants.
And now you were there, sitting next to your roommate, your nose itching as you watched Jason's favorite movie; Beetlejuice. You bit your bottom lip as soon as you noticed it was trembling, and your hand quickly covered your mouth trying to hold back a sob. Aegon was able to hear you, and he slowly turned to your direction, frowning as he looked at you as if you had lost your mind.
"What the-"
His words were cut off with a cry that finally made its way out of your throat, and tears started to run down your flushed cheeks as you grabbed a cushion and buried your wet face in it. Aegon widened his eyes, having absolutely no idea what was going on with you. He was not going to lie to himself and pretend as if he was not worried about your sudden change of mood, but he did not know how to react, so he just froze as your cries became louder.
The wound was still quite open.
"UhmâŚ" he tried to come up with something, but he was way too uncomfortable with the situation that nothing would come to his mind, "There's- uh⌠what's- why are you crying?" He asked, but his tone sounded harsher than he expected, which actually made you feel worse.
The main door was open, and the shape of a sweaty Aemond wearing sweatpants and an Adidas hoodie appeared in Aegon's sight, making him sigh with relief as he realized that he was no longer alone with you and your uncomfortable feelings.
Aemond stood still as he dropped the keys into the small table beside the door, and after taking a quick look at you, his eyes fell on his brother with a stern and scolding look.
"What did you do?" He questioned, blamingly as he slowly walked towards you.
"Why do you think I did something to her?" He replied, offended. "We were watching Beetlejuice and suddenly he started crying!"
"Maybe she got scared," Aemond deduced.
Aegon frowned, "of Beetlejuice?"
"Daeron cried the first time he saw it."
"Yes, when he was six!" Aegon scoffed.
The younger one rolled his eyes while he sat next to you. His hand soon started to caress your back in an attempt to comfort you, and only then you decided to lift your head from the cushion and show yourself to the pair of brothers.
"May the Maiden have mercy on you," Aegon muttered as soon as he saw your face.
Your hair was sticking in your cheeks due to the tears, your eyes were swollen and red and your lips too. You started to have a runny nose too, which made you sniff. Aegon wrinkled his nose with slight disgust as he heard that noise.
"Jar," Aemond said to him.
"It's not that I'm scared of the movie," you started out of the sudden, your voice sounding whiny and unsteady as you try to clean your nose with the back of your hand, now it was Aemond the one who had a slight disgusted look on his face, "Beetlejuice was Jason's favorite movie."
"Who the fuck is Jason?" Aegon asked.
"Her ex, you idiot," Aemond replied.
"We used to watch it on our date nights," you continued, "and we would dance to Jump in the Line everytime we would clean the apartment."
"Oh, darling, it's okay to cry over the memories of the past," Aemond said.
His older brother chucked, "of that you know a lot, don't you?"
Aemond clenched his jaw.
"I hate this," you wept, "this whole thing happened two months ago, why am I still sad?"
"Because you haven't met the world of flings yet," Aegon shrugged, wiping his fingertips with a paper towel and then throwing it away, "you have to meet some new people if you want to move on," he shrugged, "you know what they say; coochie full, happy heart."
"Oh, Gods," Aemond said.
"That's- That's ten gold coins to the jar," you immediately said, "I can't believe you just said that."
"Well, it's the truth!" He claimed, "if you want to move on, then you need to get laid."
"And how am I supposed to do that? I barely get out of the apartment to go to my job," you complained, "I have no male friends besides you three."
"It's Saturday, go somewhere," he suggested.
"Where?"
"The Green Banner," Aemond added. You saw how Aegon's eyes widened as he quickly shook his head.
"Definitely not," he denied, "that's my place of work."
"It's a Saturday, the bar will be full of single men," Aemond said, and then he turned to you, "I hate myself for saying this, but Aegon is right; the best medicine for a broken heart is sex."
So you agreed.
A few hours later you were there, sitting in the bar with your sluttiets dress and high heels that were too uncomfortable to walk with. Aegon was standing in front of you as Aemond was looking around, drinking whisky as you sipped your mojito from a straw. You were nervous, trying to focus on the taste of the drink in your hand instead of looking for someone who called your attention.
The music was loud and the laughter of the people was even louder. Your head started to hurt from the stress of the situation and you wondered why you even came in the first place when you knew you were not ready yet.
"So," Aemond started leaning a bit closer to you so you could hear him, "what's your type?"
You shrugged, looking uninterested, "not blondes," you muttered bitterly.
"What about that guy over there?" He said pointing at a brown haired man with glasses.
"Are you kidding?" Aegon interrupted, "he looks like a fucking psycho."
"He's kinda right," you agreed.
Aemond sighed, continuing scanning the room trying to find the 'perfect match' for you. Aegon seemed uninterested too, almost as if he was being forced to help you. The bar was full, many people asking for a bartender to take their order, and yet Aegon did not leave the place in front of you and Aemond.
The long haired man pointed to a few other guys, all of them were rejected by either you or by Aegon. Until he finally chose one that seemed cute enough to at least try to have a conversation.
"Nah," Aegon had said, "he looks like a douche."
"Look who's talking," his brother quickly said.
"I think I'm gonna go for it," you said, excitedly and already a bit tipsy for the two mojitos you had drank.
"Are you?" Aemond said, impressed.
"Yes!" you yelled, as if you were trying to give yourself the strength to do it, "I'm going to fucking do this!"
"There you go!" Aemond cheered.
You gave him a high five before you drank all the remaining liquid left in your cup in just one sip to give yourself the courage you so desperately need in that moment.
Your feet moved quickly towards the handsome guy sitting by his own at the table, and before you could even speak to him he turned around and smiled at you; a handsome, devilish and flirtatious smile. You tried to avoid the rush that ran to your cheeks, palming your face with your cold hands as you smiled back at him.
"Hi," you said, being inevitably shy.
"Hi, gorgeous," he said, with a deep voice.
"Mind if I sit here?" You point at the chair next to his.
"Be my guest," he tilted his head.
"I'm y/n," you introduced yourself as you sat.
"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," he smiled, putting his arm around the chair you were in.
You waited for him to say his name for a few seconds, but the only response was his pearly whites, which were way too white to be real.
"Uhm, what's your name?" You asked, shyly.
He scoffed, "you can call me whatever you want."
"Oh," you simply said, "well, I- uh, I would like to know your name actually, because-"
"Names are a concept that define us as a person⌠and I am a man that doesn't like locking himself in those concepts."
"That's- that isâŚ"
"Now tell me, sweetie⌠What brought you to my table?"
You falsely smiled at him, visibly uncomfortable and regretting your choice of going to his side. The only thing that made you stay there was your eagerness to move on and live your life the way you did before starting your relationship with Jason. So you went through it.
With each passing minute you would see him getting closer and closer to you. He would do all the talking as you simply nod and smile in a polite manner, trying to make yourself seem interested in him. You would try to move back sometimes but he would find his way close to you again.
There were times when you tried to search for Aegon and Aemond, but you couldn't find them around. And when Careless Whisper started to play in the background, you saw his demeanor change.
"Wait, you have something in your eyeâŚ" he said in a murmur that you were able to understand only because he whispered close to your ear.
"Do I?" You said, naively believing his words as you tried to stick your fingers in your eye.
"Yeah, just⌠let me do it for you," his voice sounded low and raspy as he grabbed your hand and put it in your lap.
He leaned closer to you, and you tried to breathe in. He was handsome, that was obvious, and yet there was something inside you that made you want to run away. The image of Jason appeared on your mind as soon as you felt his breath against your lips, and then you started to panic.
He closed his eyes, and you took this opportunity to start to slightly lean back. You started to breathe faster, your heart beating fast and hard inside your chest. And everything became worse when you saw his right hand going to your cheek to keep you still. That's when the disaster happened.
You barely knew how, but your fist ended up crashing against his nose and then all you were able to see was blood, at the same time that you gasped in surprise with yourself, and because the pinching pain in your hand was starting to affect you.
"Oh Gods!" you yelled.
His white t-shirt soon was stained with reddish marks that will not come out no matter how many times he washes it. He groaned in pain as his hands went to his nose, trying to relieve the ache that you, unconsciously, provoked.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled at you.
"Oh, Gods! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!!" You yelled back, panicking as you kept shaking your hand trying to relieve the pain.
"You fucking psycho bitch!" He said, blood dripping down his nose as he tried to cover it.
"Gods⌠Fuck, fuck," you muttered looking around for Aemond or Aegon.
Suddenly a couple of arms grabbed you and started to lead you out of the bar, meanwhile you were still screaming 'I'm sorrys' over and over again, for the guilt was starting to be too big to bear. You harmed an innocent man because he tried to kiss you, you panicked. You wanted to bury your head and disappear from the world.
Aemond led you outside the bar, where he told you to wait for him until he returned with his car to pick you up. You obeyed, sitting on the sidewalk as you were grabbing your aching hand, thinking about all your life decisions that had brought you to this⌠and you started to regret a few.
With your hand holding your head, you closed your eyes and sighed tired of the whole situation. And then you felt someone sitting beside you.
It was quite the surprise when you saw Aegon next to you, handing you a bag of ice for your hand. You gratefully accepted it, without even questioning his action.
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" You asked softly.
"I'm on my break," he explained.
"Why?"
"I wasâŚ" you noticed how he stopped himself before saying another word, and then he continued with dubious tone, "tired,"
"Oh."
"Where's Aemond?"
"He went to pick up the car. He parked it a few blocks away from here."
"Why?"
"He said this area is quite dangerous, he just changed the tires last week," you explained, and soon you both chuckled softly.
There was a silence that was not uncomfortable at all, and yet you felt the need to take this opportunity to finally have a conversation with Aegon and bond with him in some way. But another surprise came when he was the one who spoke first again.
"You're lucky the guy is not going to present charges," he laughed.
You felt the heat in your cheeks, "oh Gods, don't even mention that."
"I can't believe you punched him. You look so defenseless."
"I panicked," you said between giggles, "and he was being such a douche! He didn't even tell me his name. Maybe he's married or something."
"I was able to see that from miles, I warned you both but neither of you listened," he shrugged, looking at the cobblestones under his feet, "Douchebags know how to identify our own species."
"You're not a douchebag, Aegon," you slightly shook your head as you turned to look at him, "You're better than most of the men I've met."
He frowned, "You're lying."
"I'm not!"
"Then I'm curious to know what kind of men you have spoken to."
You shared a laugh. It was the first time he laughed with you and, if you were honest to yourself, it felt quite nice. You were proud of yourself at the fact that now your relationship with him had an improvement; even if it is something so miniscule as a simple chuckle.
You didn't want the conversation to end there.
"I think Jason broke me," you confessed, "I can't even kiss someone without overthinking everything⌠I'm a mess."
"Nah," he said, "you're just getting started. You just need to gain more confidence, that's all."
"And how am I supposed to do that?"
"Be a whore, girl!" he yelled, making you giggle, "You're not ugly, and it's your time to shine. Make the whole place shimmer and shit!"
"Are you quoting a Taylor Swift song?" you asked, surprised.
He immediately shook his head and frowned, "of course I'm not!" He quickly said, "My point is, you need to put yourself out there and, you know⌠be a whore."
You pressed your lips in a thin line as you nodded. Your eyes met Aegon's for an instant and, inevitably, the both of you smiled.
"Thank you."
"You're wel- uh, what- what are you doing?"
Your arms were caught up in their way towards his body as you tried to hug him. His hands caught them before they could get any closer to him, and you forced a little in a ridiculous âand quite patheticâ attempt to wrap your arms in his shoulders.
"I'm trying to hug you," you answered, still struggling to do it.
He pushed your arms to the side and then, he patted your head gently.
"No, honey, I don't do hugs."
You tilted your head, sighing with resignation. However, you were content with what had happened. You might have underestimated Aegon, but now you were glad you finally had the chance to get to know him a little bit more.
#new girl!au#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon targaryen x you#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii#aegon the elder#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon targaryen#aegon x you#aegon the second#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen x female reader#aegon x fem!reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii x reader#house of the dragon#house targaryen#modern!au#modern!aegon targaryen#modern!hotd#hotd x reader#hotd au#hotd#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#hotd fanfic#fluff
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Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3.2K
Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff
Summary:
Mornings arenât always easy. For example, itâs terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancĂŠ, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.
However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isnât the only one whoâs good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.
Especially those that concern a sweet reward.
Authorâs note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.
Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley
TH Masterlist
Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, itâs solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee.Â
In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner.Â
As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, itâs Alfie whoâs more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if heâs slept at all. However, recently heâs started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, itâs mighty stubborn. Moreover, heâs an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, itâs not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.
Our home.
Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I donât have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I donât have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever heâs baked at night.Â
Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad heâs at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell heâs secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakeryâs socials.
We donât get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.
I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. âI know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. Itâs finally Mamaâs turn to make breakfast again.â
Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe Iâve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, thatâs usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word âviralâ and a scowl will twist his lips.
Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.
Thanks for the faith, buddy.
âItâs gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?â
Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow.Â
We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps itâs better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldnât fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.
Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative thatâs just as good?Â
Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.
Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment Iâm back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when Iâm not there.Â
Right then and there, he wasnât The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.
He was a sweet and caring gentleman.
Simply Alfie Solomons.
Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.
Especially if he hasnât had his coffee.
âMorninâ, dove.â Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last nightâs late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isnât entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like theyâve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. âThat shirt looks good on you.â
âIâm glad you think so because youâre not getting it back any time soon.â I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. âYou slept in.â
âStill woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, Iâll need my wife to âold.â
I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani lâdodi, vâdodi li; I am my belovedâs and my beloved is mine. âDonât get hasty. We arenât married yet.â
âLetâs just go to the courthouse today.ââ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. Itâs a gesture he often makes nowadays. ââSign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are âappy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.â
âTempting as it is, Iâll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.â
âYou âave been from the start, Y/N. I donât need a ring to call you my wife. âSides, you well know âow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?â A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check whatâs in the mixing bowl. âIs that edible?â
âIt will be,â I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until theyâre well combined.
âIâm not eatinâ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.â
âItâs healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.â
Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. âOh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?â
âYou arenât the only one who can lie. Although, itâs not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.ââ I shrug. ââI simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.â
âWhich is?â
âBaked oats that taste like cake. They just havenât been baked yet.â
âWhereâd you get the recipe?â
âYouTubeâŚâ
He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. âFucking âell, dove, âow many times âavenât I told you not every recipe on social media-ââ
âDonât judge before youâve tried it.â I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. âSaid so yourself, didnât you?â
âDonât use my words against me.â
âOh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. Itâll be fine.â
I hope.
A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. âFine. But Iâm gonna make us coffee, right, so weâll at least âave something to get us fucking started.â
I canât suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. âSure.â
The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. âIkh hab dir lib.â
âI know.â To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. âI love you too.â
Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. âMhm.â
âWhy donât you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.â
âWe can take âim on a walk later together. Iâll go set the table.â
âFirst put on a pair of knickers.â
âNo.â
âYou know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.â
âI ainât sweating.â
âNot yet.â
âMaybe youâre the one who isnât.â
I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. âThat so?â
âYeah,â he drawls, âfirst weâll âave coffee, right, âcause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, âow about after weâve started the day proper Iâll fuck you like last night, hm?â
Until I black out.Â
The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.
For him.
Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. âSo you can make breakfast. Thatâs what youâre getting at, arenât you?â
âNo,â he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, ânot at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.â We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. âLet me make love to you.â
We come to a halt on the threshold. âLater. After you put on a pair of knickers and weâve eaten.â
He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. âBut-ââ
âKnickers, Alfie.â
âOne round.â
âAlfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.â
The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. âThose oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, âcause otherwise youâre payinâ for lunch.â
I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game wonât go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. âSomehow I donât think I will.â
He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. âI ought to do somethinâ âbout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.â
Game over.
Except for the one card I have left to play.
âI know,â I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, âbut first some knickers. Please, Papa?â
âClever bird, ainât ya?â He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. âMaybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.â
Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.
Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.
Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.
âI said Iâll make us coffee,â Alfie grumbles. âLet Papa Solomons do âis job, yeah. Go sit in the livinâ room. Iâll be there shortly.â
I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. âI got some washing up to do.â
âNah, that can wait. Coffee and, âopefully, food first.â He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. âGo on.â
I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. âAlright.â
Soon after he joins me on the porch, where Iâve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.
These hours are ours.
This is our Margate.
â'Ere you go, love.â Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. âNice, innit?â
âMhm.â
Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each otherâs company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. Itâs strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.
Because sleeping isnât an option.
Heâs tired of the nightmares.
The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.
Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.
And itâs already rotten enough in the morning.
As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. âJust so we âave somethinâ.â
He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. âItâs kosher?â
âIt is,â I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. âShall I go first?â
âVery funny.â He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.
âAnd? Do you like it?âÂ
Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again.Â
I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didnât quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. âYou donât.â
âDove,â he begins, but doesnât continue.Â
Not until after heâs had another bite. âItâs good.â
âI canât tell if youâre being serious or simply trying to appease me.â
âIâm serious.â
âYou are?â
âI am,ââ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell heâs being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ââBut I still donât like 'ow you got this off of the internet. âOw many times âavenât I told you, hm? You should know better by now.â
I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. Theyâre chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. âI gotta find new recipes somehow.â
âThere are cookbooks.â
âToo limited and they take up too much space.â While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. âCan I make this more often?â
âIt does taste like cake,â he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. âYes, you can.â
âWhy do you make it sound like thereâs a condition?â
âYou can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.â
Something not to be had in the kitchen.
ââDeal,ââ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ââPapa.ââ
Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint.Â
Game over.
I won.
And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#alfie solomons x reader
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seven days to say i love you
summary. you and jeno can't get enough of spending time together even when you are practically glued to each other's side at any given opportunity. but spending seven days a week for eternity with your favourite person doesn't sound like a bad idea, right?
pairing. college boyfriend! jeno x fem! reader
genre. hockey player! au, college! au, established relationship! au, friends to lovers! au, fluff
word count. 5,108
warnings/tags. none, this is 423% fluff <3 (but please let me know if i did miss out anything!)
a/n. (repost because there was an error... đ) but hi!! i'm so sorry for the inactivity, i was so busy and couldn't put out my fics like i wanted to. but i'm back with a small something (my first non-jaehyun fic,,) i wrote this a while back and changed like 3/4 of it, and i hope it'll be a fun read!! i also came back to 2.8k notes on jaehyun bolton fic (is that what we're calling it now? yes.) i donât reply to every comment/reblog/tag because by the time i see them itâs already so late, but i promise i read through and appreciate every single one of them,, thank you a million times!!!!!! i am working on more stuff now that i'm a little more free... so, as jaehyun likes to say, to be continued... :) hope everyone is well!
â
01 MONDAY.
The beginning of the week never failed to come to you in a dreadful manner, as if to make sure that you felt the full force of what most people like to call the Monday blues. Whoever was in charge of making sure that you would experience it, they certainly did not miss you out today as well.
Not that you enjoyed seeing other people suffer, but if thereâs one thing that youâre grateful for, itâs the knowledge that youâre probably not the only one who feels this way. Though, the blaring sound of your alarm ringing at seven in the morning is too eerily similar to having someone have a personal vendetta against you, serving as a very unfriendly reminder that it is also the start of the school week. Perhaps, your disdain for Mondays could be attributed to this⌠but thereâs always an exception, right?
Despite your reluctance to attend your morning lecture, you were somehow seated in the lecture theatre by nine, giving you more than enough time to lay out your laptop and the reading materials that you needed for the lesson before it started.Â
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Often only going to sleep when the sun is about to rise, Lee Jeno has an unhealthy habit of pulling all-nighters, which causes him to miss his alarm because heâd be so deep in his sleep that he would only be able to hear it after the seventh alarm has gone off, which by then, was most likely the time that he needed to leave his house if he wanted to reach on time. The worst part of this is that he was up all night for the sole reason of wanting to break his record in his mobile games; and he plays so many that even you find it difficult to keep up too. Even when you nagged at him and said that you would complain to his mum, Jeno often dismissed your words as empty threats, still not breaking his bad habit. Reading his text message to you about how he was going to be late again, you could only let out a helpless sigh as you left his message on read.
Jeno announces his appearance by quietly opening the backdoor of the lecture theatre thirty minutes later. He makes his way over to his seat next to you, genuinely appreciating how even though sitting in front is better for your eyesight, you still opted to sit around the last few rows so that itâs easier for him to join the lecture when he comes in late without causing a loud disruption to your peers.Â
âGood morning, pretty,â Jeno bends down to whisper in your ear. Removing his crossbody bag, he leaves it in the empty space between you two. Once he settles down, Jeno slides a Venti-sized Hazelnut Latte from Starbucks over to your side of the desk. The rest of the lecture goes by quickly with you and Jeno making silly commentaries about anything and everything.
âWhy did you still get me coffee?â you ask Jeno after the lecture had ended, a deep frown etched on your face. âYou were already running late, Jeno. You really didnât have to.â Being late was one thing, and making an additional stop at the cafĂŠ is another, especially because you knew that it was definitely not on the way.Â
âJust because,â Jeno replies with a loving smile. The kind of smile where his eyes would curve into beautiful crescents, his pupils almost disappearing because of how wide he is smiling at you. The kind of smile that youâd never get tired of seeing, so much so that you wordlessly lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips to say thank you.Â
Perhaps you like Mondays. Mondays with Jeno where you learnt that words left unspoken speak much more volume in expressing oneâs heart.
02 TUESDAY.
Itâs Tuesday, which means that you and Jeno have some spare time to meet up and study at the cafĂŠ near campus before his hockey practice starts. Study dates with Jeno are admittedly not as productive as you expect them to be, mainly because you often distract each other from getting any actual work done. Because of this, the both of you become public nuisances of some sort, so you had no choice but to study at a cafĂŠ instead of the quiet library. Imagine getting kicked out of the library⌠that would be an embarrassing sight.
âJeno, how do you work out the answer to question five? I wasnât paying attention when Prof taught this...â You look over at Jeno with a sheepish smile, earning a chuckle from him. He isnât even surprised by your question, guessing that you probably spaced out or dozed off during the lesson.
Without saying a word, Jeno tucks a pencil behind his ear and grabs a piece of rough paper before getting up and shifting to the empty seat next to you, leaving you confused. As if he could read your mind, Jeno speaks again before you could question him. âSo that itâll be easier to explain it to you," he mumbles.
Ironically, the close proximity between the two of you only makes it harder for you to focus, but easier for you to admire his handsome features. Puckered lips, furrowed eyebrows and his gold rimmed glasses slipping down slightly to rest on his nose bridgeâJeno couldnât look any cuter in this moment as you watch him diligently scribble on the piece of paper. He is seemingly deep in thought about how he should explain this concept to you. Watching how focused Jeno was, you took the chance to lean in, giving him a peck on the cheek before retreating back quickly, chin resting on your palm as your gaze lingers on him, slyly pretending that nothing happened.
âYou broke my train of thought!â he grunted. Jeno puts his pencil down and turns to you with an annoyed expression on his face, but swiftly looks back down on the scribbled paper upon making eye contact with you.Â
It only dawns on him now that you were staring at him the entire time.
âDonât do that, youâre distracting me.â His voice is quiet, eyes basically glued to that piece of paper.Â
âSorry, I canât help it. Youâre so handsome and cute.â You pause, seeing a bashful smile appear on his face. âDid you know that a guy is the most attractive when heâs focused?â
âDo you still want my help or not?â Jeno asks with a grimace in his voice.
âYes, yes, I do. Iâm sorry,â you apologise with a small smile. It was difficult to resist the urge of calling him cute again, but you decide not to tease him any further for the sake of his sanity.
âGood. Now pay attention, I need to leave for training soon and if you still donât get it by then... thatâs on you.â
Jeno lied. Even after long hours of training, he still went on FaceTime that night to thoroughly explain the concepts that you were unfamiliar with, not minding that he was practically fighting for his life trying not to fall asleep on you.Â
That Tuesday night, you went to sleep with the widest grin on your face. Heart carrying so much love for your boyfriend who coincidentally asked you out for the first time ever on a Tuesday too.
03 WEDNESDAY.
Wednesday's child is full of woe. If there was a sentence that could explain how you feel about this particular day, this would be it. Mid-week crisis should be an actual thing if it wasnât already one. Not only did Wednesday feel like the longest day of the week, youâd also feel extremely restless, wishing nothing more than for the weekends to come quickly.
Back-to-back seminars for six hours with only a short forty-five minute break in between had to be the most unappealing thing known to mankind, and youâd most certainly file a complaint if it was possible. Then again, this is perhaps part of the university experience.Â
However, this still isnât the most devastating part. What truly makes this a tragedy for you is that Jeno isn't there to accompany you through it all due to conflicting timetables. He also had training again, this time outside of school, which meant that heâd only be free after that.
Youâre so used to being around Jeno all the time that you canât seem to spend even the littlest amount of time away from him even though you pretty much see him almost every day of the week. Talk about being clingy.
The feelingâs mutual for Jeno though. Just like you, he seems to hate the idea of not being by your side too, evident from the numerous messages he sends throughout the day despite knowing that your replies would take longer than usual to come in.
Youâre not complaining. Because in one way or another, you feel like thatâs his way of being by your side, albeit not physically. It is his text messages of checking up on you and ensuring that you didnât skip your meals that make this unbearable day a little more bearable. Most of all, you look forward to being on FaceTime with him at night, having him all to yourself after such a long day.
Jeno usually ends training at seven-thirty in the evening, but sometimes it could overrun till eight. Thereafter, he still has to travel home for an hour or so, get dinner and wash up. He hides this from you, but very often he attempts to rush home because he doesnât want you to stay up too late waiting for him, and because he wants to talk after an entire day of not seeing you.
Jeno makes sure to call before eleven, always starting the conversation by telling you how much he misses you, as if he didnât already tell you that through text. He goes on to ramble about his day, how he saw the time match the digits of your birthdate and it made him think of you, not forgetting to also ask you how did your day go. Not long after, youâd notice his breaths becoming louder, his speech slightly slurred, and thatâs when you know that heâs going to fall asleep soon. Even so, you donât say anything, simply watching him slowly fall into a deep slumber.
âGood night Jeno,â you whisper softly, careful not to wake him up and taking one last look at how peaceful he looks before ending the call.
04 THURSDAY.
Due to how busy the both of you were, you are grateful for the small gap that Jeno has between classes and practices, just so that youâd still be able to see his face. Once it's about time for him to leave, you get ready to say goodbye to Jeno with a warm hug , when he suddenly stops you by placing his hand over yours.
âDo you want to watch me train?â he asks. âYou can say no. But I just thought we could get dinner after so we can spend a little more time together,â Jeno adds, his thumb rubbing small circles against your knuckle. An air of expectancy fills the small booth that the both of you occupy in the reading room as he awaits your answer.Â
âIâd love to, Jen.â Flipping his hand over so that you could intertwine your fingers together, you jokingly rush Jeno to pack up his things, telling him how excited you are to finally sit in and watch him train for the first time ever. Youâve only ever heard funny anecdotes of his teammates from him every once in a while, and youâre beyond elated to finally meet the people who bring so much joy into his life.
On the way to the hockey rink, you ask Jeno more about the sport and various positions. You werenât a sports person but thought that itâd be a good time to know more about it, especially because of Jenoâs immense passion towards hockey.
âSo what position do you play?â you glance over at him with curious eyes.
âCentre,â he says, a sense of pride in his voice. Before you could ask him what that position entails, Jeno beats you to it with a rather cheeky explanation. âYou just need to know that itâs called centre because Iâm supposed to be the centre of your attention.â
True to his words, Jeno remains as the centre of your attention for the entire duration. Youâd never admit this to him, but he becomes even more charming than he already is when heâs on the rink. Especially during the friendly match that his team had with a neighbouring school towards the end of practice, his entire demeanour changed so much that youâd think that you were watching an entirely different person.
The way Jeno plays is extremely captivating to watch. Youâre not sure how he does it, but you can see him mentally strategizing his next move as the clock ticks. Even down to the last minute of the match, Jeno had not let his guard down, the fire in his eyes so prominent that anyone could see that he was determined to end this with a bang.Â
Skating across the rink, Jeno moves at the speed of light, making it hard for his opponents to catch him. He is the ace of the team after all, so it wouldnât be that easy to mess with him. His eyes follow the puck, set on scoring yet another goal despite their favourable lead. The opponents are in full defence mode too, though it wouldnât make much of a difference since there's too short of a duration left for them to catch up. Speedily, Jeno intercepts the puck from the opposing team, skating away at high speed, still vigilantly guarding the puck with his stick. With the help of his teammates who effectively block the opponent from getting to Jeno, he manages to catch both your eyes and heart in that moment, making you hold your breath in anticipation as he skilfully shoots the puck into the goal at the very last second.
In the matter of a few minutes, Jeno returns to his usual self, smiling widely and cheering loudly with his teammates to celebrate their victory. And of course, he turns to look at you, giving you a smile that holds some semblance of shyness. Itâs fascinating to watch how different he is on and off the rink, but it also reminds you how in love you are with the many sides of him; those you have seen and those that you have yet to uncover.
As promised, Jeno takes you to the burger joint down the alley near your university afterwards. During dinner, he still reenacts the funny incidents that happened during training even though you were present when they occurred. Though, this sweet gesture admittedly warms your heart because it makes you feel even more included in his life, as though he is gradually inviting you to be a part of his world, just as you do the same when talking about your interests and hobbies with him.
Time seems to slow down whenever youâre with him but thatâs okay because time is merely a social construct. What matters is that you get to spend time with Jeno, who is now walking you home. With his hand in yours, Jeno slows down his footsteps to match your pace. The atmosphere is filled with shared laughter, along with Sweet Nothing softly playing through Jenoâs airpods, both of you taking one side each. It would have been wired earphones, but a certain someone claims that it gets in the way⌠of what, he refuses to elaborate.Â
It is also a homely moment like this that makes the both of you wish that time could slow down even more as you basked in each otherâs comforting presence, sharing the same sentiment of hoping that the walk to your house will last a little longer. Anything to prolong the time that you spend with each other, right?
05 FRIDAY.
Friday may be your favourite day of the week because it is when Jeno is finally free after three consecutive days of training. It is also movie night, where you and Jeno would take turns to go over to each otherâs place every Friday evening.Â
It was a few weeks into freshman year, when the two of you made this pact after discovering that you were neighbours. How is it possible that youâve never noticed Jeno before anyway?
Funny enough, it all began with you telling your mum that you made a new friend in college who goes by the name of Jeno. That name clearly rang a bell, prompting her to start narrating her grocery adventures with Jenoâs mother, excitedly telling you how close they were. In her words, âJeno is a really sweet boy, Iâve been dying to introduce you to him but it slipped my mind so many times!â Gushing about the said boy, she hurried you to invite his family over for dinner, rushing into the kitchen herself to whip a meal up in no time.
The awkwardness of the dinner was enough to kill you from the inside, to say the least. Mothers being mothers, you had to admit that you were amazed at their ability to jump from topic to topic in the span of a few minutes. Together with Jenoâs and your father laughing, they also joined in the conversation from time to time. Meanwhile, you and Jeno sat in silence side by side, and spoke only when necessary.
âI donât mean to be rude, but can we excuse ourselves? Itâs my first time at your house and I was wondering if ____ could show me around.â Jeno asked, giving your mum a polite smile as he glanced sideways at you momentarily.
âOf course! The two of you should get to know each other better. Ah, young loââ
You cleared your throat, preventing your mum from completing her sentence. âFriendship,â she corrected herself.
Believe it or not, you had no idea how dramatic of a person she was up until this moment, or maybe itâs because there was something about Jeno that reeled in her overflowing sense of, youâre guessing, motherly love? That would also explain why the old ladies at the school cafeteria were so nice to Jeno, constantly giving him extra servings. You didnât know what to think of Jenoâs suggestion since youâve only known him for a few weeks, and being alone with him couldnât be any better after having such an awkward dinner. At that time, however, it seemed like it was the next best alternative that you had.
âLetâs go.â You stood up abruptly to disrupt the conversation so that the adults (specifically, your mum) would not have an opportunity to say anything else to make the atmosphere any weirder than it already was. Jeno trailed behind you like a lost puppy, quickly following you upstairs to your room.
âIâm so sorry, my mum doesnât think before she speaks sometimes. I hope you donât mind what she said.â You broke the silence, not knowing where this conversation was going exactly, suddenly regretting speaking at all. You took a quick look at Jeno, who was now leaning against the doorframe, standing quite a distance away from the edge of your bed where you were sitting.
âDonât worry about it,â he said with a soft smile while shaking his head lightly.
âAm I making you uncomfortable?â you asked, the smile on his face now replaced with a frown as he gave you a quizzical look. Â
âYouâre still leaning against the door?â you asked again, even though it was meant to be more of a statement rather than a question.
Jeno bursted out laughing, âI thought I was making you uncomfortable!â He raised his hand to rub the nape of his neck. He moved away from the door to sit next to you, still leaving a small space between you two.
âWant to watch The Lion King?â you suggested, mindlessly browsing through Disney Plus.
âAre you kidding me?âÂ
You creased your eyebrows in confusion. âNo... why?â
âI love Lion King!â Jeno said a little too enthusiastically, his eyes widening at how there were so many movies in the world, yet you somehow suggested watching his favourite Disney movie.
With the awkward tension in the atmosphere finally gone, you and Jeno made yourselves comfortable on your bed. Unknowingly, the both of you scooted closer to each otherâs side as the movie played. By the time the credits scene started to roll, the both of you were already fast asleep, your legs tangled with each otherâs under the sheets.Â
And as most people would like to say, the rest is history.
However, Fridays werenât just reserved for movie nights. Soon enough, Friday nights also turned into sleepover nights, which meant that other than your usual movie marathons, you and Jeno end up doing other things too.
Like now, the two of you just ended a karaoke singing session that you would most probably never have again. It was far too loud in the night for your neighbourâs liking, causing them to lodge a complaint, making you and Jeno permanently cross that out of your sleepover activities.Â
Jeno comes up with a better idea of setting up a cosy outdoor blanket fort in your backyard to lay on. The sense of tranquillity is like no other, you and Jeno having a heart-to-heart talk in hushed whispers with crickets chirping in the background.
In the end, you fall asleep first, feeling burnt out from the entire school week. Although Jeno knows that youâre already asleep, he still makes sure to pat your head lightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. âGood night angel,â he breathes, wrapping his arms around your waist before drifting to sleep.
06 SATURDAY.
Saturdays are without a doubt, the most exciting for you. As a matter of fact, dating Jeno is a thrill in itself; but what makes Saturdays exceptional is Jeno taking you out on proper dates.
You and Jeno have been together for slightly over three years now, yet every date always feels like the first. The butterflies in your stomach? They never go away.Â
Initially, going on a date with Jeno seemed to be nerve-wracking to you because heâd always bring you somewhere new. Naturally, you thought it was the suspense of not knowing what he planned that made you feel this way.
Deep down, however, you knew that you simply felt this way because it was⌠Jeno.Â
âWhy donât I have anything to wear?â you shout in exasperation to no one in particular as you rummage through the closet to find a perfect outfit for your date. It feels like Jeno has already seen you in everything that you own, and youâre this close to going on Pinterest for outfit ideas.Â
That is, until you hear a text notification sound from your phone. It was a text message from Jeno informing you that he's coming over in five minutes. You give up searching, hastily picking out a white turtleneck, layering an autumn brown velvet overall over it.Â
âYou look pretty today.â This is the first thing that Jeno says to you when you open the door, once again leaning against the door frame with a mellow smile on his face. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks because of his compliment.
And there it is again, the butterflies. Lee Jeno looking as flawless as he could be, a cosmic latte dress shirt tucked with a pair of black pants along with a brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders, coincidentally matching your outfit. To top it off, heâs wearing a beret today too, suddenly making him look cuter. Itâs as if he travelled back in time, turning into your Victorian boyfriend.Â
âBut... why are you dressed like this?â Jeno asks, rudely interrupting your staring session.
âWhy? Is there something wrong with my outfit?â you were perplexed by his sudden question. Did he not like it? Should you change out of it? He said you looked pretty though. Besides, what else were you going to wear? You stare intently at Jeno, anxious about what he's going to say next. You hope it isnât something bad.
âI thought I told you we were going cycling...â He stops mid-sentence, brows raised as he purposefully gives you a once-over again.
The tension in your shoulders disappears upon hearing his words. You roll your eyes at him, pushing his right shoulder lightly. âYouâre going to ride a bicycle in a leather jacket?â
âNevermind, please pretend I never said that.â Jeno makes a sulky expression upon realising that he did not plan out his joke well. But he is also quick to shoot you an endearing smile. âI love your outfit, baby.â
âYouâre so lucky youâre cute, Lee Jeno.â And that I love you.
Thank goodness though, you were definitely not prepared to make another mess out of your wardrobe to search for another outfit when youâve painstakingly organised it ten minutes ago.
In many ways, dates with Jeno always feel like the first. A simple thing, like the slight brush of your shoulders against each other as youâre walking down a random shopping street was sufficient to send your heart racing. Jenoâs hesitation to hold your hand in a crowded amusement park even though he really wants to, but he doesnât know when is the right time to grab itâyou can feel it, he fumbles with his fingers, reaches out every now and then, but pulls back immediately when his fingers accidentally meet yours.
And the memory of today that you canât seem to forget. Itâs spring, so Jeno thought that itâs a perfect time to bring you to a flower field located at the outskirts of the city. Heâd once seen you looking at pictures of it on Instagram, making a mental note about it before he went home to do more research that night.
It wasnât an uncommon thing for Jeno to take pictures of you, but when the both of you arrived, he didnât stop at all, you swear he probably has a thousand pictures of you just from today.
However, what surprised you more was that when you asked Jeno to pose in front of the daisy fields, he happily did, even though there was still a hint of shyness within him since he wasnât exactly comfortable with being photographed at times. He even went as far as to ask the other visitors to help take pictures of the both of you together, which was something you usually did. It wasnât something extravagant, but it sure was endearing, and youâre positive that discovering a new side of Jeno made you giddy. So giddy that you never knew how it was possible for your heart to be swelling with so much love for another person.
Just like how daisies symbolise new beginnings, you hope that it's the same for you and Jenoâs story too. To not have endings, but only new beginnings.
07 SUNDAY.
Being certified homebodies, you and Jeno wholeheartedly enjoy staying in. It is also perhaps an excuse for the both of you to cuddle and nap together. Youâd think that by the end of the week, youâll be tired of seeing Jenoâs face for the seventh time. You joke that you are, but in reality, you could never bring yourself to grow tired of being together with your favourite person.
You usually go over to Jenoâs house in the afternoon, which is the ideal time to take a nap. Sometimes, you prayed that it would rain, so that youâll have an excuse to steal one of his hoodies. Even so, he lets you take them as and when you want to. What is he supposed to do, say no? Of course not.Â
Napping wasnât supposed to be your favourite hobby, but if it meant that you could enjoy the warmth and comfort of being in Jenoâs embrace, then clearly, any other hobby in the world couldnât possibly compare to it. Like a baby, you snuggle close to rest your head on Jenoâs chest, putting your arms around his neck, taking in his soft cotton scent. The faint sound of his heartbeat and gentle breathing lulls you to sleep, it is very much like a lullaby on its own.Â
The best feeling in the world is to wake up the same way you fell asleepâstill in Jenoâs arms. Not wanting to awake him, you slowly loosen your arms from his neck. Carefully, you brush his hair to the side, getting a clearer view of his face as you tenderly caress the mole below his eye, and then his cheek. He has pretty eyelashes, youâve come to notice.
âJeno,â you call out softly, in hopes of waking him up, but not wanting to be too loud at the same time. You wanted to let him continue sleeping, but the sky is already dark.
âJeno, itâs time to wake up,â you try again. The clock on his side table reads half past six in the evening, indicating that it is almost dinnertime. His eyes were still shut, but he let out a groggy sound to let you know that he was awake, mumbling something shortly after. You didnât quite catch it, but you think that he asked you to let him sleep for another five minutes. Typical Jeno.
âBut itâs time for dinner,â you try to sit up, only causing Jeno to hug your waist tighter. You could barely move an inch with the way he was holding you.
âJust five minutes.â You let out a sigh, giving in to him.
âJeno?âÂ
He hums in response, which you take as a cue to ask your question. âWould you still love me if I were a worm?â
His eyelids finally flutter open, sleep still evident in his eyes. He appears to be in deep thought about your question before he answers. âYeah. Iâd still love you.â
âHmmâŚâ You narrow your eyes at him. âThat took you a while to answer.â
âI just woke up,â he retorts.
âFine.â You close your eyes and move closer to Jenoâs body, enjoying how he feels like your personal human pillow.
âOkay but what if there were other cuter worms? Like if I werenât your ideal worm girlfriend, would you still date me?â
âBabyâŚâ
#jeno imagines#jeno scenarios#jeno fluff#jeno x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct#nct dream#lee jeno#jeno
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Red Carpet
PAIRING | Husband!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Pregnant!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.4K
SUMMARY | You're attending a movie premiere with Tony and are by far the most beautiful woman there if you ask him. From the beautiful dress to your baby bump, Tony couldn't be prouder to share your love with the world. When he goes down on his knees before you in the middle of the red carpet, he will officially make it one to never forget, and you will fall even more in love with your husband.
RATING | General (G)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, use of nicknames (My Love, Sunshine)
A/N | This is a surprise and gift for my bestest and dearest friend and biggest supporter @ccbsrmsf1. Carol, quero começar dizendo o quanto sou grato por ter vocĂŞ em minha vida. VocĂŞ se tornou uma grande parte disso e sou muito grato por vocĂŞ! Assim que vocĂŞ me pediu para usar esta foto do nosso homem, obviamente nĂŁo pude recusar, e espero que vocĂŞ goste de babar nele enquanto lĂŞ minha histĂłria. Obrigado por estar na minha vida, e eu te amo 3000 đ
A/N | This is not proofread, so any and all mistakes are my own.
EVENTS Masterlist | @fandombingo |Â Caught on Camera Masterlist | @slumberpartybingo | Would you rather... Rain OR Sun
Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist
"What do you think, My Love? Are we going for red or yellow today?" you ask Tony as you're standing in the middle of your walk-in closet, looking at your two dress options. He's wearing a black suit with a floral shirt, and both possibilities match perfectly, but you're feeling indecisive.
"Hmm, how about the red dress? You know I adore it when you wear the color of passion," Tony says as he stands behind you, his arms wrapping gently around your waist to find their home on your round belly. You're currently 7,5 months pregnant, carrying your second boy and third child overall.
"I like the way you think," you tell him as you melt into his touch. His warm body always feels so comfortable, and when he's holding you like this, it's so intimate in the best way possible. When you're about to say something, you can hear the pitter-patter of feet into your closet, notifying you that one of your other Munchkins is there.
"Are you going with the red dress, Mommy? It's my favorite color!" your daughter Orion says as she joins you and Tony in your cuddle, but she's on your side.
"Yes, Babygirl, I'm going to wear the red dress tonight," you tell her, basking in the love your husband and daughter are giving you. When you're about to ask where Hudson is, he comes in, too, joining the bundle of hugs. Your family now surrounds you, and you couldn't be happier as the butterflies in your chest go wild.
"As much as I love every single one of your hugs, I still need to get dressed for tonight," you tell all three of them with a chuckle, and they all let you go so you can get ready to go to the premiere for a movie in which Tony is playing the main character.
It takes a little while to be fully dressed and ready to go to the premiere, and you're excited to show everyone the finished outfit. Your hair is in a beautiful bun with a few pieces framing your face, and your make-up is light to keep the main focus on your dress - and, of course, your belly.
As you walk into the kitchen, you find Tony talking to Maria, who has happily agreed to watch the twins tonight. As you walk in, you feel like you're floating, which only intensifies when you see Tony's expression. His jaw is almost on the floor as he looks at you while being rendered completely speechless.
The red fabric hugs all your curves beautifully, and the off-shoulder look combined with the low neckline ensures every inch of your upper chest tattoos is displayed. Right above your right collarbone is one of the ones you're most proud of: Tony's name written in his handwriting.
"You look stunning, Sunshine," Tony whispers as he walks over to you. His mom is long forgotten as he only has eyes for you. The smile on your face hasn't been this big in a while, and your husband once again manages to make you feel like you're the center of the universe - which, in his defense, you are to him.
"You look amazing too, Tony and tonight is all about you, so I hope my outfit won't take too much attention away from you." You have never been one to enjoy the spotlight particularly, but sometimes, during nights like this, you make an exception and go with Tony to celebrate him and his achievements.
His deep, dark brown eyes look into yours, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tries to see if you genuinely believe what you just said.
"Oh Sunshine, my sweet, beautiful, amazing Sunshine. With the way you look tonight, there's not a single person who will even dare to look away from you. I am sure all eyes will be on you, and I am happy. Tonight is just as much about you as it is about me because I want to show off the woman I fell in love with, and I want to show everyone our love," he says with his hand on your belly.
"Okay, okay! Now let's go before I have to reapply my mascara!" you tell him with a breathy laugh, trying hard to fight against the tears threatening to spill at his beautiful confession. He agrees, and with one last goodbye to your twins and Maria, you're out the door and on your way to the premiere.
"Are you ready to walk down the red carpet, Sunshine?" Tony asks as he stands before you, his hands resting on your face to calm you down. The nerves are soaring through your body, and he helps to calm you down.
"Y-yeah, let's do this," you answer him after a deep breath, and he places a small peck on your lips before letting your face go and grabbing your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. After one last reassuring smile, you two walk onto the carpet, flashing lights everywhere.
The hand not holding Tony's rests comfortably on your belly, showing it off even more. Photographers left and right are shouting your husband's name, and he seems to revel in every bit of attention he can get. You look over at him, only to find him staring back at you with a beaming smile, and you lean in for a small kiss.
When your lips touch his, the crowd around you goes wild, making you feel loved. Of course, you have seen all the articles about you and Tony being Hollywood's power couple, but it only seems real once you attend events like this together. Far too soon for your liking, he pulls away, ready to move on to the next part of the carpet. What he does there, however, completely catches you by surprise, and you will look back on these photos with a huge smile later.
Tony sinks to his knees in front of you, his face level with your belly as he peppers it with a generous amount of kisses everywhere. His hands stroke it softly, and you can't help but laugh at your husband's weird antics.
It's no surprise he's proud of the fact that you're pregnant because of him, and this only intensifies it. Before getting up, he places his head against your belly for a few seconds with his eyes closed, taking in the moment. It's just you, him, and your beautiful baby boy in your belly - the rest of the world has fallen outside your little bubble.
"I love you so much, Sunshine," he tells you before placing one last kiss on your lips and moving on, ready for the interview parts of the red carpet. When you encounter the first interviewer, they immediately discuss what Tony has just done.
"So, Y/N, what did you think of Tony's actions just now?" the woman asks, and you laugh loudly before answering, shaking your head in response.
"Honestly, I wouldn't have expected anything else. Let's be honest: we all know he's a little crazy but also deeply in love. Not just with me, but also with our baby," you answer, and Tony nods in agreement, unable to take his eyes off you.
"How does it feel to be attending tonight's celebration with your beautiful wife?" she asks Tony, who blushes lightly as the woman calls you his wife. Sometimes, he still can't believe he got so lucky with you, and to call you his wife is the cherry on top for him.
"It feels amazing! She's there for me no matter what, during good times and bad, through rain and sun, and I wouldn't want it any other way. She's doing a great job building her career as a real estate agent while carrying our third baby, and I'm incredibly proud of everything she does. She's the love of my life, and every day, I thank my lucky stars for being hers," Tony tells the lady, who can't stop smiling at his answer.
"To have her by my side on nights like these is something I will never take for granted, of course, and I'm always deeply thankful for her, and I can't wait to grow old with her!" Tony finishes the interview before leaning in and kissing you again, this time more passionately than before.
"I love you so much, Sunshine," he tells you, and you tell him how much you also love him. This night will be unforgettable, and you're looking forward to many more nights like this one, as long as you can have your husband by your side.
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