#also the music is making me tear up. it's so soft and quaint and hopeful
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willosword · 2 years ago
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oh i am only 5 minutes into the new pokemon anime and i'm already in love
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damerondala · 2 years ago
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🍒Soooo how’ve you been? Me? Oh i’m just thinking mushy thots about my blorbos. Like waking up to lazy kisses, gently swaying together in the kitchen or on the porch, cuddles starting to turn frisky but then dying back down into cuddles because you both realize you’re too tired and it’s still enough to just lay together… 🥲 I always picture Crosshair in these daydreams because i think it’s such a nice juxtaposition to his usual cold demeanor and i’m a sucker for that sorta thing lol. But i’m sure you’ve got Wrecker on your mind ;) 🍒
CHERRY!!!!!!!!!!!!
i have had this draft unfinished since like fucking august oh my god i missed you dude i hope you're still around to see this <3 love ya hope you enjoy a soft but also a lil steamy hehe kitchen moment with cross
~
The sweltering day turned to dusk quickly, your quaint kitchen being the only place that gave you the space to breathe after a long, tiresome work day. After kicking off your shoes and plopping your belongings on your cushy armchair next to the window (a safe haven from the cruel world most days), you found yourself barefooted on the tile you had spent days convincing Cross to buy and help install for you, thinking about what to cook you two for dinner.
After gathering your ingredients, you set off to work. Unwillingly, your mind continued to reminisce on your stressful day: your manager blaming you for their mistakes, customers being impatient and rude, meetings upon meetings to sit through...
Your hands trembled as the unpleasant incidents took refuge in your mind, playing over and over, your self-esteem and pride being wounded. The weight of the world was on your shoulders and you could really feel it tonight, about to call it quits, toss everything out and put that take-out coupon to good use when you felt yet another weight resting on your shoulders. This one not nearly as unpleasant as the rest.
You melted into his chest, back pressing against him as he wrapped you up in his arms and squeezed gently. He could tell the second he walked in the door you were having what you would always refer to as "an off day", the air was never quite as thick when you were having a good day. Music usually playing while you practically pranced through the kitchen subconsciously. It was never an act, he noticed that it was just how you are. He was always quite the observer.
"What do you need?" You sighed at that. Pushing away just enough to turn around to face him, then melting back into his embrace against the counter. Always looking so handsome, that one. You wanted to just forget about the day you had and make some private memories that could help you out on your future inevitable bad days, so you grabbed his face and pulled him in to catch a kiss. He went along with it, of course, hands slowly sliding down your hips until he almost had a palmful of your soft flesh, but he stopped before it could go any farther.
"Do you really want to or are you just trying to create a distraction?"
Dammit, Cross. You felt the urge to cry, terrible, uncomfortable heat pooling at the back of your eyes and your mouth formed into a frown, the tears finally coming. You cried and wailed until everything was out, and Crosshair was right there with you the whole time against that kitchen counter. The half-chopped vegetables forgotten as you found solace in your lover's embrace. He was always there, always your sturdy rock in a world of uncertainty and hurt. Once your cries subsided to sniffles, he guided you to the couch and laid down with you, rubbing your back and occasionally pressing quick, soft pecks to the top of your head, or really wherever he could reach. Your eyes were puffy and you knew your tear-stained cheeks were far from alluring, but that didn't stop Crosshair from planting a kiss to your lips and lingering close enough so you could hear him whisper, "I love you. Tomorrow will be better."
~
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scxrlettwxtches · 3 years ago
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a life with you | hwang hyunjin
genre: assassin au, epilogue(?), inspired by @chaninfused​ “row, row, row your boat” universe
description: when you have doubts about your future with hyunjin, the assassin is more than happy to reassure you that all he wanted was to be with you. 
word count: 2.8k+
a/n: i am officially a month late and terribly sorry, furat dear. TT happy (very belated) birthday to you! thank you so much for screaming with me about hyunjin, rrryb, and everything else in between. most of all, thank you for being such a dear friend. <3 i really hope you enjoy!
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For the first time since Hyunjin became your friend, your confidante, and then your darling, doubts about your relationship began to fester into gnarly thorns, sitting in the deep recesses of your heart. 
It didn't have anything to do with your love for Hyunjin. On the contrary, your love for the man was stronger than ever, built upon a bond of trust and deep care for one another. Hyunjin had stood by your side through the highs and the lows, just as you had watched him discover what it means to love someone, watched him discover that he himself was capable of being loved. 
No, your doubt stemmed from an instinctual fear that the two of you were simply not compatible because you would never be able to assimilate into the lifestyle he grew up in. 
You thought you could do it, at first. After all, what's so hard about being well off? What's so hard about being able to splurge a little extra money on your clothes, your food, your overall lifestyle? 
You quickly learned that noble life wasn't quite as simple as that. 
For one thing, it was overwhelming to the highest degree. Ever since you agreed to attend the banquet with Hyunjin as his significant other, you'd been thrust into an endless cycle of dress fittings, shoe fittings, and practically any other type of fitting that exists. The party itself was also an overstimulation of all your senses; there was so much to see, so much to comprehend and hear and say that it all just got a bit too much for poor you.
So that was why you were here alone, standing on an empty balcony to find some fresh air, some quiet, and some peace. The wind felt nice against your skin in comparison to the stuffy rooms and banquet halls, and you couldn't help but wonder guiltily if you could head home by yourself. You didn't want to bother Hyunjin, of course, who was born noble and was probably enjoying himself. 
“Oh, thank goodness, I've finally found you!” 
As if the stars had heard you, Hyunjin stepped out into the balcony, his expression wrought with relief as he made his way towards you, taking your hands in his. 
As you gazed upon him, those long lashes, those soft lips, and above all, those gentle eyes that held nothing but love, affection, and concern as he studied your face, you found yourself once again falling deeper in love with him, as if that was even possible. 
“Why did you abandon me in there?” The assassin almost whined, and you fought back a smile as you rubbed your thumbs against the back of his hands.
“I just needed some air, and you seemed preoccupied,” you explained, ducking your head slightly as Hyunjin shrugged off his long coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“But you didn't need to escape so quickly without telling me,” he argued like a petulant child when his eyes suddenly flashed with a sharpness that you hadn't seen in a while, “Unless...did something happen?” 
Damn Hwang Hyunjin and his ridiculously fine-tuned awareness. 
You shook your head, running your hand up and down his arm, “Nothing happened,” you smiled soothingly. 
“But you look unhappy,” he insisted, cupping your cheek with his gentle hands, worry filling his dark brown irises, “My darling, please tell me what is wrong.” 
Inside, Hyunjin was panicking. He knew you better than he knew himself, and he knew the look of uncertainty on your face when he saw it. Were you beginning to have second thoughts about him? Was being with him becoming more of a burden than a blessing to you? Was the constant little weight in his coat pocket something that he’ll have to throw away soon?
Logically, Hyunjin was almost sure that any of those possibilities weren't true. You loved him, and you loved him dearly. The two of you have been through thick and thin together, and he knew your love for him was as deep as the darkest oceans and as pure as the sunrise sky. But yet, the coil of doubt could not totally recede from his mind. After all, you were always so much more than he could ever dare ask for. 
“Hyunjin,” you spoke softly, your smile so knowing that the assassin felt more at ease just at the sound of your voice, “Relax.”
“So something is wrong, my love?” 
You sighed, cursing at Hyunjin’s endearingly insistent nature. Hyunjin was a fixer at heart. Whatever was bothering him, whatever was bothering the people he loved, he was proactive about finding a solution. He’d go to the ends of the earth to find one if need be, which was what he did for your precious daughter all that time ago. 
But this, this wasn’t a problem that you were sure he could fix.
“I don’t know if this is going to work, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin had never experienced such physical heartache until this very moment. His eyes widened with alarm, a terror that he could hardly keep clamped down, but ever the gentleman, he waited for you to finish before interjecting.
“I know you were so eager to introduce me into this world, to give me luxury that I didn’t experience before, but truthfully, I don’t enjoy this lifestyle,” you confessed, gesturing to the ballroom where the party was still ongoing, where the lords and ladies chatted and drank the night away, “It’s stifling for me, Hyunjin. But this is your life, and I don’t want to take that away from you--”
You found your answer in the searing kiss that closed the gap between his lips and yours. Hyunjin’s kisses were passionate, palettes of red and orange that swept you off your feet time and time again, but they weren’t all consuming. His fire was warm, homely, loving, and you quickly found yourself wondering why you had any doubts in the first place.
“Is that what was worrying you?” He murmured, pulling away with bright eyes as he brushed the hair away from your face, “That I wouldn't want to leave this life for you?” 
“Oh, I didn't doubt that you'd leave if that was what I truly wanted,” you assured him, your hands resting against his chest as he listened intently to every word you said, “And that worried me. I don't want to make you choose between me and your life here.” 
Hyunjin shook his head, brushing your cheek with his gentle, yet calloused fingers, “You've got it all wrong, my darling,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours for a short moment before pulling away, “Come with me?” 
Confused, excited and only slightly worried, you followed him wordlessly, placing your safety in his hands without question, as you've always done. Hyunjin led you back inside the estate, but not back towards the party that you were so obviously trying to avoid. Instead, he took you somewhere the music seemed to blend into the peaceful silence and where the mindless chatter faded  into nothingness. 
"Am I even allowed to be here?" You were pretty sure you had no need to whisper, but you still found yourself doing it. 
“I'm allowed, so you're allowed by association,” Hyunjin said with a smile, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face as he laced your fingers together, tugging you down the hallway until he stopped at a particular room. 
“Miss?” He bowed dramatically, making you giggle as he opened the door, pulling you in. 
You looked around the space, a quaint little thing with a small office desk and a simple bed, but everything was clearly expensive and high quality. Even though most of the design and decor was quite minimal, there were little touches like the choice of wooden, the scent of the candle, the distinct stuffed animal that you remembered was once Nari’s. It all just screamed Hyunjin.
“Is this your room?” You asked with a soft laugh, brushing your fingers against the wooden surface of his drawer before picking up the small stuffed bear.
“Yes. I didn't need much space, and I'm not here often, so I just took one of the smaller guest rooms,” Hyunjin chuckled before turning and seeing you with the familiar stuffed animal in your hands. His expression morphed into one of nostalgic happiness at the memory of someone that meant the world to him and pain at the reminder of his own failure, “Oh, that was one of Nari's stuffies.”
“I remember,” you found yourself smiling sadly, lost in the memories as you squeezed the stuffed animal gently. 
Hyunjin walked over, eyes distant as he gently placed his hand on it's head, “Wherever I used to watch over Nari while you ran errands, she always wanted me to play with this stuffed animal in particular,” he chuckled softly, “I always want to have a part of her in my life, so I held onto it. I hope that's alright with you.” 
Your eyes watered as you gazed up at the man who you loved unconditionally. Such a gentle soul, a person who'd treasure all that were close to him, a man who had such a natural instinct to nurture and care for others. 
“Of course, it's alright,” you smiled, placing the stuffed animal down, “I-it's more than alright. She always loved it when you came around to see her.” 
Hyunjin chuckled, wiping the corner of your eye with a delicate swipe of his finger before gently guiding you to his desk, “Close your eyes, my darling.”
“Why?” You raised a suspicious eyebrow as your hip leaned against the desk and Hyunjin stood before you. 
“Because!” His lips curled into a pout, “I have a surprise for you.” 
“You better not have bought me another shawl, darling. I don't mind that the last one got a small tear in it,” you berated him preemptively, worried that Hyunjin had fallen back into his habit of overly indulging you for the sake of making you happy. 
Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled, and you wondered briefly if he was the only person who seemed to enjoy being nagged at, “Just close your eyes, darling. Please?”
Oh, he wasn’t playing fair anymore, not as he flashed those irresistible puppy eyes, and you could do little more than let your eyes flutter shut. You felt his hands take yours, guiding you to open your hands with your palm facing upward. Giddy with anxiety, your confusion was palpable as you felt a featherlight weight fall into your hands.
“Alright, open.”
When you opened your eyes, you could barely hide your puzzled expression as you inspected the piece of paper that Hyunjin placed in your hands. Unfolding it, you scanned through the contents to get to the chase and then--
The paper fell to the ground as you let out an audible gasp, whipping your head up to glance at your lover. It was his sheepish, excited and slightly anxious expression that truly made it real to you.
“Was that a good gasp or a bad gasp?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood. 
“It’s…” you swallowed, still trying to sort through the plethora of emotions that were clouding your mind, “it’s real.”
Hyunjin couldn’t fight his smile, realizing that he’d made you speechless for one of the first times in his life, “It is, darling.”
“B-but, it’s right in that secluded area outside of town, the place that I always--” you spun around to face Hyunjin, utterly dumbfounded, “How did you know?”
The assassin laughed, picking up the deed which you had rather unceremoniously dropped on the floor, “We were taking the carriage back to your bakery once, and I noticed the way you looked at the cottages in that area. Plus, you mentioned once that you’d want to live a simple and secluded life, and this location fit your description quite perfectly. It’s nothing really--”
Your lips pressed against his as you shut him up with a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and holding him close, “I love you,” you murmured without an ounce of hesitation as you pulled away from Hyunjin, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
Hyunjin looked dazed, utterly lovestruck as he gazed into your eyes, pulling you towards him as he sat on the edge of his desk, “Do you like it?” He asked softly, playing with your fingers and making you smile. Oh, Hyunjin, always so eager to please, so eager to do things right for you, to make your life easier. You wondered how you ever deserved such a lover. 
“I do,” you smiled softly, looking down at your hands.
“It’s a small cottage, but it has enough space for us and...more...if that situation ever arises,” Hyunjin’s ears seemed to redden, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was so gently insinuating. 
“I love it,” you whispered, watching as your fingers laced together. 
Hyunjin’s eyes brightened, “You do?”
“I do,” you smiled at his eagerness, “Do you? Do you want this life? I won’t fault you at all if you do not--”
“Oh, my darling,” Hyunjin murmured, gazing into your eyes as you drowned in his loving gaze, his bottomless affections for you that gave you the butterflies even after so long, “When will you realize that I want nothing more than to live a quiet, simple life with you? When will you realize that some of my most treasured moments were with you and Nari in your cramped little bakery? All I've ever wanted was to find a nice, quaint little location that wasn't too far from the town, and for us to grow old there together…”
Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you brought his hand to your lips, kissing it gingerly, “That’s all I want, too,” you confessed, “I want to live quietly and happily with you, put our suffering behind us…”
Hyunjin was silent for a moment before he tugged you towards him, “If that’s what we both want,” he trailed off, red dusting his cheeks as he looked down, “would you like to get married?” 
It wasn’t a sudden proposal. Hyunjin and you had vaguely mulled over the idea for months now, especially since it was becoming increasingly clearer that the two of you loved no one but each other. But to hear those direct words falling from his lips, with no lighthearted quips or jabs to deflect the sincerity of it, it utterly floored you.
The assassin took your silence for doubt, and he looked back up at you with shining eyes, “I know you had bad experiences with your past marriage. My line of work isn’t exactly stable either. But, Y/N, I’ll spend my life showing you that a future with me will be worth your while. Would you,” he swallowed nervously, “would you let me do just that, my darling?”
“Oh, darling,” you murmured, reaching forward and cupping his cheek with your hand. He leaned into it almost desperately, “You have nothing to prove, nothing to show. We’re equals in this relationship,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes and gently pecking him on the nose, “And yes, I’d love to marry you, Hyunjin.”
The childlike sparkle in his eyes made you giggle as you watched him physically process your words. Slight confusion, then disbelief, then awe. 
“Really?! Oh, my love, I’m so happy!” Hyunjin lifted you in his arms, spinning you around as you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. When he placed you down, he fumbled around in his back pocket, eyes wide, “I-I can’t believe I forgot this! We were having such a soft moment and the question just slipped out of my mouth--”
Giggles burst from your lips as Hyunjin finally managed to pull out a black velvet box, revealing a small, simple, yet priceless diamond ring. It was so undeniably Hyunjin to get so caught up in proposing that he’d forget to present the engagement ring to you, and you found the two of you chuckling about it up until he gingerly slipping the silver band onto your third finger.
“Oh, I do have a request from Jisung, who wants to be present at the wedding,” Hyunjin said when the two of you were finally curled up in his bed, embracing each other’s warmth.
“I’d be happy to invite him,” you chuckled, looking down at your finger and at the glimmering stone that now rested on it, “It’s beautiful, by the way. The ring.”
Hyunjin smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair, “I passed a jewelry shop when I was running some errands for your bakery, and it just reminded me so much of you,” he said, brushing his fingers across is, “Elegant and beautiful.”
“Such a flatterer,” you complained to hide the heat in your cheeks.
“Oh, no no. There will be much more of that now that we’re engaged,” Hyunjin teased, tickling your waist, “I hope you’re prepared.”
And you were prepared, alright. All of the trials, tribulations, and the joys of marriage, you were ready for all of it as long as Hyunjin was by your side.
fin.
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ickymichi · 4 years ago
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𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒!
what’s this?: hcs of the scouts living together!
warnings: like 1 slightly nsfw one mentioned nothing serious, swearing, crack fic, modern au.
note: these hcs r probably the only thing keeping me going sidbsj. so wanted to share them with you guys, might make a more detailed part two who knows n e way, hope you enjoy! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
© k1ttykawa 2021
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first off this house will be the loudest, most chaotic place you’ll ever witness.
like they should have their own reality show.
so who’s in this hell hole?
well we’ve the two trios, eren mikasa & armin and jean connie & sasha.
six people in a house is gonna need a house cleaner to come over twice every week, and that mans name is levi. he usually doesn’t mind his job but when it comes to this house, he questions his life choices.
anyway! yeah what goes down? well let’s go through every room!
first off we’ll start with eren cause :p his room is like every other guys, sports achievement trophies on his shelf’s, signed jerseys hung on the wall and the same checkered sheets that he hasn’t changed in a while.
it’s always somehow always messy.
he does spend a considerable amount of time in their just playing on his play station, probably only comes out to get food.
and ofc he has l.e.d.s 🙄
next is armin! his is so quaint i love it
it just screams armin. books after books along his floor to ceiling book shelf, desk with every stationary you could think of. and is bed is always made and not a spec of dirt on the floor.
doesn’t spend too much time in his room and spends more time downstairs with the others.
mikasa my love <3 when i think of modern au mikasa, i think of goth!mikasa </3
her room is just such a viobe
so many plants!! and tapestries! she reads manga okay idc :( she has so much tho! her fav is romance </3 also has leds and a really funky full length mirror she found at a local store!
jean bo’s room is acc so nice. it has to be for all the girls he brings over
but yeah posters galore of his favourite anime (one piece, naruto, beck, death note etc) manga collector also!
also has his favourite band posters. he really likes posters k? doesn’t like to have plain walls
has those open wardrobe things, as well as an actual wardobe cause he has so much clothes.
and ofc, he got the leds
also he has this big ass tv and plays his music really loud off it.
connie my luuvvv!!
somehow, god only knows, mf got the biggest room when they were picking. really he just got the longest straw
anyway, his room pls, big ass bed, big ass tv, big ass wardobe AND he got a whole en-suite!
jean and eren and soo fcking jealous of his room pls.
he spends a lot of time on the play station with eren and jean. loves that he can hear eren screaming through his headphones and down the hall.
he also is a manga fanatic! but doesn’t have as much as jean yet! also don’t tell jean, but he stole a few volumes of bleach and he’s waiting for the day he noticed
also has his favourite artists and anime posters, won this really cool rengoku figure that he has in a glass case with his luffy and sukuna figures. yes, he loves collecting things.
as well as that he has an alcohol stand that has just bottles of beer to the most expensive tequila.
he has this speaker that quite literally shakes the floor and never doesn’t have music playing. even if it’s 2am that things going.
obviously got the leds
sasha </3 her room is just, you’d want to live in it that’s all i can say.
has like three mini fridges, two beside lockers all full of snacks and drinks.
her bed is the comfiest in the whole house, everyone comes into her room just to lay in it for a while.
has this really soft rug that she loves to lie on when watching tv or her laptop.
binges a lot of shows so she doesn’t come out of her room unless she wants to watch it downstairs with the others
got the leds‼️
now that we’ve seen all the bedrooms, what actually goes down in the facility?
connie or jean definitely went viral for those videos like these, they’re always on my fyp and i love it so he makes these like every few nights and they probably look like this:
armin is probably either studying or watching whatever’s on netflix
eren is most likely in his room on the ps or napping. gets annoyed every time connie comes in to record the tiktok -_-
sasha is either in the kitchen making something she saw on tiktok or in her room binging shows
mikasa is probably cleaning her room or a different part of the house or doing her make up/hair with her music v loud ofc <3
and jean and connie are either in each others rooms or fixing jeans car that keeps breaking down. with vv loud music ofc.
during the day though is like the same except the boys are probably out in the back garden playing basketball while mikasa and sasha watch on the grass catching some rays 😎
music is a reacquiring theme here bc there’s always someone blaring music.
also, jean is always bringing girls home from when him and eren go out and sasha n armin will just watch him run upstairs with her like 🧍‍♀️ 🧍 there goes another one
connie is forever scaring anyone and recording it. he has about 10 montages on tiktok of him hiding in a cupboard or even just around the corner and scaring someone. most times it’s jean cause he a scaredy-cat. did it to eren and he gave him a black eye out of ‘reflexes’
they love spending nights together sitting on the couch and watching different movies or just sitting together and talking.
dinner is spent at the table together every night and it’s honestly everyone’s favourite time of the day.
omg cleaner levi who comes to clean twice a week, connie gets on his nerves soo bad pls😭 he’s always asking him questions and being like “yo big man you need a hand?”
jean and connie spend a lot of time in each other’s rooms just sitting on the bed and scrolling through tiktok and sometimes eren joins and though the two won’t admit it, jean and eren love it when he does cause they have suuuch laughs pls i’m talking tears and sore sides.
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muertawrites · 4 years ago
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Two Halves - Chapter One (Zuko x Reader)
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Word Count: 3,700
Author’s Note: I decided to set this a few years after the war, when Zuko is Firelord. I didn’t want to stray too far from what was canon in the series - what with Katara being the only bender left in the Southern Tribe and also trying not to add extra family members because that always feels weird to me - so the reader in this story is a girl from the village who lost her parents to a raid and was essentially adopted into Sokka and Katara’s family; she stayed behind to watch after the tribe when they left to help Aang, and now, as the chief’s surrogate daughter, is arranged to marry the Firelord to help bring the two nations together. Chaos and sweet, tender romance ensues. This is also going to be a mini series! I have no real plot and no idea how long it’s going to be, but that just adds to the fun of it all. Stay tuned.
~ Muerta 
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“You can’t be serious.” 
Sokka, seated beside you, instinctively offers you his hand, which you willingly, eagerly take, gripping it tightly in your lap. You can’t decide if you feel anger or fear; the two mix sourly in your stomach. 
“I am,” Chief Hakoda says. His tone is even, and infuriatingly understanding. It makes you want to scream. “Your presence in the Fire Nation will be key to unite the nations in peace once again. They’ve been closed off from the rest of the world for too long - you’ll be an ambassador for our people.” 
“Then make me an ambassador,” you snap. “Marrying me off to the Firelord is no better than letting him come here and colonize us.” 
Hakoda glowers sternly at you. You shrink back, Sokka giving your hand an assuring squeeze.
“Firelord Zuko has made great strides to restore what his ancestors destroyed in the years since the war,” Hakoda scolds. “He’s an honorable, respectable man. I expect you to treat him as such.” 
You look back up at him, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh. 
“I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” you ask softly. Your voice quivers, revealing the terror behind your rage. 
Hakoda’s expression softens as he stands. He helps you onto your feet, holding you gently at the elbows and looking apologetically into your eyes, one of his hands reaching to brush your hair behind your ear. 
“Just because the war is over, it doesn’t mean the need for sacrifice is,” he tenderly says. “You’ll do great things as the queen of the Fire Nation. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust Zuko to treat you well.” 
In Hakoda’s eyes, you see the man you knew as a child, the man who brought you into his family when you lost your own to a Fire Nation raid. You love him as much as you loved your own father, and know he loves you as much as his flesh and blood children; you trust that he would never put you in harm’s way. 
Hakoda leans forward and kisses your forehead, holding you close for a long moment before letting go, breaking contact with you completely. The pain on his face tears a gaping hole in your heart. 
“You leave in three days,” he tells you. “You’ll be in good hands - I promise.” 
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Though you know it isn’t for the last time, leaving the Southern Water Tribe hurts so much you think it might kill you. 
You cruise across a calm ocean in a Fire Navy ship; luckily Sokka was allowed to come with you as emotional support, as well as to represent the tribe at your wedding. The presence of Zuko’s uncle is also calming to you, despite how little you know him, and how not long ago you would have considered him an enemy. There’s just something about Iroh that makes you feel safe, and you only hope the same holds true when you meet your husband to be. 
“Zuko sent me to ensure your safe passage,” Iroh told you when you first boarded the ship. “Think of me as your guardian spirit.” 
You stand on the deck, basking in the newly warm weather and taking deep breaths of fresh ocean breeze. The peace of the moment helps you lose yourself, forgetting your fate entirely, if only for a moment. 
“How ya feeling?” 
Sokka sidles up next to you, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder. You reach up and curl your fingers around his, sighing.  
“Awful, now that you’re here,” you tease. 
Sokka chuckles. 
“I could still make good on that promise I made when we were kids,” he offers, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into the side of his sturdy, familiar body. “I don’t think Suki or Dad would be really happy about it, though.” 
You let out a huff of laughter, remembering all the times you used to play together before the war brought you closer; you used to have intense crushes on each other, and Sokka always promised that he would marry you when you both got older - plans that changed when you effectively became siblings. You lean your head into his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence.  
“I’m just scared,” you tell him. “I always planned for great adventure in my life, and to help people, but… this doesn’t seem like the right way. It feels like I’m being taken prisoner.” 
“They say that having too many plans for one’s life keeps one from finding their true potential.” 
You turn, meeting Iroh’s gaze as he crosses the deck to where you stand. You part with Sokka and bow respectfully, trying to hide the embarrassment that heats your skin. 
“I apologize, General Iroh,” you greet him. “I didn’t mean any offense.” 
Iroh tuts at you, placing a hand on your shoulder to gently straighten you up. He meets you with a kind gaze and a soft smile. 
“Fear is to be expected, my dear,” he says. “You can’t have a great adventure without also facing a great fear.” 
He turns and peers out across the water, inhaling and releasing a deep, contented sigh. 
“The weather is lovely today,” he notes. “Why don’t we all enjoy it together, with a pot of tea?” 
And so a tea set is brought, along with a table and cushions, and you and Sokka join Iroh as he demonstrates how to brew the perfect pot of jasmine green, generously serving each cup. He toasts to your being together, and you drink heartily, savoring the exquisite taste of his famous tea. 
“I understand how you must feel,” Iroh addresses you once you’ve all settled. “Coming to a strange country, among people responsible for so much of the pain you’ve experienced; you’re exceptionally brave for doing what is best for your people.”
Iroh takes your hand, cradling it between both of his. 
“I am sorry for how my nation - my family - has hurt you,” he says. “My nephew and I only want happiness for you with us, and we will do all we can to ensure it; I give you this vow among his.” 
He squeezes your hand tightly, and you grip back, accepting his promise. You bow again, lowering yourself so that your face is almost level with the deck of the ship. 
“Thank you, General Iroh,” you reply. “Your generosity means everything to me.”
When you sit up, Sokka places a hand at your back, giving you a comforting smile. 
“Zuko’s a good guy,” he assures you. “I really think you’ll learn to like him.” 
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Your arrival in the Fire Nation, much to your surprise, is met with celebration. As your ship pulls into port, army and navy officers in full ceremonial regalia perform displays of their bending, a traditional band playing cheerful, joyous music to welcome you to shore. A procession of military vehicles escorts you through the streets of the capital to the palace, citizens emerging from their homes and businesses to catch a glimpse as your carriage rolls by. The people who manage to see you are elated, if not curious, staring at you with wide eyes and rapt attention; Iroh explains that many of them have never seen a foreigner, as travel to the nation is only just starting to become somewhat commonplace. You’re confronted by the beauty and grandeur of the city - the tall, elegant buildings with their ornate details are far from anything you’ve ever seen in person, even with the rapid development of the Southern Tribe. 
In the palace, you’re immediately whisked away to your own wing, your quarters designated to a set of quaint buildings circling a scenic courtyard. Tradition dictates that, from the time of your engagement, you aren’t allowed to see the man you’re meant to marry until you’re both at the alter; the first few days of your time in the Fire Nation are spent in seclusion, resting off the fatigue of travel and acquainting yourself with the new culture you must now call your own. Though you have to keep your distance, you’re relieved when, on your first morning in the palace, you find a letter on your doorstep, scrawled in a refined, graceful hand and addressed from the Firelord himself. 
Hello, it says, Zuko here.
I wish I could introduce myself in person, but unfortunately, this will have to do for now. Sokka has told me much about you in the years we’ve known each other, and he always speaks of you highly. My uncle is also already enamored with you, and tells me he already considers you family, so I hope this brings as much comfort to you as it does to me. I don’t think I could have chosen a better woman to rule at my side. 
I have to admit that I’m nervous about getting married. I still feel like I’m too young, and still just figuring things out. But I guess if I can lead a country and make peace after a hundred years of war, I can have a wife and make her happy. I hope I do make you happy - I hope we can be close friends and lead the nation strongly together, for the better of both our homes. 
Please write to me if you need anything. Sincerely yours, Firelord Zuko. 
The candidity and awkwardness of his writing makes you smile, your mind at ease being able to put a voice to his name. You decide to write him back immediately. 
Hello, Zuko, you write. 
Your letter has already made me feel much better. Your uncle is a very sweet, very wise man, and I’m thankful that you sent him to watch over me - he makes me feel like I already have a little piece of a home and a family here. Meeting the man who raised you, I have faith that you’ll be a good husband to me. 
I’m very scared because, unlike you, I’ve never led a country or had to negotiate peace - getting married is the biggest responsibility I’ve ever had. I want to help people, though, and if I can help people by leading them out of the darkness of war, I’m very happy to do it. It isn’t as terrifying knowing you’re also nervous; I’m glad we can be nervous together. 
Please write to me as much as possible until the wedding. It would be nice to get to know my husband before I marry him. Sincerely yours, the bride.”
For the following days, you and Zuko exchange multiple letters; you have one waiting for you every morning, receive a reply by midday, and end each night wishing him pleasant dreams. You learn that he’s very intelligent and, though quite subdued, has a sense of humor much like your own. He has a passion for weaponry and the art of combat, as well as for storytelling and music (he tells you that dancing has recently been unbanned in the Fire Nation, and wonders if you’ll be able to teach him any Water Tribe dances; you promise to help as much as you can). The more you write to him, the less daunting the idea of your marriage seems, and you find yourself feeling excited by the idea of finally meeting him. 
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The day of your wedding starts early. You’re woken at dawn, fed a breakfast of tea and jook (both prepared by Iroh, and sent on a tray beside a polished wooden box - inside is a traditional hair comb and a note from the old man, explaining that the comb was given to his mother by his father on their wedding day; the gesture sends you to tears), then sent to the palace baths to be buffed  and primed for your wedding attire. 
You’re stripped down and steeped in multiple perfumed liquids, scrubbed with an array of soaps and exfoliants, and washed so thoroughly you think your handlers might have exposed an entirely new layer of skin. They wax every single hair from your body as well; you only attempt to draw the line when they reach your nether area. 
“Please don’t,” you request, firm but not commanding. “I don’t think I’ll need it.” 
The beautician scoffs at you, pushing you back onto the waxing table and forcefully spreading your legs apart. 
“Foolish girl,” she huffs. “Of course you will. Royal marriages must always be consummated on the wedding night - the Firelord will want as many heirs as you can give him, as soon as possible.” 
Her brute words make you sick to your stomach, and as she rips away the hair between your thighs, tears roll down your cheeks from both pain and horror. You want to believe the man who’s been writing to you for the past five days would never force himself onto you in the name of tradition, but it dawns on you once again that you don’t truly know him, and can’t anticipate his actions. 
Once you’ve been wrung out from your time at the bath house, you’re sent back to your sleeping chambers, where you’re pleased to find not only lunch waiting for you, but visitors as well. 
“Katara!” you cry, flying across the room and into her arms. She laughs, hugging you so tightly you can hardly breathe. 
“Oh, I’ve missed you!” Katara cries, whirling you around a few times before setting you back onto your feet. “You already look so beautiful! How do you feel?” 
“I’m terrified,” you tell her, “but so much happier now that you’re here.” 
“Don’t forget me!” 
Aang waves from behind Katara and you shout with glee, greeting him in the same manner you did her. He also crushes himself against you, and when you pull away, you cup his face between your hands. 
“You look older!” you exclaim, squeezing his cheeks. “You grow every time I see you!” 
Aang laughs, pushing your hands away with a pink blush creeping over his nose and ears. 
“I’m a grown man, and the avatar,” he says, teasingly poking your shoulder. “You can’t keep treating me like I’m still twelve.” 
“I can and I will,” you jest, lightly punching him in the stomach. He cackles and puts you in a (gentle) headlock, rubbing his knuckles into your skull to tangle your freshly washed hair. 
“Hey, kids, that’s enough,” Sokka scolds playfully as he enters the room. “Let’s eat, otherwise I’ll be way too tempted by the spread at the reception tonight.” 
Lunch with your siblings is the last moment of relative calm you have before the wedding and its reality truly start to set in. After the meal, Sokka and Aang leave to help Zuko with his own preparations, Katara staying to help you with yours. Your handlers navigate you into your dress, a traditional gown and robes made of many layers of fine silk and embroidered with dragons and native Fire Nation flowers; the train and sleeves fall so far behind you, you worry about tripping or scuffing the fabric. Once you’re dressed, your face is painted white, your features then outlined as if they were being drawn anew into your skin. You hardly recognize yourself once the handlers are finished with you, the anxiety you felt upon learning of your engagement returning with newfound ferocity. 
Katara is the one to style your hair. Keeping with custom, she knots a portion of it atop your head in a tight bun, using the comb Iroh gave you to hold it in place. She then takes the remainder of your hair and braids it into two sections on each side of your face, the way it would be worn in the Water Tribe; she laces each braid with a string of beads from home, crystalline blue totems to ensure happiness and long life hanging at the end of each, contrasting beautifully with your gown. She cries when she steps back to look at you, carefully dabbing at her tears so as not to ruin her own makeup and dress. 
“You’re so gorgeous,” she tells you. “I’m so glad Sokka never married you like he said he would, he would look awful at the alter next to you.” 
You laugh, opening your arms and hugging her tightly, forcing your own tears back for the sake of the effort that’s been put into your costume. 
For the last few minutes before the wedding, you’re alone; you stand outside the doors of the palace’s grand courtyard, flanked on both sides by guards, listening nervously as Iroh (who’s officiating, per his nephew’s request) praises you and recites a poem in your honor. His sentiments are exceedingly affectionate and should move you, but all you can think of is Zuko; what will he think of you? Will he like you as much in person as he did in writing? Was he just pretending to like you for the sake of your union? What if he didn’t think you were pretty? What if, like the beautician said, he forced you to sleep with him tonight, simply because it’s what’s meant to be done? You chew at your nails, biting them so hard that some of them start to bleed. 
Music swells from inside the courtyard, and suddenly the doors before you swing open. You hold your head as high as you can, stepping forward with as much grace as you can manage and beginning to traverse the impossibly long aisle to the wedding altar. You breathe deeply, scanning the group of people standing before it - you see Katara first, and she nods encouragingly, looking like she’s about to cry all over again. Your eyes sweep over to Sokka, standing beside her, and he seems somewhat shocked by your appearance - not that you blame him, seeing as you look like a complete stranger, even to yourself. Iroh gazes at you from the center of the altar, wearing the expression of a proud father that makes you wish Hakoda were there. Aang stands beside Zuko, and you can tell from his face that he was bored by this whole display until you emerged from hiding; you stifle your laughter at his predictable, endearing disposition. 
Finally, your eyes fall on the groom. The first thing you notice is his stare, cutting into you as he watches you approach; his chiseled, angular features have fallen into an awed expression, one that causes a giddy tickle in your chest. He’s tall, slim, with broad shoulders that carry his wedding robes proudly - his clothing matches yours, the only difference being the armored sheath across his chest that signals his status as ruler of the Fire Nation. You’re reminded that his father wore it before him, and a shudder runs through you as you recall all you suffered at his hands; you push it from your mind, climbing the altar steps to stand beside your betrothed. He gently takes your arm, a warm, timid smile breaking across his lips. 
“Spirits,” Iroh addresses the crowd, “we gather before you to join this man, this woman, and our two great nations in a union of peace and prosperity. With your blessing and guidance, their souls will form two halves of a great whole, coming together to foster a new era of love and commitment not just for their people, but for each other. The bride and groom will now recite their vows.” 
Iroh nods towards you, and you lower yourself onto your knees, bowing before the Firelord. You clear your throat, hoping that the entire country doesn’t hear the quiver in your voice. 
“My lord,” you begin, “I give myself to you as completely as I give myself to my tribe. I swear, from this day forward, to walk confidently by your side in all your endeavors, to uphold the honor of our nations and families, and to be a guiding light into the future for every citizen of the Fire Nation. I will be your support, your comfort, and your ally in all aspects of our life together, and will serve you as loyally and dutifully as you serve me.” 
You stand, taking one of the rings that sits upon the altar and slipping it onto Zuko’s finger; his skin is warm, his palms rough, and he shakes as violently as you do. 
“I give you this ring as a symbol of our union, to represent the bond that holds us for all our days.” 
Once you finish, thankful you didn’t stumble over your words or forget them completely, Zuko kneels, mirroring the way you bowed to him. 
“My lady,” he recites, “by my word, I will serve you honorably and affectionately for all our time together. If you should ask for my compassion, I will give it; if you should seek after my heart, I will offer it willingly; and if I should stray from my path, I will follow you back onto it. I vow to you my devotion, and to bring you happiness and freedom. I trust in you the power to lead and govern my people as justly as I do.”
He stands and takes the other ring, delicately placing it as you did his. 
“I give you this ring as a symbol of our union, to represent the bond that holds us for all our days.” 
In most weddings, this would be the moment when the bride and groom embrace each other in a devoted, passionate kiss; instead, Zuko takes your arm and you face the court of respected leaders and diplomats from across the four nations, gripping each other tightly - you hold each other as if you’re the only support the other has to keep standing. Iroh’s typically soft, pleasant voice booms from behind you:
“I present the lord and lady of the great Fire Nation.” 
Everyone in attendance folds onto their hands and knees, bowing as the band once again begins to play. You descend from the altar, your head feeling like it’s floating miles above your body, and exit through the doors you’d been shivering behind only minutes before - this time, with your husband beside you.
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2996-sana · 4 years ago
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Not So Unrequited Love - Jennie
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At 11 on a Friday, Jennie finds herself at Coffee Beanz where her, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé usually meet for their weekly brunch. The quaint little coffee shop that huddled despondent among huge city buildings has cemented itself as their go-to place ever since Jisoo came across it during their freshman year of college. The interior was warm and cheery and always played really good jazz during Fridays which Jennie absolutely loved.
Now professionals with outstanding positions in their own industries, the four girls still haven’t forgotten about the one place that always gave them a bittersweet recollection of their time as broke and stressed college students. Not that they need the weekly trips to the coffee shop to see each other. They all lived in the same apartment complex separated by just a few doors from each other after all. It was just a nice little tradition that reminded them to remain grounded no matter how far they come in their own careers.
This week, the topic at hand over their usual coffee and brunch orders was Jennie’s struggle to find a date.
“Why is this happening to me?” Jennie complains, throwing her hands in the air. “Am I lacking something?”
The three girls rolled their eyes at their best friend. Jennie really did have a flare for the dramatics.
“Jen, you literally have people lining up to date you.” Jisoo reassured while the other two hummed in agreement.
“That’s right,” Rosé says, taking a pause to sip her coffee. “I mean Y/N is literally the living embodiment of that statement.”
Lisa snorts at Rosé’s words. You were Rosé’s childhood best friend and business partner who first crossed paths with Jennie about three years ago during their company launching and was notorious in their friend group for your not so subtle crush on Jennie.
This was not lost on Jennie however. Not at all. Moves were made. These so-called moves could’ve definitely been executed better, Jennie was sure of that, but she appreciated your efforts.
You just weren’t her type.
Jennie grimaced hearing your name. “I-I don’t know, Rosie. Nothing against her or whatever. She’s just not my type is all.”
“You know, Jennie, just because Y/N isn’t the typical person littered with tattoos that you usually go for, doesn’t mean she won’t make good company on a date.”
She wanted to rebut Lisa’s argument but she knew the girl had a point. Looking at her dating history, she was known for being with people – boys and girls – who all looked and acted like their moral compass could use some adjusting. What can she say? She has always been a sucker for someone wild.
You on the other hand could be compared to sunshine. Jennie can’t ever recall seeing you without a smile on your face. It almost seemed like it was the last step in your morning routine before walking out of your house. In Jennie’s eyes, you were too nice. Nicer than Rosé (if you’re on her good side) and that is saying a lot.
“Lisa is right, Jen. Y/N is actually super cool,” Jisoo insisted, remembering the time she bumped into you at an art exhibition. It was there that she discovered that you were one for the arts and had two of your paintings featured that night. She also noticed how people lit up at your presence and appreciated how you commanded the room whenever you began talking. It reminded her of how tough and demanding you were during a meeting she was able to attend that one time she visited Rosé. The impressed faces of your investors were ingrained in Jisoo’s brain. She was convinced you were a whole different person when needed to be.
Jisoo was fond of you. Especially for Jennie. She knew that if Jennie just gave you the time of day, Jennie would be able to look past her perception of you: boring and plain – and discover that you are more than what meets the eye.  
“Yeah, Jen! Give her a chance,” Rosé was sporting a pout, clearly wanting both of her friends to get together.
With her best friends’ eyes on her, all looking like they were expecting the same answer, Jennie sighs in defeat.
Oh, what the hell. Just one date. What could go wrong, right?
“Fine.”
“Wow, we can tell just how excited you are.” Lisa was giggling at Jennie’s pained expression. She was sure Jennie was just overreacting anyway. Lisa actually thought you were cute and 100% dateable.
You were tapping your foot on the wooden floor of your office finishing off some paperwork when your silver-haired best friend slash business partner Rosé entered unannounced, a big smile on her face that was becoming borderline creepy.
“Why do you look like that?”
Rosé began to squeal in excitement complete with jumping up and down. “Jennie wants to go on a date with you!”
The words cause you to come to a halt as your cheeks are suddenly kissed pink, your blush searing through your cheeks.
For a minute Rosé thought her friend’s face was on fire.
“What?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me loud and clear,” Rosé teased. “Anyways, she’s free this Saturday and I did you a favor and called for a reservation at her favorite Italian restaurant by Graves Street under your name. 7PM, don’t be late! Bye!”
That was the last you heard before the girl slammed the doors of your office closed.
As planned, you were sat in one of the tables at Jennie’s restaurant of choice. Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, romantic candles on each table, soft live piano music, and a flagstone tile floor. The restaurant was fancy, that you could tell as you observed from your seat.
You resorted to playing with your fingers as you waited for the girl who has lived in your heart and mind rent free ever since you saw her that evening of your company’s launching. You were twenty minutes early due to the nerves that haven’t left since Rosé informed you of Jennie’s approval of the date. You couldn’t believe Jennie actually agreed to this. Last thing you heard was Jennie’s break up with her designer boyfriend of one year and that she was back on the market. You didn’t think you would be lucky enough to even be a candidate that could potentially bring her off it again.
You shake your head at your thoughts. You were getting way ahead of yourself. For now, you should just focus on getting this date right so that a second one could be on the table.
“Hey, you’re early.”
You cast your eyes upwards to see Jennie plopping down on the seat in front of you and you had to forcefully tear your eyes away from the beauty that finally graced you with her presence. She looked sinfully stunning in her black vintage Chanel dress.
“Oh, um…I-I actually just got here.” you blurted, looking bewildered. “You look beautiful.”
You wanted to hit yourself for such a basic compliment but being there with Jennie was nerve-wracking enough as it was so you cut yourself some slack. Jennie couldn’t help but giggle at how obviously flustered you were.
Cute, she thought. “Thank you, Y/N. I think you look dashing yourself.”  
You felt heat rising to your cheeks and prayed it wasn’t noticeable. Thankfully before you could embarrass herself, a friendly looking waiter approached your table with a menu.
“Are we ready to order ladies?”
Jennie looked to you for confirmation which you answered with a tentative nod.
“I’ll have the poached lobster with butternut squash and chestnuts and…” Jennie threw you a glance from her menu.
“I’ll have the, um, beef tenderloin with the crab salad.” You read the first thing you saw from the menu, the pressure of Jennie looking at you throwing you off. “Thank you.”
“Okay, would that be all ladies?”
“Oh, and two glasses of white house. Thanks.”
As the waiter walked away with their orders, a silence settled over them.
“I know everything seems pretentious but I promise the food is worth it,” Jennie remarked with a teasing smile.
“It’s all good, Jennie. How’s work?” Your smile fades as you notice the girl you so badly wanted to impress was suddenly distracted, her attention everywhere but on you. You tried to see what Jennie was so focused on, following her line of sight.
After a couple moments, you realize that Jennie was focused on a couple eating across from each other a few tables away from you. The boy was studiously bent over his meal while conversing with the girl as she collapsed with helpless giggles. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Jennie’s ex, Kai, having met him during Lisa’s birthday party last year. A big point to also remember was how the dude was literally Rosé’s cousin.
“Jennie?”
Jennie was snapped out her trance, desperately trying to compose herself.
What the fuck was Kai, her ex-boyfriend, doing here with a girl? She wasn’t jealous. Not in Kai’s wildest dreams. She wouldn’t get back together with him even if he was the last option she had left. No, she was annoyed because Kai managed to bag someone before she could. She was Jennie Kim. Why wasn’t she in a disgustingly cute relationship by now? She wanted so badly to curse the boy out until she remembered she was also here for a date with Y/N. Y/N! Right, Y/N.
“Shit, sorry. I just thought I saw someone I knew,” Jennie shrugged. Her tone was apologetic but you could tell she was still distracted.
“It’s okay,” you tried to sound nonchalant, sporting a counterfeit smile, but you could practically feel the uneasy tension in the atmosphere.
You just hoped you could salvage the night.
You weren’t able to. Jennie stayed distracted and uninterested the rest of the night, eyes either glancing at the couple a few tables away or at her phone. She answered your questions with one worded answers and empty laughs and you were left to shift uncomfortably in your seat, grasping your sweaty and nervous hands under the table.
You threw yourself on your bed, screaming into a pillow. You couldn’t digest the defeat you felt. You had one chance to show Jennie you were worth her time and you couldn’t even get it right. You felt traumatized and humiliated. Jennie would have that disaster of a date seared into her brain forever and the thought was ready to pop up and torment you for the rest of your life. You knew the regret would come to you in random moments, demanding to be reexamined again.
No, you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it. You tried your best. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, Jennie was the reason why things didn’t go as planned tonight.
You gave your pillow another scream at the realization. Jennie was uninterested because that’s what she was – uninterested. She obviously didn’t like you enough to be present during the date.
She could’ve at least pretended to be happy to be there, you thought bitterly.
A week after that disaster of a date, you were walking down the street enjoying the only time of the week you had to yourself. Work had been excruciating these past few months as you were in the middle of negotiating with foreign investors and hopefully sealing the deal by next week. The late afternoon sunlight, soft and diffuse, giving way to the strong rays of the day, was doing its job of convincing you that it was gonna be a great day.
You’ve been feeling down ever since the date and you badly needed a day to recuperate and gain back the confidence that you lost. Rosé was nothing short of apologetic when she found out about the disappointing events and reassured you that she, along with Jisoo and Lisa, gave Jennie the scolding she deserved. Although your best friend’s desired reaction was for you to feel better, it just made you more embarrassed knowing that Jennie’s blatant dislike in dating you was known to all of her friends.
Today, it was your mission to forget all about Jennie and that night.
The antique store has been a treasure trove to you. It never failed to give you objects of delight and interest that instantly claimed your attention. Today was no different. Your eyes lit up as you see the old woman, who looked like your typical ahjumma, behind the counter. She wasn’t the kind of old woman you pity with old bones and troubled limbs, but the kind who could still run an entire marathon if given half the chance.
“Ah, Y/N!” the woman exclaimed, “I didn’t see you last week, dear.”
“It has been a nightmare at the company. I’m surprised I’m still walking,” you sighed, making your way to the shelves filled with odd objects.
“Y/N, you should really learn how to take a breather. You’re always at work! No wonder you’re still single,” Nora shook her head, shooting you a look of disapproval.
You laughed as you looked through every rack for some knickknack you wanted to bring home. There was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with aromatic cotton-wool, and between the layers of cotton-wool were little brass figures, hump-necked bulls and peacocks and goblins, delightful to see and handle.
“You don’t need to remind me of my impending doom of living alone for the rest of my life, Nora.”
You let out an involuntary gasp as you spot a teapot fashioned like a china duck before carefully putting it inside your basket. You continued to stare amazed at the different peculiar objects, completely entranced, that you didn’t hear someone walking up beside you.
“Y/N?”
You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice. And not just any voice. You turned around to see Jennie looking at you with the same look of shock on her face. “Jennie?”
She looked down at your basket before giving you a tight-lipped smile. Something akin to an apologetic one.
“I’m… actually really glad I ran into you,” Jennie stammered, head bowed as if ashamed. “I’ve been meaning to apologize about my behavior last Saturday. I was being rude and incons-“
You cut her off with a soft smile, “Jennie, it’s fine. It’s all behind us now. Apology accepted.”
“Ugh, why do you have to be so understanding? I feel like shit,” she groaned, stomping her feet on the ground.
You almost laughed at how genuinely disturbed she seemed but figured you didn’t want to make her more upset.
“Stop beating yourself up for it,” you urged, gently patting her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll have Nora ring this up on the counter. Good seeing you, Jen.”
Before you could walk away from the cat-eyed girl, you feel fingers wrapping itself around your wrist.
“It’s a beautiful day out. Care to spare a couple of hours to spend it with me?”
Jennie wasn’t lying. It really was a beautiful spring day out. Try as you might, your focus was scattered, filled with nervous anticipation. You were afraid you wouldn't be able to hold a conversation while your thoughts danced in infinite directions. Yeah, operation move on from Jennie Kim was not looking too good. Still as you walked with Jennie along the local park, you were determined to move past that and tried to convince yourself that this was nothing but a platonic hang out.
“How’s work been?” Jennie questioned, hands in her coat pockets as her eyes drifted to the kids playing around the field.
“Hard,” you sighed. “We’ve all been hard at work but I’m sure you know that given Rosie never really shuts up about it.”
Jennie laughs and you don’t feel the familiar butterflies you get whenever you heard the melodic sound and you think that maybe you’re finally making progress.
“Yeah, she always makes sure to give us an earful about it.”
“How about you though? The magazine is doing really great. I’ve seen at least a hundred people reading this month’s issue just today,” you exaggerated, wiggling your eyebrows which again brought out a laugh from Jennie.
She playfully nudged your shoulder, “Real funny, but yeah everything is doing really great. Getting Lady Gaga on this month’s issue was a really great move. We have Selena Gomez up next. We bagged a really great exclusive interview.”
You could hear the pride in Jennie’s voice and you knew it was warranted. Being the self-made CEO of her own fashion and lifestyle magazine, Jennie had every right to feel proud. Plus, it wasn’t easy pulling off having such A list celebrities to feature in your magazine.
“That’s really amazing, Jen. You should be proud of yourself. It’s only going up from here, I know it. I’m rooting for you,” you quipped.
Jennie shot you her famous gummy smile before letting out a whispered thank you.
As the both of you observed your surroundings, you realize you reached the pier.
“It’s getting pretty dark. Should you head home now?” you ask while taking in the beauty of the pier at night.
The pier was a permanent fun fair; bumper cars, the hall of mirrors, the ghost train, a loop-the-loop roller coaster and the big wheel. Waves playfully splashing below, gentle salty breeze, smoothies, burgers, donuts and cotton candy.
Jennie was equally taken by the bustling fair, shaking her head. “I think I can stay a little while longer.”
You broke out into a smile, holding out your hand. “Come on then!”
You dragged Jennie to the end of the dock before sitting down on the edge and beckoning her to do the same. When you tilted your head upward, you could see clearly millions of bright stars dotted on the black canvas of the night.
“It’s so beautiful,” Jennie mused.
“The pier is most beautiful at night. It never fails to shove aside the worries corrupting my mind even for a couple hours,” you smiled.
“Do you come here often?”
You snorted, “Are you flirting, Miss Kim?”
Jennie gasps before throwing her head backwards, erupting into laughter. “You know what I mean, Y/N! Also, what if I was?”
You decided to ignore the last part, suppressing the tingling feeling spreading throughout your body, “I used to come up a lot when Rosé and I were still struggling with the company.”
You could feel Jennie’s stare burning right through you.
“Tell me more about you, Y/N.”
Hours later, Jennie laid on her queen-size bed staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t shake the giddy state her night with you left her in. Spending time with you was filled with meaningful conversations and playful (and a little bit flirty) banter. Things with you felt natural and refreshing, like a breath of fresh air from the cocky and overconfident types she was used to going on dates with. Was this what she was missing out on when she decided to act like a complete imbecile on your date?
She couldn’t help the smile making its way to her face as she remembered the events of tonight. She felt light and warm and basically everything good in the world balled up into one. She felt like a high schooler with a crush. The thought of seeing you again tingled through her like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in her toes.
She was crushing hard.
So, when Jennie found out that Rosé was throwing a big party for her birthday next week, all she could think about was seeing you, talking to you, and maybe stealing a kiss. She was convinced she was just floating through her way on the days leading up to Rosé’s party.
The party was electric just as Jennie expected. Everyone was feeding off of each other’s smiles and fast dancing. She was in one of the lounge couches chatting with her friends sipping on a rum runner as she tried to look past the sweaty dancing bodies with the mission of spotting you.
“Jendeukie, you seem distracted!” Jisoo yelled through the music.
Jennie chuckled, feeling a blush form on her cheeks. Thankfully, the glow from consuming one or two glasses of alcoholic drinks successfully masked it.
“Excuse me for a sec,” she announced as she got up and made her way to the kitchen.
“Jen!”
She cringed as she realized who the voice belonged to. She almost forgot Kai was Rosé’s cousin and was most likely invited to the party.
“Kai, hey…” she sighed.
She was annoyed that the boy had interrupted her attempt to find you, plus she really wasn’t in the mood for small talk with an ex.
“You look ravishing tonight,” Kai smirked, reaching out for Jennie.
She quickly dodged Kai’s advances and whooshed past him, leaving the boy confused in her wake.
“Nice seeing you but I gotta go!”
She breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped her lame excuse of an ex-boyfriend but the relief was short-lived as her eyes found the scene not a couple feet away from her. You were by the sliding door that lead to Rosé’s poolside talking to some woman who was clearly interested in you, judging by the way she was caressing your arm up and down with her ugly wicked fingers. The woman started laughing and she knew you probably said something stupidly funny, reminding her of how much you made her laugh last week. This time though, Jennie was not on the receiving end of your witty remarks and she didn’t know how to feel about it.
This was probably how you felt that night when Jennie ignored your whole existence just to stare all night at her ex. Jennie felt disappointment bubble inside her as she finally decided to tear her gaze away from you and the girl. She sighed as she accepted the fact that you were done with her. Why wouldn’t you be? Did she really expect you to pine over her for years and then come crawling back just because of one night where Jennie did the bare minimum and was a decent human being to you?
Dejected, she takes a break from the loud and busy party downstairs and made her way to the upstairs balcony. The balcony was a concrete ledge with square rough edges but it quickly became an oasis to Jennie as she found comfort in the silence.
“Hey there, stranger.”
Jennie turned her head so fast she swore she almost had whiplash.
“Y/N?”
You grinned as you joined her near the railings, “The one and only. What are you doing here?”
Jennie shrugged off the bitter feeling of seeing you flirting with another girl and forced out a smile, “Needed some fresh air. How about you? You seemed really busy downstairs.”
You raise an eyebrow at Jennie’s icy tone, narrowing your eyes at the girl. What was she on about?
At your (admittedly adorable) confused look, Jennie sighed as she explained.
“You were busy chatting up a girl downstairs, were you not?”
“Careful,” you teased. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
Expecting a defensive reply, you were surprised to find the girl fiddling with her hands. “Jennie?”
You saw as Jennie struggled, clenching and unclenching her jaw, eyes closed in frustration.
“I…I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight,” she lamented, finally opening her eyes to meet yours.
“For some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you. That night at the pier…” she went on, “I realized how stupid I was for not paying attention to you sooner. This amazing person right under my fucking nose the whole time. God, I could’ve saved us both a crapload of time if I weren’t so dumb.”
To say you weren’t expecting this was an understatement. Was Jennie Kim confessing to you? You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“No use thinking about what could’ve happened if you did this or that,” you stared seriously at the girl in front of you. “Um, I’m right here now, aren’t I?”
You tried to laugh but it came out strained. You still couldn’t believe what was happening.
“So, the girl downstairs?”
“Literally just met her tonight. She’s cool. Didn’t really pay any mind to her to be honest,” you smiled.
“Good,” Jennie hummed, satisfied with your answer. “I meant what I said by the way. I’d really like to start over.”
Before you could come up with a reply, soft plump limps planted itself on your cheek.
“If you’ll have me,” Jennie whispers against your cheek.
 •
“Ugh, today was so stressful!” Jennie agonized as she plopped down on the soft cushion of your sofa. Immediately, her body finds itself entangled with yours. This, Jennie knew, was all she needed after a long day.
“Tell me about it then baby,” you started running your fingers through her messy curls while your free hand intertwined your hands together.
“First, the AC in my office broke down and I was sweating buckets half the day since the repair team didn’t arrive until 2PM,” Jennie revealed, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “To make things worse, my beautiful girlfriend wasn’t able to visit me because she had a meeting come up last minute.”
You giggled hearing your girlfriend’s words, “Clingy.”
Jennie breaks away from your hold, a wild look on her face. “How dare you! Is it a crime that I’m desperately in love with you and wanted to see you during my lunch break?”
“I’m kidding,” you chuckled. “You know I would’ve loved to see your pretty face today.”
“You better be,” Jennie taunted. “I love you.”
...
“Hey Jen?”
“Hm?”
“Remember two years ago on our first date you ignored me the whole time to glare at your ex-boyfriend?”
Your soft laugh filled them room as Jennie groaned, hitting you square on the stomach, “Don’t you dare bring that up. I don’t even wanna imagine not being with you. Just the thought makes me wanna puke.”
You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s dramatics, “Good thing you don’t have to ever live through that then.” hi:) i accept requests now
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soulwillower · 4 years ago
Text
boyfriend stuff • richie tozier
(richie tozier x reader)      
requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE
warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited
[losers + reader are in college]
sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!
6k words yowza
"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again  kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.  
"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.
you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.
you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?
"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.
"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."
"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.
this boy was ridiculous.
he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.
he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 
"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."
you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"
he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.
"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"
"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal."  he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."
you fake a gag.
x
somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street.  you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.
the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.
"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.
"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.
his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.
richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.
"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."
he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.
"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.
you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.
you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.
"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.
"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"
he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.
"let's do this, y/n/n."
x
you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.
his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.
then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.
you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.
and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.
throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.
you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.
but here, at home...
god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.
he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.
the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.
x
it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.
you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.
"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.
"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.
"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.
speak of the devil and he shall appear.
"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."
you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.
he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines,  "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.
"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."
"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."
you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.
richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.
x
the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.
earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.
"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.
you just really, really liked richie.
shit.
so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.
"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."
you nudge him, "speak for yourself."
richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."
you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"
she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.
"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.
"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.
oh.
you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together.  you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.
"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.
it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change. 
"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.
you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom. 
the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.
without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.
you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.
"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot. 
"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.
"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.
"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again
"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you. 
you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.
and to want more.
"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.
but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.
"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.
"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.
richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries. 
his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room. 
"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.
and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-
"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.
you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?
munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her. 
richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.
"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."
richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.
it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school. 
your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.
you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.
you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark. 
"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.
you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly. 
x
when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.
 after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.
"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.
"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward. 
he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."
you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.
"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.
"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.
he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?
he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.  
you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.
"of course you do, rich, but we-"
the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.
why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.
so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.
holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.
just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it. 
you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.
he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.  
you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you. 
yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.
“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink,  your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie.  as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"
"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.  
he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?
your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.
your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.
"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.
right. it was for practice.
he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“
you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle. 
your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.
"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.
when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."
you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."
he rocks back on his heels. 
"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"
you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.
"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."
you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving. 
"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.
"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.
"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."
you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."
he kisses you, then.
it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.
"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."
"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.
//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman​ @diorbubs @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\
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kiirokero · 4 years ago
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Selcouth (KNJ)
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Selcouth: Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous. Old English.
Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!
Masterlist
Pairing: CarMechanic!Namjoon x Writer!Reader
Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst, but a happy ending :)
Note: I stg this Aquafina water be hittin’ different nowadays
Summary: Having your car break down? Sucks. Having your car break down in an unfamiliar town after losing basically everything? Yeah, that really sucks. Hopefully, the smartest mechanic in town can get you back on the road quickly.
Word Count: 3.6k
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“W-What do you mean you’re letting me go?”
        “I mean that you’re fired, Y/n, but I wanted to put it in a nicer way,” Your boss explained, releasing a sigh. “B-But why?” You sputtered out, “Mr. Choi, you know I need this writing job... No other position is open the city...” You begged, having the smallest of hope that he would reconsider. “I know Ms. L/n, but the company is going under, even if you stay I can’t pay you,” Mr. Choi groaned, one of his palms resting on his face. 
      You felt like crying. Ever since you were little, you dreamed of being a writer and sharing stories with others. When you got older, that dream changed to wanting people around the world to read what you wrote, so why not write articles for newsletter companies?
      It was difficult. The city you lived in was full of competition for every job you could name. Office workers, technicians, writers. But you had nowhere else to go. You moved away from home for this. Your family sorta cut ties with you shortly after, never really caring for you in a parental way... They were just there. So you needed to succeed. You needed this job. 
And now that was all gone. 
      So you went home, searched up writing jobs in a 50-mile radius, packed your things, got in your car, and started driving. In the next city over there was a new newsletter company getting started and they were looking for writers. It was just the thing you needed. Maybe this was the universe telling you that you needed a change of pace. That you needed a new routine, a second chance to start over and make life your bitch.
     The blur of lush, green trees whooshed past your car windows as you kept your eyes on the coarse road in front of you. The rhythmic hum of the machine you were operating was the only sound you could hear. You had a music playlist, but after an hour and a half, it got more irritating than relaxing. So you sat in silence, mind blank, as you ran on auto-pilot. 
Until your car made an odd sputter. 
     Creasing your eyebrows, you looked at the dials on your dashboard, waiting for any warning light to shine, but none did. You shrugged it off, still feeling slightly uneasy, but trusting your old machine to safely get you to your destination. Besides, there's nothing out here. It has to. 
      Nothing happened for another half-hour. Just the same methodical vroom of your tires on the road and whoosh of your air conditioning vents. You were just thinking about turning on the radio to whatever channel reached out here when... Sputter... Sputter. 
      Twice now, your car sputtered twice now. “God, please don’t do this,” You groaned to yourself, praying to whatever miracle maker was in the sky that your car wouldn’t break down on an obscure road with no big commune around for miles. Sputter... Sputtt... Sputter... It was getting worse now, but being the stubborn person you were, you refused to believe that the car you had since teenage hood was finally giving out on you. 
Sputter... Sputter... Sput... put... pu.. tttt...
      Sighing, you pulled over to the side of the road with what little acceleration you had left on your- now dead- car. You sat there in the driver seat for a second, gathering your scattered thoughts, blinking back your tears of frustration. “I can’t believe this,” You whispered to the quiet air in the car. You hit your steering wheel in anger, immediately regretting it when the sting of the hit hurt your hand in turn. Curse you Newton and your 3rd law.
      Pulling out your phone from your backpack that laid in the passenger seat, you looked up mechanics you could call. Surprisingly, there was a tiny village not too far from here, only 2 miles, that had a mechanic. Bangtan Village. “Huh,” You murmured, “Never heard of it,” 
      You’ve never heard of Bangtan Village before. Then again, you’ve never went traveling around these parts either. You were always confined to the big cities for work, so it wasn’t a mind blowing revelation that there was possibly a village out here.
     Dialing the number listed, the phone rung a few times before the voice of a man answered. “Hello Kim’s Car Repair, how may I help you?” His voice sounded very warm and friendly. The soothing tone called down your panicking heart, and for that you were grateful.
“Hey, um, my car broke down, do you do towing?” You asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers.
“Yes we do! Do you know where you are?”
      You told him what road you were on and approximately how close to town you were and he reassured you that he would get to you soon. So you had no choice but to wait.
      20 minutes later, the rumble of the tow truck caught your attention. A tall man, about 6 foot, stepped out of the truck and gave you a dimpled smile. He had tan skin and gold brunette hair that was dirtied by what looked to be the black residue that comes from working on cars. His brown eyes crinkled endearingly and he was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo. He looked like the type of man who starred in a romance drama.
      “Hello! I assume your the Y/n I spoke to on the phone?” He asked, walking up to stand in front of me. For a man so tall, his height was comforting in a friendly giant way rather than intimidating. “Yeah, that’s me,” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m Namjoon,” He said, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” You smiled, thinking that his hands were calloused from the work he did, but they were also a tough sort of soft.
      “Okay, so the plan is to tow your car back to my shop, see what’s up with it, then get you back on the road,” Namjoon explained, smile never slipping off of his face.
“Sounds good, Namjoon,” You smiled back.
      Namjoon hooked up your car to the truck as you sat in the front passenger's seat, watching him do his work smoothly, like a true professional. Once Namjoon was done, he got back in the truck, “Ready?” He asked. “Ready!” You firmly nodded. “Let’s go then” Namjoon grinned.
      The drive was smooth and somewhat quiet. The two of you talked here and there. About where you were going, your profession, his profession. Just very basic small talk. Before you knew it, you were in the quaint tiny village of Bangtan. Everything was spotless. The streets were free of litter, murals were painted on store walls, people were chatting friendly on the sidewalk. It was an enormous difference from the dirty, tagged, unfriendly streets of the city. It was a pleasant sight to see, a soul-cleansing image.
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      Soon, Namjoon had your car in the shop and was inspecting it in no time. Already getting down to the problem while you waited anxiously waited for a verdict. “Well, I have good news and bad news,” Namjoon sighed, wiping off his dirtied hands on a hand towel. “Tell me the bad news first,” You said, grimly expecting the worst. “Okay, so, it’s a problem with your engine that will take at least a week to fix minimum.” He sighed, a sad smile on his face. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “But the good news is! You’re in Bangtan!” He said, giving you jazz hands.
“What do you mean?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Everyone here is friendly, and I know you don’t exactly have a place to go, but I’m sure someone would be willing to house you” He shrugged.
“Namjoon, I don’t have the money to pay a rent.” You sighed.
“Then you can stay here! Free of charge! Consider it a few add on to me fixing your car,” He smiled.
      You felt a little better at that. You would have a place to stay, and it wouldn’t cost you a thing. Thinking about how much money was in your savings account, you felt like angels were singing at Namjoon’s suggestion. “Really?” You asked, eyes lit up in hope. “Of course. I’m not going to kick you out on the street,” He chuckled, giving you that same adorable dimpled smile. “Thank you so much, Namjoon. I’ll make it up to you!” You grinned, bouncing in excitement. “No need, I’m just glad to help.”
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      Namjoon lived on the second floor of his shop. It was a small apartment, an open living room-kitchen plan with amazing natural light. His apartment was full of plants. Flowers, mini trees, elephant leaves. He even had a beautiful bonsai that obviously got a lot of care. “Your place is nice.” You complimented genuinely, smiling at the little things spread around the room. He had a Ryan cushion on his couch, a bookshelf full of classics, and solar powered toys in the window. The ones that bobble back and forth. “Thank you,” Namjoon chuckled, scratching the back of his neck while the two of you took off your shoes. “It’s a bit messy, but it’s home,” He said, leading you through the apartment to his small guest bedroom.
      “Here it is!” Namjoon said, leaning his head against the doorway. “Thank you again, Namjoon. I’ll be sure to be the best temporary roommate ever!” You promised. Namjoon laughed, patting you on the back with his large hand. “Just don’t murder me in my sleep and we’ll be fine,” He said, and you snorted. “Have you seen yourself? You could snap me like a twig,” You chuckled, gesturing to his sculpted arms that he no doubt got from his rigorous line of work. “I’d never,” He smirked, giving you a wink that made your heart flutter and cheeks heat up.
      You nervously chuckled, looking away from him to look around the room a bit, dropping your backpack off on the bed. “I’ll let you get settled, I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” Namjoon said, giving you a little wave goodbye as he closed the door, giving you some privacy. Sighing, you flopped on the soft white bed and let out a groan at how good it felt to lie down after driving for so long. You didn’t realize just how tired you were until you drifted off to sleep, letting the sweet shackles of your subconscious lock you in a state of rest.
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      “So you’re telling me, that you had to write an article about animal genitalia? And ducks have corkscrew penises?” Namjoon laughed from under the car he was working on. “Yeah, and let me tell you whatever FBI agent is assigned to watching my internet history has quit by now,” You joked, laughing along with the man who has been your roommate for the past 4 days. “Wow, that sounds... interesting,” Namjoon chuckled, rolling out from under the car and sitting up straight to look at you. “Quite,” You answered back, handing him his hand towel so he could clean off his oily hands. “Hey um, I have a weird question to ask,” Namjoon said, grabbing your attention.
      Quirking your head to the side, you raised your eyebrows, “What’s up? Nothing can be weirder than a duck's dick.” You giggled, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “Would you... like to go out for dinner? There’s this nice restaurant in town that I think you’d like,” You asked nervously, his pitch gradually increasing as he got more anxious. You internally giggled at the fact that he was nervous at asking you to dinner, but smiled at him nonetheless. “That sounds nice. Are we going tonight?” You inquired, leaning on the edge of your seat. “Um, we can... if you’d like too...” He shrugged, fiddling with his grease stained hand towel. “I’d love to,”
      Namjoon’s smiled widened as he stood up to put away his tools. “Great! Um, we can go at 6?” He offered, and you have him a nod. “6 sounds good,” You answered, standing up to go and get ready. “I’ll be waiting.” You smiled, leaving Namjoon swooning as he gave you a look of admiration. “Yeah, yeah I’ll see you soon,” He smiled back, giving you a little wave as you walked out of his shop, running upstairs to pick out the nicest outfit you had from the limited clothes you brought with you that aren’t packed in boxes.
      Soon you picked out a cute skirt and sweater, modeling them in the mirror. Once you were satisfied with the way you looked and didn’t look like you crawled right out of bed, you checked the time. 5:45. You had a bit of time left before you left, so you sat down on the couch for a bit. Once you got out there, you couldn’t help but pick up one of Namjoon’s books that were lying around to help pass the time. 
      The Catcher in the Rye. A classic. Everyone in their senior year of highschool has probably read this book, willingly or not. The sheer amount of angst in this book would seemingly drive reader away, but it does the opposite. “I see you’ve found one of my favorites,” Namjoon chuckled from the doorway, pulling you out of the world in the book. “I have a feeling all the books on those shelves are your favorites” You teased, closing the hard cover and placing the book down on the coffee table. 
      “Maybe, but I’ve been on a Pride and Prejudice kick lately,” He chuckled, looking over to the bookshelves he had in his living room. “Really? For the dramatic love story or the social critiques?” You asked, but Namjoon didn’t answer right away. He just looked deep into your eyes, something that resembled longing swirling in the brown weaves of his irises. “The love story,” He spoke softly, not daring to take his eyes off of you. 
      Namjoon looked at you like you were a star in the sky and he was the moon, longing to hold your light in the palms of his hands and never let go. Like he wanted to take you on his personal nature walks and talk to you about all the different flora he’s identified on the trails. Like he wanted you there, 24/7, while he worked on the cars in his garage. Working was a lot less lonely when you had someone to tell you about the anatomy of animal genitalia for an article they were writing that was totally scientific. But Namjoon knew that tomorrow he would have to deliver the news that your car was in working order again. 
And then you would leave him...
      “Let’s go,” Namjoon whispered, giving you his classic dimpled smile that made your heart swoon every time he flashed one at you. Nodding, you got up from the couch and followed him out the door, taking a walk through the village, waving to a few people that you’ve briefly met, and arriving at the small bistro that was situated on a street corner. 
      The inside of the restaurant smell heavenly and made your already empty stomach growl in anticipation. “Hungry?” Namjoon teased with a smile. “Extremely,” You dramatically sighed back, chucking along with him. “Well then, let’s eat, shall we?” 
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      “Alright, I know you said you get your money’s worth here, Namjoon. But this sandwich is huge,” You stressed, looking at the thick one foot sub that laid ominously on the ceramic plate in front of you. “You can always save it for later,” He suggested, taking a bite into his own, 6-inch, sandwich. He groaned in delight at the taste. “I love food,” He sighed. “Well, you kinda need it to live, Joon,” You chuckled, taking a bite of your own sandwich.
      Namjoon paused mid bite, looking up at you with wide eyes as you eyed the sandwich currently in your hands, trying to figure out how they made sandwiches that tasted like Gods ambrosia. “J-Joon?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his stunned expression. “Oh, sorry, was that not okay? I won’t say it again,” “N-No! I just, I liked it is all,” Namjoon interrupted, stumbling over his words while he examined the sandwich in his hands like you had been doing moments before. 
     You chuckled, “Well Joon, I saw that you ate my mozzarella sticks,” You playfully scolded, giving him an unimpressed face. “What? You left them in the fridge for too long,” He argued back with a smile while you took another bite of your sandwich. “Mmhmm,” You hummed, chuckling to yourself. “I um, have some good news,” Namjoon spoke up after a beat of silence. 
      You raised your eyebrows, signaling him to continue what he was saying. “Your car should be ready to go tomorrow,” He mumbled, and you stopped chewing. Swallowing-more like gulping-you let out a deep breath that you were unconsciously holding. “O-oh? Is that so?” You said, feeling a tad bit disappointed now that you didn’t have an excuse to stay. 
     Namjoon nodded, fiddling with his sandwich. “Yeah, um, I got it fixed up. All good now,” He coughed, feeling unhappy about the thought of you leaving. “That’s good... Thank you Namjoon,” You said back, truly meaning the words, but not having the excitement to put behind them. 
      The two of you continued to eat and chat with this air of uneasiness around you. Neither one of you talking about the possibility of you leaving tomorrow, continuing your journey and forgetting about the adventures you had here. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to do. On one hand, you had gotten so used to Namjoon and his presence that being without him would be a hard pill to swallow. But on the other hand, you knew that moving to the city where you could get a job was the safer, and more financially wise, option for you. You were stuck between your happiness and your routine normality that you have gotten used to having. 
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      You looked at your now fully packed backpack in contempt. The feeling of dread that you got about leaving Bangtan village only increased as the day went on and you prepared for the journey to the next city over. You didn’t want to go, but could you truly stay? What would you do? What would be your source of income? You didn’t know, and not knowing this made you feel anxious. 
      “Are you ready to go?” Namjoon asked you from the doorway. You looked up at him into his golden amber eyes, not saying anything just yet. You thought about the time you shared with Namjoon. The movie nights, dinners, the time in his shop. All seemingly small and domestic things you never thought about in the moment, but now that you're here getting ready to say goodbye to it all, you weren’t ready to. 
      But you didn’t have a choice. Namjoon wasn’t going to let you live with him forever and you didn’t know if anybody in the town needed a writer for anything, so you had to toughen up and say goodbye with tears stinging in your eyes. “Y-yeah, I guess so,” You mumbled. Namjoon nodded, walking you down to the street where your car was running and waiting. 
      You stood there next to Namjoon for a couple moments. Basking in the comfort of his presence as you took a deep breath and let it out with a weak sigh. “I guess this is goodbye,” You whispered, kicking stones that laid on the sidewalk. “I guess it is,” Namjoon replied, pretending to care about the dirt that forever laid in his nail beds.
      Gathering up all the scattered courage you had, you took a couple steps to your car. You were about ready to opening the driver’s side door when Namjoon called out to you. “Y/n! Wait!” He yelled, as he ran down to your side, putting his hand over yours to stop you from opening the door. “I- Y-yes?” You asked, looking at his fiery, determined eyes. “Stay with me,” He begged quietly.
“What?” You gasped. 
“Stay with me Y/n, here, in the village,” 
“Namjoon, you know I can’t-”
      “Why not? If you’re worried about finding a place to stay, we could live together. I’ll get better at cooking, I promise,” Namjoon wavered, taking your hand fully in his. “Please Y/n, I know we may not know each other that well and you had a plan to move into the city and restart your life but... Can you restart it here? With me?” He begged, confident demeanor slowly slipping away. You were stunned into silence, unable to look away from the man beside you as he gave your hand a squeeze.
      “We can continue to have those movie-nights together. The ones where we watch bad horror films that you still get scared at and hide into my arms to get away from the jumpscares,” He said as the two of you chuckled in harmony. “You can teach me how to cook those amazing dishes of yours... We could even get a puppy in the future...” He whispered to you, gradually getting closer. “Please Y/n. Give me a chance to be your second chance. I promise to take care of you,”
“What about a job?” You asked,
      “There’s this newspaper that the town has, or my friend Jimin knows a publisher that you can reach out to. Maybe you can follow your old dream of becoming an author,” He encouraged as he spoke softly to you. “I know this is sudden, and we don’t know each other all that well, but we can get to know each other,” He finished, eagerly awaiting your answer. 
You didn’t have to think twice before nodding your head, wrapping Namjoon in a hug. “You can be my second chance,” 
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mtayl0rr · 4 years ago
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I present to you, my preferred epilogue to “Ruin and Rising”
There stood the remains of an orphanage. Not many dared to venture over to the grounds, especially after hearing the tales of what happened there, and why the building was as dilapidated as it was. All but one young girl, who’s hair faded from red to bright white. She received strange looks, either from the deep bags forming under the eyes, or her fragile state. Maybe even the fact that she was strikingly familiar to some of the residents who heard the tales of Sankta Alina. Yet, nobody questioned when she took the land in as her own and began to rebuild it from the ground up, with the help of friends in high places.
She never spoke to many people, keeping to herself and her work, finally allowing her hair to return to it’s natural white as time passed. Whispers of a dead lover circulated around the quaint town, as rumors flowed as easy as the river in the mouths of the townspeople. But, nobody would ever know the true horrors that kept the girl locked up in the crumbled ruins of the old orphanage.
Time heals everything, but healing Alina Starkov would take more than that.
Each night as the girl closed her eyes, she felt the emptiness of the bed beside her, and the sharp intake of breath that her lover drew as her dagger pierced his skin, claiming his life for the sake of Ravka.
I am become a blade.
Every time her eyelids closed, she was met with the vision of haunting blue eyes, staring up at her without any spark. The girl could feel the blood dripping down her skin from the dagger, warm and bright red. Her throat still felt horace from crying out to him, even as the last strings of life dripped from his body, taking him from her.
But it was not only the tracker that she felt the absence of those lonely nights. The girl found herself aimlessly attempting to tug on the once present tether that connected dark and light. The string that connected her to true balance. Her mind went to pull onto something that wasn’t there. Something that she also killed.
The girl was forever haunted by the look in his quartz eyes- not of a monster, but a beautiful boy, trapped in an eternity that was close to an end. The feeling of sticky tears trailing down her face as the man she once swore to kill laid dying in her arms, asking of her to remember him as Aleksander. A boy with a name, and not a title. The boy who listened too closely and lost everything he had held dear. A boy whose grave would be spat on, if one ever existed. The boy who’s heart now held the blade of her dagger, still stained with the crimson blood of her lover. The man he wanted to be.
Don’t let me be alone.
The dying words of the man who hurt so many, all stemmed from his fear of being alone. Yet now that he was gone, she was truly one half of a whole, for sunlight is worthless without darkness to shine in. Although, there was no light left to prevail.
The darkness never frightened the girl again, even though she had nothing to fight it with.
There were still wars, and from those wars came orphans. The girl turned the ruins of the old Duke’s house, once full of things to be seen and not touched into a place for children to call a home when violence tore through what they once knew. War was inevitable, and the girl knew that all too well.
An oil lantern was always lit to fend off the darkness from those who were still afraid, and the grand piano in the music room was left uncovered, allowing the once hollow halls to be filled with great music. Children sang and laughed, playing around in a manner so unlike the way the girl was raised, along with the boy she once loved. Yet, she knew that she was doing good, and that his death was not forgotten.
Children with no parents to call their own learned the stories of the brave, handsome young boy who sacrificed his life for the good of Ravka. No matter how much it pained the girl to tell, she illustrated the boy’s life nevertheless. She spoke of him as an old friend, whose life was torn away too soon, but for all the right reasons.
The staff and children noticed how in all the tales of the boy she once knew, there were never mentions of the masters of the small science who were ever prevalent. No man who controlled the darkness, or Sankta of the sun. It was an unspoken rule that one was to never ask about the sun summoner, and they all abided by it.
Wealthy and mad, were words spoken about the white haired girl who ran the orphanage. The staff never approved of her. She allowed the students to be too loud, too much money was spent on sugar for tea, coal for winter, and books filled with stories of magic. Why would one go to such lengths to make orphan children happy?
She mostly kept to herself, when not reading to the young students, or discussing matters with the well paid staff. Some say that at nights, they can hear the haunting cries of someone who lost so much, and gained too little. Some well eyes children noticed the small grisha-made dagger that was always tightly nestled in her belt. When a young girl, no older than five, asked about it, the woman simply replied, “It belonged to someone I once knew.”
She never said who, for it pained her to mention the white haired Sankta who died alongside the tracker and Aleksander that night on the fold. The girl who would never come back.
The students learned math and geography, science and art. Tradesmen were brought in from local towns and villages to offer apprenticeships. The new King hoped to abolish the draft in a few years time, and if he succeeded, every Ravkan would need some kind of trade. When the children were tested for Grisha powers, they were allowed to choose whether or not to go to the Little Palace, and they were always welcome back at Keramzin. At night, they were told to keep the young King in their prayers— Korol Rezni, who would keep Ravka strong.
Although the girl was certainly far from nobility, she had friends in higher places. Constantly, gifts marked with the royal seal would arrive, filled to the brim with goods like blankets for warmth, or books to stock the library. The staff noticed the girl smile at the small parchments left alongside the lavish gift, even sometimes allowing a laugh to escape her lips. They never saw her laugh before.
Once a man arrived with a fleet of toy boats that the children launched on the creek in a miniature regatta. The teachers noted that the stranger was young and handsome, with golden hair and hazel eyes, but most definitely odd. He stayed late to dinner and never once removed his gloves. Every winter, during the feast of Sankt Nikolai, a troika would make its way up the snowy road and three Grisha would emerge dressed in furs and thick wool kefta
—red, purple, and blue—their sledge weighed down with presents: figs and apricots soaked in honey, piles of walnut candies, mink-lined gloves, and boots of butter-soft leather. They stayed up late, long after the children had gone to bed,talking and laughing, telling stories, eating pickled plums and roasting lamb sausages over the fire.That first winter, when it was time for her friends to leave, the girl ventured out into the snow to say goodbye, and the stunning raven-haired Squaller handed her another gift. “A blue kefta,” said the math teacher, shaking her head. “What would she do with that?”
“Maybe she knew a Grisha who died,” replied the cook, taking note of the tears that filled the girl's eyes. They did not see the note that read,
You will always be one of us
The girl knew grief, as she spent her days clutching the dagger in her hands, or trying to pull on a tether that had been gone for years now. They couldn’t see the small eclipse necklace that she kept over her heart, under her shirts and away from the world. She never wanted him to be alone.
One day, on the rare occasion that the girl stayed outside of her room for more than what was needed of her, the golden eyed man walked by the small window seat to find her playing with the rays of sun that speckled into the glass, a sympathetic frown forming on his face. At the feeling of his uncovered hand, the girl allowed herself to cry into his arms. She cried over all those she had lost, over the boy whose name was replaced by a title, or her tracker who’s life she took. The tracker that she had wished foolishly would be there beside her.
Time. something that for a small period seemed irrelevant to the girl, eventually healed her. Yet, the scar over her heart never faded.
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myelocin · 5 years ago
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Words | Kuroo Tetsurou
So hello this is my first post and I overdid it, it was meant to be like 200 words lmao but mans had me in my feelings. 
Hope to write more! Happy reading
WC: 1.7k
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Warnings: idk about mentions of parent not present?? idk kinda made it a lil personal but it’s not angst i swear
Genre: FLUFF
-
Kuroo Tetsurou considered himself to be a man of many words. For the longest time he just knew exactly what to say. From his days as a child in his youth, he knew what words to say when he wanted to make Kenma feel motivated. He knew the exact words to string together to get his father to let him have just one more scoop of ice cream for dessert. He was wise with the things he’d say in his days as a captain to his volleyball team that did just the trick to motivate them into taking the set back or winning the game. He was smooth with words, the right sentences always stringing together at the tip of his tongue for that promotion he was aiming for. 
 He knew he was in for a ride when he was reduced into a bumbling mess the second he tried to ask for your number. His stride was confident and his intentions were clear as day.  He was going to ask how your day was doing and then ask for your number. Simple as that. So how could the Kuroo Tetsurou, the most suave man you knew give you the most heart stopping glance and utter out, “How’s your number?” 
 You looked at him and he looked at you. He held his phone out simultaneously as he said it which made the situation a little bit embarrassing, on his end at least.  
“Shit.”  Though, he somehow felt better when you laughed instead of reacting differently. He felt extremely better when you grabbed his phone and entered your number. 
“My day is going well, by the way.” You said as you handed him back his phone. By this time he had well gathered his composure before replying, “That was part of the plan, just to let you know.”
You laughed, “If that makes you feel better, let’s go with that.” He responded by grinning even wider.
-
He thought this wasn’t just the cliche situation where he found himself utterly speechless within your presence because throughout the years he had so much to say. Or just thought of, for the matter.
In the autumn of 2018 where you first moved in together he had so much to say about how this was a milestone in your relationship and that he cannot wait to spend the rest of his days laying and waking up next to you-- but he glanced at you, cheeks red from the cooler wind, one sleeve of your cardigan slipping down, and your fingers drumming against the table where you sat and decided where to put the framed picture of the both of you his words were reduced to the thought that he was home.
In quiet mornings where he’d wake up first and feel you roll over to him and bury yourself in the mass of blankets you’ve gathered throughout the night, his hand itched to write all the adjectives attributed to beautiful, but as you woke up, overgrown bangs messy from moving around, and sleepy smiles stretching against your lips, all he could feel was how warm he was.
You’d constantly ask him where his sharp tongue went. You always found it interesting how a man who could describe the most intricate details retreat in silence when it came to moments when it was just you and him. 
You were standing next to him, slicing the vegetables, as he stood next to you stirring the pot. “How come you’re not using pretty words anymore?”
He scooped a bit of the liquid, blew on it and pushed it towards you, “Taste it.” You leaned forward and sipped, “And pretty words? I still use pretty words, baby.”
“You asked me how was my number.” You deadpanned. “Also, needs more salt.”
He puffed his cheeks and grabbed the salt shaker adding a bit into the pot, “I told you that was on purpose. I wanted to win you over by humor and it worked!”
You smirked and pointed to his  gudetama apron, the one he grabbed because he was absolutely positive it was the one with the periodic table “Like how you bought that on purpose?”
“Oi.”
-
Kuroo Tetsurou swore to heaven and back that he was one smooth son of a bitch. To prove it he didn’t even write down his vows. He was sure he would find the right words to say in the moment. Also, he thought it would be nice if what you heard from him would be as unfiltered as it could get. He could only hope it was smooth too.
He saw the wedding coordinator signal him all the way from the back. He took a deep breath and fiddled with his tie. He looked around and smiled. You both had chosen well. A quaint ceremony on the shores of a quiet island, An arch of flowers in every shade of lilac, pastel yellow, and succulents with him standing at the end of the aisle. He was barefoot, tan slacks slightly rolled up for him to comfortably feel the sand.
Ah, what should I say.
He looked at the entourage slowly coming down the aisle and taking their seats. Kenma took his place as the best man and reached up to pat Kuroo’s shoulder and sent him a smile.
His heart fluttered and he sucked in a breath and looked up. The divinities must have been rejoicing with him because they painted the skies in swirls of tender crimson and soft oranges.
The fairy lights around the mass twinkled in soft yellow. The breeze felt nice.
This is it. I still don’t know what to say.
The slight woosh of the water against sand melted beautifully into the first notes of the song Words, by the Bee Gees as it began to play. An old song he knew your late mother had loved, and in turn you too.
He looked forward as you appeared at the foot of the aisle. You with your kind smile and twinkling eyes. Beautiful.
You snuck a wave at him and signaled for him to wait right there. His grin stretched further as he sent you a wink of his own. You giggled and then he was breathless.
You started walking towards him, the ends of your dress kissing the sand and locked your eyes to his golden ones.
Kuroo thought this was a déjà vu moment of some sort. All of a sudden he was back in the kitchen of the apartment the two of you shared, picture frames of the two of you finally up, and dishes put away. You had told him about the song Words by the Bee Gees and so he grabbed your hand and lead you into the middle of the room slow dancing to the song that brought you the greatest comfort. Kuroo silently watched you hum along to the lyrics and thought you were beautiful. In his mind, he was writing, and re writing over and over again the things he thought about you which was the most beautiful.  
You caught him in his trance and tapped his cheek. “Why are you so smiley, Tetsu?”
“Marry me.”
You buried yourself into his arms and hid your face into his chest. He pulled you tighter against him and continued swaying along to the music.
For a second your heart felt so full, then the next tears were blurring your eyes before sliding down your cheeks. “Where’s my ring, you weirdo?”
You could feel the echo of his laugh against chest as you felt his wet cheek press against your head. His voice sounded muffled and weird, but you felt it. You felt it even if your heart was full.
“Coming right up, baby.”
He held his breath as you finally made it in front of him. He took your hands in his. The song was still playing. Bokuto was probably the one crying and Aakashi was probably the one shushing him. Kuroo didn’t care. All he saw was you. You.
You looked up into the sky as he saw you close your eyes for a brief moment. He knew you were thinking of your mother so he squeezed your hands lightly in his. You looked at him, eyes brimming with love so unspoken yet so heard that he bit his cheek and felt the gentle sting in his eyes.
God, this is really happening. I look so uncool right now.
He always thought weddings happened fairly quickly. But since this was his first and only time standing in this position, he never thought time would slow enough for him to be hyper aware of the thoughts running through his head.
You look so beautiful. How did you pick that dress? It looks so good. Oh my God I’m gonna have children with you. I’m gonna wake up next to you for the rest of my life!!! I get to taste your cooking and give you kisses and shit in the kitchen. I have someone to come home to plus the cats. Thank you for feeding them by the way. My family loves you so much and Kenma even lets you use his league account to play. God this is insane. The flowers look so beautiful with you. This is perfect. This is amazing. This is-
“I love you.”
Your eyes widened at him, and then you smiled, “We haven’t started with the vows yet, Tetsu.”
He looked at you, as surprised as you are, then his eyes softened. “I love you.”
Kuroo Tetsurou was a man of many words, but you learned his love for you was found in the words that had been unspoken. Though it didn’t matter, because you felt it every single time. In every word that he stumbled with, every kiss to the forehead, every snarky remark that you both laugh at anyway, every good morning and goodnight, every squeeze of the hand, and every single time he looked at you.
Your eyes glazed as you looked at him. And in that miniscule, quiet moment you two shared, you let yourself look at him in your own way where he just knew you said your I love you, too.
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a-dorin · 5 years ago
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finding comfort among chaos | ahsoka tano
word count: 500+
warnings: ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of violence, dealing with grief, loss, post order 66
a/n: this takes place a years after order 66, so ashoka is no longer a minor. i cried while writing this because i am still very emotional about the finale, but i hope the fluff helps.
prompt: “would you ever consider writing for ahsoka? like maybe some fluff/comfort post order 66”
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not my gif
never in your life had you prepared for this. never had you prepared for the devastation. the pure, utter, loss. the horrific, awful, executions of your fellow padawans and masters. never had you prepared for the fall of the jedi.
you lost everything that night. you lost your comrades, your fellow padawan companions, and what hurt you the most, your master. plo koon was your jedi master, teaching you the ways of the force, training you to be the best jedi you could ever be.
the moment plo died was the moment that shattered you. it felt as if your heart was torn straight from your chest, the pain unbearable. you lost a part of yourself when that ship crashed. when the flames burned, consuming his body. nothing in the galaxy could ever restore life to the way it was before order 66, and that was the hardest aspect to cope with.
the heavy losses still don’t feel as if they’re real. they weigh heavy in your heart, your denial overriding the logic. even as you sit and hide in your cottage, on the remote planet of dandoran, you feel as if that night was not reality. as if it was some sort of twisted, horrid, nightmare. a nightmare that has continued for three hundred and sixty-five days. a nightmare that will haunt you for the rest of your life.
every single time you hear the shot of a rifle, you panic, instinctively grabbing the nearest object, wielding it as if it was your saber. your prized weapon, another piece of your life, was gone. after you scrambled out of the rubble, you were determined to never pick up your saber ever again.
if the jedi were gone, then how could you complete your training? how could you carry on, wielding a saber when there was no one to guide you? fury consumed you whole as you chucked the saber into the rubble of the temple, hot, angry, tears streaming down your cheeks. maker, it was so unfair. so unfair that you survived while others perished. you were undeserving. you felt that you would’ve been better off dead, fighting with your comrades till your last breath.
after the tragedy of order 66, you ran. you ran as fast as you could, away from the temple. away from the chaos that would ensue. there were many disturbances in the force, an evil spreading across the galaxy at a rapid rate. you needed to get away from it. as soon as possible.
you found dandoran, a quiet, green planet. away from the empire. away from the memories. away from the pain. you changed your name, erasing your past identity. now, you lived in a quaint village, surrounded by kindness of farmers and their families.
you lived a life of simplicity, a florist for the village. your cottage was surrounded by pots of flowers, a garden in the back as well. you took a liking towards the flowers. they promised growth, a new beginning. a new life.
a quiet, soft, knock startled you from your work, weaving flower crowns for bridesmaids in an upcoming wedding. swallowing thickly, you swung open the door, your heart skipping a beat.
ahsoka tano stood before you, tears brimming her wide, clear, blue eyes. a grey cloak draped around her shoulders, her markings still as beautiful as ever. she was older now, her aura haunted. she seemed wiser, and mature. far different from the last time you had seen her last. her lip trembled, her gaze wary, as if you truly did not exist. as if you were an illusion.
“a-ahsoka?” you blinked, “is that really you?”
she nodded, tears streaming down her face, “i-i wasn’t sure if i would really find you. but you’re here, like they said. you’re alive.”
“it’s me,” you nodded, your throat tightening as you choked back a sob, “i survived.”
ahsoka surged forward, wrapping her arms around your frame. sobs racked her body, “you have no idea how happy i am to see you.”
your eyes fluttered closed, inhaling her scent. even if it had been years since the last time you saw her, her scent was still so familiar. like fresh linens, with a trace of wildflowers and honey, a scent you would never forget.
“i missed you too,” you murmured, “more than you know.”
“m-may i come in?” she inquired, her tone wary.
“of course,” you pulled away from her embrace, “come inside, i was just completing a few tasks.”
“i noticed you’ve become a florist,” a giggle rose in ahsoka’s throat, “i never knew you liked flowers that much.”
a blush crept into your cheeks. ever since you met ahsoka, you adored her scent, as you always hinted traces of wildflowers. during your time together as padawans, she was always ringing you flowers, which further developed your feelings for her. she was beautiful, and so kind. if only you had acted on those feelings before. then maybe life would have been different. yet, you couldn’t change the past.
“i figured it would be a good hobby to pursue,” you shrugged, a shy smile plastering your features, “it also gives me purpose.”
ahsoka’s eyes softened, “we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”
nodding, you pulled a chair out for ahsoka to sit, “would you like me to brew some tea?”
“i would love that,” her voice was warm.
as you brewed a kettle of tea, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell, a ripple of happiness rising within you. never had you felt such joy since that day. never had you felt so at ease, so comforted. once you were settled, ashoka began her story, her voice sweet and melodic, like music to your ears.
throughout the night, you found yourself opening up, feeling comfortable around ahsoka. after all, she was like you. a pained, haunted soul, just trying to make it day by day. just trying to find comfort within all of the turmoil.
however, it brought you bliss as a monumental realization crashed into you.
ahsoka tano was your comfort amidst the chaos.
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candychronicles · 4 years ago
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it’s just me // r. tanaka
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A/N: this is my sfw piece for the HQHQ discord secret santa for @ryunosukescutiepie​ ! hope you enjoy!
CHARACTER PAIRING: Tanaka Ryuunosuke x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,649
WARNINGS: just pure fluff
SYNOPSIS: what’s supposed to be a lazy day in bed turns out to be so much more.
the morning started out like any other-Tanaka got up early, placed a gentle kiss on your head and made his way to the door, dressed and ready for the day. he wasn’t always a morning person and you often had to wake him up when you first met him in that measly college dorm. a lot had changed since you first laid eyes on the hot headed bald guy with the biggest heart you had ever seen, but what never changed was his pure love for you. 
once he graduated with his degree in exercise science and started working as a personal trainer, he got better at getting up earlier and earlier, so early that he now needed to start being quiet so that he wouldn’t wake you up in the morning, not that you truly minded, for any time with your love was time well spent, but sleeping in was really nice too.
when he had finally left and you slowly stretched the sleep from your body, you engaged in your own morning routine, cleaning here and there, taking a nice long shower and pampering yourself with a face mask. since it was your day off and Tanaka had what you presumed was a busy day of training and working on his own goals, you planned to spend your time relaxing, maybe reading a good book, maybe napping the day away, maybe finally going through your closet of clothes that was desperately needing cleaned out, but he had other plans.
babe, sent you some money, go get your nails done for me, yeah? treat yourself on your day off :)
you read the text with a small smile, not minding your lazy plans being ruined at all as you quickly hopped up from your bed to get ready for the day, clapping in excitement. it all became a bit of a blur as you rushed around the house, grabbing shoes, your purse, chapstick, sunglasses, anything you could think of that you might need on your trip out. only once were you satisfied did you finally leave, locking the door behind you as you practically skipped your way to the car, humming to your own tune.
the nail salon had your name down already so you didn’t have to wait as they ushered you into a comfy chair, chatting with you about how lovely it was to have such a good man in your life and how lucky you were to find someone so willing to do sweet things like this for you. you blushed and gushed your way through the story of love, talking about the first time he met you and practically ran you over trying to say hi to the time he first told you he liked you, practically screaming it in your face as he was too nervous to be coy about the whole situation. each and every moment you had relived in your head brought you more and more aware to the fact that you were madly and deeply in love with Tanaka Ryuunosuke and there was nothing you could do about it.
after a fresh set of lilac and periwinkle nails, it was off to a boutique store you frequented, Tanaka claiming he had purchased something for you there that he wanted you to pick up to wear to a date tonight. you weren’t sure where the spontaneity came from but you weren’t going to complain as you made your way into the shop, waving hi to the cashier and picking up your item, a stunning yet simple gold dress made with pinched fabric and a soft satin finish. 
it was already almost dinner by the time you finished getting ready, hair set in loose curls, a pretty blush across your face, not only from the makeup but also from the warm giddy feeling that spread from the tips of your toes to across your nose. you had not felt this nervous to see your boyfriend in a long time, preferring to spend your evenings relaxing on the couch, pigging on take out and snuggling in the bed over anything, but this was special and completely out of the blue. you again, weren’t complaining that your relaxing day was getting turned over, but it still made you confused for what prompted such a grandeur adventure.
Tanaka had sent you directions to a quaint restaurant that you two frequented often, saying he had rented out the back gazebo for a private night of wine and dine. your mouth curled up into a smile once again as you had read his text, excited for the night and what was to come as you made your way once again to the car, this time more slow and relaxed as you focused on your breathing and not tripping in your heels. 
the gazebo was beautifully lit with twinkling golden lights that matched the color of your dress, flowers blooming in the grass around the enclosure, roses set in an elegant bouquet off to the side of the table and your handsome lover clean shaven and donned in a tux. you chuckled to yourself as you watched him shoot up from the table, clearly just as nervous as you, before he rushed to your side, babbling about how beautiful you were.
“Ryu, it’s just me, yeah?” you soothed, watching him catch his breath, a blush scorched across his skin. 
“feeling better?” 
when he nodded, you reached forward to place a chaste kiss against his lips, grinning against the kiss as he practically melted in your touch.
he gently guided you to the table, pulled your chair out and scooted you in before rushing to the other side, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at you.
“thanks for coming baby. i-uh, i know this was very last minute but you know i’m spontaneous with my plans sometimes and i just wanted to treat you to a nice dinner so here we are.”
“thank you my love, it’s been a really good day so far. i was surprised and a bit nervous to be honest, but i’m just excited to be able to spend this time with you,” you confessed, twiddling your thumbs under the table to hide your anxiety.
“it’s just me, remember? nothing to be nervous about, at least i hope,” he joked, leaning back against his chair with his own cheeky grin plastered to his face.
the rest of the night went relaxingly, soft music playing from the speakers above, the twinkling lights adding a calm ambience to the scene. food was served hot and fresh, the wine kept flowing and soon you two were just a bit tipsy, not enough to make fools out of yourself but enough that you two felt at ease once more, eased enough that Tanaka felt his confidence flow back into him once again.
“hey, uh, would you stand up? maybe we can dance? i think this is our song.”
you quieted down and perked up, straining to hear the music before you beamed in excitement at recognizing the sweet melody. quickly, you stood up, wobbling on your feet from not only the wine but the heels as well, but Tanaka, steady as ever, grabbed your torso, giving you some purchase in the topsy turvy world.
“you’re always my knight in shining armour, huh?”
“i’m here to save the day, whenever you may need it!” he exclaimed, letting go to give you a thumbs up before placing his hands correctly, one on your waist, the other grasping your own hand to start a gentle sway with you.
you two stood, head against his chest, heartbeat and song blending into one, for what seemed like hours as the song faded away and he pushed you off, just in the slightest. you stared at him in confusion for only a moment before your hands flew to your mouth and tears began glistening in your eyes.
there he kneeled, ring sparkling in the glittery lights, hands outstretched as he looked you square in the eyes, no fear or hesitation to be found.
“i have loved you since the day i first ran into you, and since then, we’ve been running into things head on together. you may think i’m your knight in shining armour but you’re my rock, my home, the person i can go to when nothing in this world seems right because you can and will always keep my safe. i know i can be reckless and people still see me as a punk but you’ve stuck by my side without a single complaint, cleaning me up whenever i get into a mess and setting me straight, forgiving as always. i wish there was more i could say or do to prove that i will always love you, but this is the best i could come up with. so, will you marry me?”
before you had a chance to register what you were doing, you threw yourself down and against him, crying into his arms, telling him ‘yes’ over and over again. he immediately reciprocated, kissing your temple and cradling you, telling you how much he loves you before shakily pulling you back to put the ring on your finger.
“as your knight in shining armour, i promise to protect you from all evil, no matter how big or small.”
“as your rock, i promise to keep you grounded, through thick and thin.”
“does that mean we’re married now?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“not yet, we’ve got to do the whole wedding thing first, Ryu.”
“right, well, lets get on that then! i don’t think i can spend another day not being your husband. what about tomorrow?”
you laughed at his enthusiasm, tears streaming down your face, but as you stared at his own, you realized you didn’t want to spend another day not being his wife either. 
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Land on the Same Shore- Chapter One- A Din Djarin X Reader Story
Author’s Note- Hey y’all this story was inspired by the Tangled AU @pedropascallovebot wrote and I fell in love with it but I also drew a lot of inspiration from the Bioshock videogames as well because there was also some rapunzel vibes with that. (Y/f/c) stands for your favorite color
The title is from the quote: “We swim in different oceans but land on the same shore” from the Bioshock series
Warnings: subtle mentions of abuse, mentions of gaslighting and manipulation
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The Mandalorian wasn’t sure why he accepted the job in the first place, it wasn’t something he’d do, but he figured, a job is a job. A mother had asked him to find her daughter who had run away from home, and the mother sounded frantic to get her back safely. The Mandalorian had a bad feeling about this job, mostly because of the mother. She had worn a deep red, velvety cloak and had deep-set charcoal eyes, she was very pale.
 The mother wore herself as she could be in her sixties but looked like she could be no more than in her thirties. There was an odd aura around the woman and the frantic way she asked for Mando to get her daughter wasn’t in the way a mother would be desperate to see her child safe and well, but as if she was a commodity, a precious treasure that was robbed from her.
Mando shook his head as he carried the fob with him to pick up on the tracker that’s on the daughter, there is no reason to be thinking about that, he had a quarry to pick up. The fob brought him to a quaint looking cantina, it was made of wood and had some intricate carvings on some wooden posts on the inside. When he went inside it was bustling with activity, tables have been moved aside and music playing loudly, while many of the patrons seem to be dancing and singing along to the music. 
In the center of the stage was a beautiful girl in a spaghetti strap, corset dress in a beautiful (y/f/c) but the rest of the dress seemed to be made of loose, tulle that seemed to be ripped and dirtied in some areas. What caught Mando’s eyes was how bright-eyed she was and how happy she seemed to be in this rundown cantina dancing with strangers, doing a country line dance it seemed. The fob seemed to point towards her being the quarry and so he went towards her, but as he seemed to move forward all the music and warmth in the cantina was gone. The girl looked up at him and seemed to cower inwardly and a lot of the men there picked up on what is going on.
“I’m here to take you back to your mother,” Mando stated gruffly. The girl looked around fearfully with tears in her eyes, and one of the men stood in front of her and said, “Why? We won’t let you, it seems to us that she doesn’t want to go back.” Mando sighed and shook his head, he wasn’t being paid enough for this, but before he can push the man out of the way the girl jumped on to one of the benches nearby and yelled, “I have a dream to be able to go see the stars, to have adventures, that is why I went out on my own. I am an adult, I am 25 years old, I just want to see the galaxy! Surely all of you have dreams of your own, even you,” She pointed at Mando. The monologue made the Mandalorian hesitant in multiple ways, one was that the quarry was 25, she is a grown woman, why was the mother being so overprotective, and two no one had ever considered if a Mandalorian had dreams. 
That speech had set off a ripple effect in the cantina with multiple people spewing their life and what their dream was to be, and there seems to be a sort of warmth brought back to the people there. The girl had such kind spirit and seemed to radiate this warm light to those around her, even the Mandalorian feels it. However, Mando had a job to do so he kept walking to the girl and put a hand to her shoulder and said, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way to get you back.” 
There were many people who started to protest, but the girl raised her and shook her head as she tells everyone, “Thank you, everyone, for your kindness and generosity I will remember you, I hope you guys will remember your dreams, maybe I’ll be able to pursue mine another time,” she looks up at him and says more softly, “I will come with you quietly I don’t want to make more of a trouble for anyone then I already have.” He nods and puts the cuffs on her as he leads her out of the cantina.
When he was leading her back to his ship, the Razor Crest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Do you not have any shoes?” Mando asked. She shook her head and replied, “I don’t have many things but what I do have I am reminded to be grateful for what I have every day.”
Moments passed and they reached the cockpit of the Razor Crest and she sat down in the co-pilot’s seat as they took off he punched in the coordinates and spun around to face her. He is going to hate himself for this, he remembers the endless rules and policies that he followed to ensure that each quarry would end up as a successful job, but something about her is making him soft and he doesn’t understand. “If you are a grown woman, why is your mother so protective of you?” The question slipped past his lips and the woman looked up at him. “She does not care about me, only for what I provide her, I am not blind to that but she is afraid that I may be too naive to be out on my own as she is made me quite aware of all the dangers and nightmares of the galaxy. I practically live in a library, that is how I escaped, I learned how to lockpick from reading a book. She keeps locked up in the basement, it is not a dungeon it is spacious and has lots of books to read and paper for me to draw on, but I feel like I have been made to do something much more.” 
Silence fell into a comfortable place between them and the Mandalorian had cocked his head to the side as he listened to her story. He had an urge to help her and not take her back there to her mother. She spoke up again but this time her voice was just above a whisper, “I don’t want to go back to her. She says awful things to me, and she says that she is the only that knows me best and that if I didn’t want to be where I was then I shouldn’t have been born at all,” she pauses and starts to shrink back further back in the chair, “one day she would say she can’t live without me and in the next second say that no one would know if I died in that room. All of her words start to weigh heavy on my mind more than anything else that I know of. Why is that?”
The girl didn’t look up until a hand was placed on her knee and she looked up to see the beskar helmet staring at her, even though she can’t see his face she feels worried energy coming off of him. She lowered her head again and took a shaky breath in to say, “I’m sorry you probably don’t want to hear this. You don’t care, I am sorry to put my worries on you.” There was a pause between them before she heard, “What is your name?”
“My name is (Y/N).”
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marvelatthehottotties · 4 years ago
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James Buchanan Barnes - Chapter 1
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A/N: Thanks for taking a peak at this! Don’t be afraid to give us feed back! Co-written by @keliza​
Prologue Masterpost for the series
Warnings: Second hand embarrassment, bullying, sketchy frat dudes
Words: 3,092
 A college freshman. Once again, the low end of the food chain. The bottom rung. Things tended to cycle like that, so you could stay humble. It was your job to learn from it and realize that there was no such thing as the top of the food chain. There was always going to be someone higher than you whether you realized it or not. The end of elementary school was the high end. Then it was middle school. Then high school. A never ending cycle that continued on. Once you finished college it would be you planting right back into the workforce on the bottom rung, like swimming upstream. 
Everyone was just a salmon, hopping those little waterfalls. The only issue was you were scared to jump every time that jump happened. You could see the waterfalls were so close and everyone was jumping. But you could also see the shadows of those grizzlys looming, waiting with open mouths to crush you and devour you. Bears didn’t care if you were a big or a small fish, which made being a small fish especially hard.
This was an exhausting process, but the fear of being left behind made you jump finally and you were free to swim again, comfortable now that the bridge was crossed. 
And here you were, this waterfall had appeared much faster than you had expected. 
Peter had dragged you to a college party. Apparently, he knew some of the people, which honestly blew you away as the majority of the kids here weren’t kids at all. Everyone here looked like they had credentials, like they were legally allowed to drink, not just kegging to get the alcohol. 
Peter. The scrawny pipsqueak that had grown up next door. The one your mother loved and your father hoped would one day be his son. Peter and you wouldn’t love each other like that. He’d always eyed the popular cheerleader. The perky homecoming queen. And you…. Well you just couldn’t tear yourself away from the fantasy men in your novels. You were rarely attracted to people. Well, real people anyway. The kind you had a chance with.
This battlefield was different. You need to jump this waterfall and just swim on but the anxiety of not knowing anyone was creeping up your throat.
“Excuse me,” an enormous, sculpted man with an accent chirps. He flashes you a flirty smile as he slides around you. In your horror (had your eyes seriously deceived you?), you stumble backward and away from the punch table, careful not to bump into the couple unabashedly making out in the corner. 
The man’s arms rippled as he made a few drinks and quickly returned the way he came, shooting you another overly friendly smile. A horde of drunk girls squealed as he returned to them, passing off the second drink to a dark haired guy nearby and the girls converged like vultures on him. 
You glanced around. The couple nearby wasn’t quite as desperate as the highschool students in their antics. It was softer, looked tastier. You darted your gaze away, feeling like you were intruding. Where was Peter, he’d been in the bathroom an awful long time now.
The pit of nervousness was filling you, sinking harder as it grew in your gut. You looked about for anything familiar, struggling to find something.
The Stark house was something straight out of a magazine. Perfect for the well off lawyer and his family in town. Nothing like your own family home. Soft and quaint, quiet even. This was loud and sharp and modern. It was too cold to be familiar in the way you wanted. It offered no comfort. 
Neither did these older people. Most of them couldn’t be more than five years older but you still managed to feel out of place. Like a child at a PTA meeting. You wanted to go home so badly, but Ned, who’d driven, also seemed to be missing. 
“Looking for a drink?” Someone asked, you glanced, because it was loud enough to hear over the music. You were surprised, however, to see a stranger making direct eye contact. A tall, dark and handsome guy with a crooked nose and an even more crooked smile. It made your gut drop nervously. 
“No, thank you,” you managed, politely. “Just waiting on my friends.” Your hands tighten harshly on your purse strap as the guy steps closer.
“You sure? I’m making one myself, it’s no trouble.”
“That’s kind, but I'm the designated driver, can’t drink,” you lie. The guy gives a shrug at you.
“Are you even old enough? To drive? You look pretty young.” You give a non committal shrug and start glancing around, praying that Ned and Peter would appear. This man was making your skin crawl and you think it might be better to look for an out.
Nearby there are some college guys spinning someone in a desk chair. The kid looked like he was gonna be sick. Plenty of hollering sounds as he does hurl and give a drunken smile after. 
“Ew,” the girl from the couple behind you hisses. So, she’d managed to notice as well. She grabs his hand and drags him away, leaving you with the dark haired guy.
“Brock,” the guy offers, and moves closer. You dance away a bit, uncomfortable with how close he now was. “Hey, sorry. I’m not some bad guy, just making conversation.” He doesn’t step back. Dread is sinking in your gut and you pick anxiously at the sleeve of your sweater.
“I should go look for my friends,” you start, voice dropping to prevent from it shaking. 
The guy takes a step towards you, and you do the only thing you can think of as alarm fills you. You were not well known for being bold. You dart quickly only to knock into someone else so hard you nearly tumble back. You’re terrified as you look up into the face of another man. His eyes are hard as he glances over you quickly, then they dart to the guy directly behind you. 
“Brock,” rolls a voice from the guy who’s hands are now on your waist, steadying you. Despite the casual way he says the name, it’s got a warning to it. “Why are you over here trying to scare girls?” He was helping you? 
“I was just going to come looking for you,” you blurt before he’s even done speaking. Glancing up at this man, hoping he’d roll with your lie and focusing less on the fact that his hands were so warm. He adjusted immediately.
“Steve’s around here somewhere. Sorry for leaving you. Do you want to go sit?” He asks. His hands resting ever so gently on your shoulders now. You nod.
“Ain’t she a little young for you, Barnes?”
“My cousin is none of your business, Rumlow.” Brock looks pissed as he locks his jaw. You grasp the new man’s hand hard and without any hesitation, he leads you toward the stairs. “Let’s get some air on the upstairs patio, kiddo.” 
Kiddo! Kiddo! Your savior thinks he saved a kid! Not a damsel? This was straight out of a romance novel and the lead (who was incredibly handsome) just called you his cousin and kiddo. Oh, but he smelled like motor oil, and that made your toes curl. 
God was cruel.
“I’m eighteen,” you interject as he drags you up the stairs. When he flashes you a smile you catch your toe on a step and nearly die on those stairs. The guy hooks an arm under you to drag you up, however. Your cheeks heat as mortification fills you. But he’s so close…
“Mhmm. Focus on one foot at a time, okay?” 
Kill me.
And you manage to make it up the stairs without too much more trouble. He navigates around the bodies with ease, meandering away. Finally, he arrives out on a balcony with you. A few people linger around. You took a moment to take him in. Hair pulled up in a little bun on the back of his head, a wide jaw, cute nose and cool blue eyes. Not to mention he had grease streaked on his arm. Whatever vehicle he was working on before this, he hadn’t showered between and it gave him a delightful metal smell. Complete with his tattered tee shirt and stained jeans and boots, he looked like he’d rolled right out of a novel. 
“You’re gone five minutes and you’ve already got a girl?” Someone sighs. You snap your eyes to a tall, slim kid who’s lounging on one of the designer patio chairs. He brushes some of his soft blond hair from his eyes.
You were suddenly aware that you were still clinging to this poor man’s hand like my life depended on it. “Ah! Sorry, I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-”
“Relax, doll, you’re okay,” he chirped and lead me over. “This is Steve.”
“Hi, Steve,” You greet meekly. “Thanks for getting me out of there but I should be heading to find my friends Peter and Ned,” You try to excuse.
“Getting her out of there?” Steve repeats, and his awkward expression regresses into a stone cold one.
“Yeah, Rumlow’s ass was harassing her. Meet my cousin. I’m adopting her.” Your cheeks flare. Worse than being friend zoned. I swear. 
“Brock?” Steve repeats, eyes flaring. 
“Sit your ass down, Steve, it’s taken care off. Why don’t you sit down with us?” The last part is directed at you. “Your friends can come find you.” You almost deny it, but your savior… you want to learn more about him.
“I don’t want to intrude,” you offer.
“Non-sense,” Steve calls. “Sit.” You slowly sink down on a patio sofa, your hand relaxed in the guys hold. You notice the twitch of thick muscle beneath his shirt as he moves to settle beside you.
“So, what’s your name?” The cute guy asks.
“(Y/N),” you answer.
“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bucky.” Your heart flutters uncomfortably in your belly. It was rare you reacted this way, but he’d been so kind. When Bucky settles beside you, his knee pressed against yours and you’re so caught up by it you don’t notice the knowing look Steve passes to Bucky. Or the grin that Bucky sends back to him.
“Have you graduated?” Steve asks. 
“Yeah, I start at Avalon College this fall, do you guys go there?” 
“Stevie does, I don’t.” 
The casual conversation ate away at the wild adrenaline that sunk your gut. The nervousness easing in the presence around. Only the bitter awkwardness was gaining on you. 
“So, what do you do?” Bucky glances down at the front of his tee shirt and you catch the name of the local mechanic shop. When he looks back at your embarrassed face, he flashes an amused grin and throws an arm over your shoulder. Being so close to the warmth of him. “Mechanic?” You manage to squeak. How had you not noticed the bright white lettering on his black shirt. It hid the grease stains pretty well. Probably do to his pearly white smile, or his sinful smirk.
He threw an ankle over his lap and twisted. “Yes, ma’am. What are you studying at school?” It felt so intimate how close he was leaning in. 
“Uh, undecided,” you offer. When you glance at Steve, he’s trying to hide his big grin, warm eyes gentle on you. 
“What are you doing at a party like this, it doesn’t seem like your normal scene.” He asks.
“My friends Peter and Ned dragged me with them. I’m usually the third wheel. To be honest they may have forgotten I’m here.” Steve frowns at me. “I guess Peter got invited by Tony earlier this week.”
“They don’t sound like very good friends,” Bucky rumbles, eyes narrowed coldly. It makes you gulp and retreat into the cushions a bit. 
“No! They’re wonderful. They support me as much as I support them. They’re just easily distracted, you know?” Bucky still frowns at this answer and shakes his head.
“And leave you alone long enough that Rumlow starts to follow you.” You shift uncomfortably. 
“You know, I’m going to grab a drink,” Steve offers awkwardly. “Do you want anything? Water? Juice?” He asks you. 
“Uh, juice if they’ve got it,” you reply. He stands and leaves, not bothering with Bucky’s. You try to push the thought behind you. That he’s getting you something non-alcoholic for you. You teeter between grateful, and irritated. Was he doing it because they thought of you as a kid or because he wanted to make sure you weren’t taken advantage of?
You start to squirm away from Bucky a bit, as Steve leaves. “I’m gonna check my phone real quick,” you offer. He gestures for you to go ahead and watches as you drag it from your back pocket. 
“Hey, Bucky!” You hear someone call. Light and airy, like a goddess. You lift your head from the lock screen to see a gorgeous blonde, approaching. Legs looking extra long in her leggings and heels.
“Hey, Lindsey,” You don’t like the twitchy nature she inspires in Bucky. His hand twitches by your shoulder, like he almost dragged it away as he moved to sit up straighter. Apparently he thinks twice about this move and sinks into a more natural position. She’s not even looking at him as she struts toward the chair on the other side of him.
A little voice nags in your head. They have history. You can see in the way he tries to act nonchalant. If you hadn’t seen that nervous (or eager, you can’t quite tell) shift, then you wouldn’t be able to tell. He keeps his voice even and his eyes never waver. You admired him silently for being able to hold his nervousness at bay like this.
“Who’s your little friend?” She smiles sweetly, a perfect facade to her real intentions. You briefly wondered if she was being sincere but the wording made your brain stutter with hesitation.
Bucky took a short intake of breath that you could feel against his shoulder as he switched from lounging next to you, to tucking you against his ribs. His expression chilled to something akin to the one he gave Brock downstairs. “What do you want?” He rumbles, voice still even. Her face flutters a bit, not expecting his reaction.
“Wha- excuse you? I was being polite!”
“No, you’re being passive aggressive. What do you want?” Her expression sours from offence. 
“I came by to talk to you, James,” she hisses the name and it only makes him roll his eyes at her. “Rumlow said she’s your cousin. Looking a little comfortable there to be a cousin.”
“You always listen to what Rumlow says, Linz?” He didn’t bat an eyelash even though you were squirming uncomfortably. She turns her eyes on you, they burn into your soul.
“Can you give us a minute, hon? You’re kind of intruding on a private conversation.” Her hand drifts closer, reaching toward Bucky’s knee.
“Me?” You squeak. You wish it’d been hissed out but your lack of confrontation, shoved you down. Never in your life had you felt so offended. Were there really girls like this still? 
Bucky’s hand tightens over your shoulder and his ankle slips from his knee. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s sitting straighter now as you’re practically crushed to his side. His hand would be more exciting if the pettiness you feel rising in you wasn’t so raw. “Yes, you.”
“No, not her,” Bucky rumbles low. “She’s not going anywhere if she doesn’t want to.” To spite her, you deliberately bite back nervousness and place a hand on his thigh, near his knee. You hope it looks natural enough. You think it does as her hand falls away from where it hung in the air. 
“I don’t want to,” you promise, your voice still soft. You cannot believe you’re being this bold.
“This is between us!”
“She was here first.”
“Fine,” she sighs, and moves. She turns towards Bucky more. It sends a bolt of unease through you. “James, I wanted to talk about getting back together with you. Don’t tell me you don’t want to, too.”
“Lindsey,” he states, and for a moment, you fear he will cave. His arms draw away from you, he leans close to her. “After this, you can go fuck yourself.” He says softly. Too softly. He’s mocking her. A little thrill floats through you. Amazed at how good this felt. She shoots a shocked look at him. Then you. Then she became furious.
“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES! YOU’RE A FUCKING PIG!” She squeals in absolute outrage. As she flies to her feet. He tilts back against the cushions, expression ever cool. You couldn’t read him at all. “I’M SO SICK OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE SHIT! SHE’S LIKE FIFTEEN! THERE IS NO WAY SHE’S FUCKING LEGAL!” She twists towards you and on reflex you snatch up Bucky’s hand and squeeze tight. “Don’t worry, he’ll break your heart and leave you just like the rest of us, sweetie.”
“That’s nice,” you manage to squeak. She fumes, deciding to storm away, you hear her as she flies down the stairs, screeching insults along the way. “Wow,” you whisper to Bucky, flushing from the onlookers. Your savior snorts and bursts into laughter.
“Sorry about her,” he chuckles. “Guess we're even now, kiddo.”
“Does that mean I have to leave now?” You ask.
“No! No, you can stay as long as you want.” He shoots you a beaming smile.
“There won’t be any more exes, right?” You ask, only half joking. The mechanic throws his arm over your shoulder and tugs you against him, ruffling your hair playfully.
“Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’ve got your back. You’re too pure to let anyone bully you but me.” You peek up at your new crush in surprise. 
“Yeah, but wait until the rumor mill gets ahold of the fact that we��re cousins and lovers,” you shoot back.
“Ah, fuck ‘em. Haven’t you heard, incest is in right now.” And his wink flutters your heart even as his words disgust you. This reminds you vaguely of the uncomfortable crush you had as a child on a distant cousin. The crush that you only ever spoke of once to Peter… when you were drunk. This crush would never be more than that, but for now, you’d let Bucky tug you a little closer than necessary, forgetting to check your phone all together.
tagging: @tomisbaeholland​
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andrea-lyn · 5 years ago
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For the holiday prompts- I love cheesy fluffy Hallmark Xmas movies, so one of these but insert Malex? Maybe Alex is a famous singer who is alone at Xmas cause his family sucks and the only people he surrounds himself with are people who work for him. Of course he's lacking the Xmas spirit cause he doesn't usually do holidays. He stumbles into (or gets stranded in) a small town and meets Michael. They fall in love and now Alex has this found family and is reminded of what's really important !!
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I’ll Be Home For ChristmasMichael/Alex, Hallmark AU“What do you mean I can’tbring it in? The engine is rattling!” Alex protests. He’d taken the phone fromhis assistant when clearly no progress was being made. “I rented it from you, Ineed a new one!” The agency tells him that they’re very sorry, but being thatit’s the holidays, they have no other cars available. 
The best they could do was to send him to the auto repair shop in town and promiseto reimburse him when he returned it. When Alex Manes had made it big on the music scene, he thought he’d be donewith these types of situations, but here he is, as frustrated as ever. He’s notsure who he wants to blame here, but he’s pretty sure this one comes back tohim. He’s the one who’d wanted to spend Christmas in Roswell after his fatherand brothers had waved him off, too busy with their own plans to have Alex forthe holidays.Instead, he’d come to a place that held old memories.He hasn’t been here in years, but when his mother had still been alive, thishad been her absolutely favorite place, and it’s why Alex had wanted tobe here. If he’s going to survive the stupid holiday season, he might as welltry relaxing somewhere that his mother used to love – not that he enjoysChristmas, because in the Manes family, it’s just another holiday where yourfamily lets you down.“Find me the auto repair shop,” he directs his assistant, hanging up the phoneand pinching the bridge of his nose. She nods frantically and takes his cell from him. “Yes, sir, but um…”Alex narrows his eyes. “What?”“It’s just, it’s the twenty-first?”Alex stares at her, not sure where she’s going with this, but he’s not about tointerrupt. He waits and stares at his young assistant.“You said that I could head out today to start the drive back, so I could spendChristmas with my family. Because it’s really important to me,” she says,starting to look nervous. “I can find you all the information you need, but ifI don’t get going soon, I’m not going to be able to make the drive up to SantaFe to catch my flight. I…um…” she’s near to babbling and looks close to tears,as if Alex is that much of a grinch that he’d prevent her from spending timewith her family.Shit, he’s not that bad, is he?
He knows that he’d struck it big a few years ago with some of his solo stuff,but he’s tried as best as he can to keep grounded. Maybe it’s just that hedoesn’t get the point of these holidays and it reflects in hismanagement style. They don’t decorate his house or his trailer, no one isallowed to suggest Christmas songs for Alex to cover, and his team getsbonuses, but they’re not Christmas gifts.“Yeah, of course,” Alex agrees, hurrying to make sure he doesn’t sound like anasshole. “I can take care of the car. Just give me the information and I’lltake care of it. Small town like this, there’s nothing else to do, right?”She looks almost relieved enough to cry, which kind of makes Alex feel like anasshole, because is he really that much of a bad boss that his staff thinksthat he’d deny them going home to their families for the holidays, just becausehe doesn’t see the point of celebrating with his own?“Just tell me where I’m going,” Alex says.The last thing Alex is expecting is to be told to go to a junkyard lot,but here he is. He’s adjusting his leather jacket and sliding his sunglasses upto the top of his head, watching the whole town flock to the Christmas treemarket that Roswell hosts once a year while Alex stands there beside his rentalcar, keys in hand, wondering who the hell here is supposed to look at his car.“Excuse me?” Alex calls to the man in a Santa hat, working near the cash. He’scounting bills and swaying a little to the music that’s playing over theloudspeakers nearby. It’s blaring out, drowning out the sound of thetownspeople milling around. Alex reaches out to touch the man’s shoulder,trying to get his attention. “Are you the owner?”When the man turns, Alex swallows with an audible click.“Yeah!” says the most handsome guy Alex has seen in ages. Under the Santa hat, goldenhoney curls spill out like they can’t be contained, and when he grins, his eyesactually look like they sparkle in the lights. “Hey, hold on, you gotta just…”He closes his eyes. “Can’t miss my favorite part here.”Alex is so confused, but then the guy croons along to the music playing overhim.“Baby, all I want for Christmas,” he sings, loud and not off-key, butdefinitely not with any talent that would make him famous. He opens his eyesand points to Alex, hands over his heart as he draws out, “is you.” Alex rolls his eyes, which is the normal human reaction to that, but he alsocan’t help being somewhat charmed.“And all I want is my rental car fixed,” Alex retorts, jangling the keys.“Well, that’s me,” he says. “Michael Evans,” he says, reaching out to shake hishand. “Certified mechanic, temporary tree-lot runner, and mediocre singer.”After he shakes Alex’s hands, he takes the keys. “What’s wrong with it?”Alex gives a bewildered shrug, because if he knew, he’d try and fix it himself.“I don’t know. It’s rattling?” Michael looks him over like he’s debating what he’s about to say. He looks overhis shoulder to the other people manning the cash booth (a couple of women anda guy), then back at Alex. “Okay. Give me the keys. I can look at it during afew breaks, but it means it’s not gonna get done soon. You going to be okay ifyou stick around?”What other choice does Alex have? Beyond that, what else had he been planningto do?In order to go see his mother’s old haunts, he’d need to get a taxi and this feelslike the kind of personal thing that he wants to do on his own.“Fine,” Alex says, waving a hand to let him have the car. “I guess I’ll just…”He turns and stares at the trees, hears the holiday music, and looks at all thepeople decked up in red and green. It’s like the holiday spirit puked on thearea around him, but if this is what he needs to tolerate to get his car fixedby the town’s handsome mechanic, he can deal. By the time he turns around, Michael’s gone, but the women at the cash are eyeinghim with a speculative eye, which means Alex has probably been clocked. Heheads into the trees to get lost before this ends up an autograph session,winding his way around and finding a bench near a trailer near the back of thelot. He digs out his phone to text Kyle about where he is and the updates on hissituation, scrolling through texts and emails to pass the time. He doesn’t evennotice that most people have left with their trees because he’s started tolisten to some demos to give them approval, taking advantage of the time to gothrough them. It must be hours before the car is done, but Alex doesn’t actually notice thetime passing. The tree lot isn’t the worst place to spend an afternoon,especially in a quaint and quiet town like Roswell. Michael comes to get him eventually. “Hey!” he calls over to him, wiping offhis hands. He has to duck through the trees so he can hold out the keys to him.He’s still wearing the Santa hat, but his shirt bears a few new grease stainsnow. “Thanks for waiting. I know this place can be a bit much,” he admits. Alex stands, prying the air pods out of his ears. The sun’s gone down, so thejunkyard is illuminated by twinkling lights and the stars above cutting throughthe light pollution, and Alex’s instincts are to complain that he shouldn’thave to wait around like this, but on the other hand, what else is he supposedto do in Roswell?“You’re Alex Manes, aren’t you?” Michael says, handing over the invoice for therental company. “Sorry I probably ruined your eardrums earlier,” he jokes. “it wasn’t so bad,” Alex admits, standing and taking the invoice from him. He’sstill just as handsome now – maybe even more, because he tugs off the hat andhis curls spill loose with it. The soft twinkling lights highlight the anglesof his face and the softness of his lips and god, Alex wants to kiss him morethan he’s wanted to kiss anyone in recent memory. “So uh,” he manages, findinghis voice. “I’m new in town. What’s a guy do to entertain himself in Roswell?”“Well,” Michael says. “If you’re okay with waiting ten more minutes, you couldcome to dinner with me and my family?”That’s way more than Alex had been anticipating. “I…”“You’re not intruding. They’ve been curious about you since you turned up,”Michael says, and Alex’s mind flashes back to the people at the desk staring athim. “Besides, Liz’s family owns the local diner and you can’t leave Roswellwithout a meal at the Crashdown. You should come, have dinner with us. That, orI’m gonna bring it back to your hotel, but one way or another, we’re gettingyou to try it,” he warns.Alex laughs in protest. “Okay! Okay, I’ll come to dinner with you.”Michael’s smile is as beautiful as the rest of him; so is the way he breathesin and then holds it, like he’s trying to hold onto a little hope, before helets it out. “You won’t regret it.”Alex absolutely doesn’t. That one dinner turns into lunch the next day, then it becomes Alex hangingaround the junkyard with his guitar, singing his half-written songs whileMichael works on cars. With the tree lot packed up, it’s back to normal, butMichael keeps up the lights and the sound system still plays carols. “Myparents and siblings love Christmas,” he’d explained with a warm grin. “I loveit too.”“I don’t get it,” Alex admits, “The holiday spirit. I guess because my motherdied when I was so little and my father’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.Half the time, he wasn’t even there because he or my brothers were out of thecountry on a mission. For me, Christmas was just another week that I didn’thave a family.”“That’s really sad, you know,” Michael says, and pries his guitar back fromAlex. He sits in the back of his pickup and nods to him. “Come on, you can’thate it so much that you won’t at least sing along,” he coaxes, playing theopening chords of Winter Wonderland, and when Michael gets to, “a beautifulsight,” he winks at Alex, which makes him flush.He ducks his head down and sings with Michael, listening to how their voicesharmonize together and sound so right. It all feels right. It feels perfect. At least, right up until the moment Alex’s other life comes into town and burnsit to shreds.Alex is starting to love his lunches at the Crashdown. He’s made friends ofMichael’s friends and by now he’s in tight with his family, and they’ve alltaken him on as a project, sympathetic to the fact that he’s alone onChristmas. He drinks at the Wild Pony every night, then meets Michael forbrunch before he goes to work. Liz makes sure he’s well fed, Maria keeps himdrinking, and Michael and his siblings occupy his time with holiday parties andchores. Right now, he’s in the middle of helping Isobel stuff Christmas cards when hehears a familiar voice.“Holy shit, you weren’t joking about this place being a hellhole.”Kyle Valenti, as loud as ever. Alex tenses up when he sees the hurt onMichael’s face. He rushes out to meet his manager at the door, giving him awarning look even as Kyle pulls him into a hug. He’d said those things when Alexhad first come into town – trust Kyle to repeat them now, after Alex has had acomplete change of heart.“Outside?”“Nah, I’m starved,” Kyle says, pushing past Alex. “Besides, we’re not gonna behere long, so let’s grab some lunch and talk.” Alex tenses up, but he leads Kyle to the only other open booth, which is theone beside Isobel and the others. He’s not facing Michael, which is for thebest, because he doesn’t want to see his face after that first insult. It doesn’t get better.Kyle’s as direct as ever. “So listen, we got a flight to Bora Bora,” he says,once lunch is delivered and he’s in the middle of eating fries like it’s hisjob. “The rest of us figured that it’d be shitty for you to sit here in Roswelland sulk in some stupid town…”“Kyle,” Alex warns.“And since you don’t do the holidays, it’s perfect. The resort doesn’t go infor the festivities, so it can be an Alex Manes special. Get drunk, find a hotguy to sleep with, and then back on tour in the new year.” Usually, any other year, he’d be eager to hop on a plane and do exactly asKyle’s listed. Kyle’s not wrong, that is what he excels at, but somehow thisyear is different. Staring at Michael’s curls in the booth over, he knows why,even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud. “Anyway,” Kyle says, finishing with the burger and laying down a few bills topay for his lunch. “The tickets are back at the hotel for you, okay? I’ll seeyou at the airport and then we’re Bora Bora bound,” he says with an excitedsmile, squeezing Alex’s shoulder as he bounds out, unaware of the damage he’scaused in the course of a thirty-minute lunch. Alex slowly stands, heading back to join the others, but when he gets there, itlooks like Michael is on his way out. “I…wait…”It doesn’t help. “You’re leaving, huh?” Michael says as Alex settles. “I get it. Why would youwant to spend the holidays in a stupid little town like Roswell when you couldbe off living the rock star life with drugs and sex in some tropicaldestination.” He hasn’t looked up at him, won’t meet Alex’s eye. “Shit, BoraBora, if I had that kind of money, I’d go too.”“Michael…”Michael digs into his pockets for crumpled bills to pay for his meal. It hitshim, belatedly, that it’s Christmas Eve. He’d spent so much of his life tryingto ignore the holiday and the one year he finds something he wants, reallywants, and he’s losing it because of his life outside of this town.“I get it,” Michael cuts him off. “We’re just a town you pass through, right?It was never going to be anything.” He stares at his boots, shaking his head,like he’s talking to himself. “It was never gonna be anything,” he repeats, andbefore Alex can protest, he’s gone.In the hotel nearby, Kyle’s waiting for him to pick up the tickets and leave. Tomorrow,this whole town will go have dinner with their families and curl up by thefireplace exchanging gifts. They’ll kiss under the mistletoe and drink spikedegg nog, and they’ll be happy in a way that Alex is only starting torealize he wants.He wants it. It’s not just the holiday spirit and that warmth.He wants Michael. He wants the man who’s sat with him at every meal at theCrashdown. He wants the man who tells the dirtiest jokes to get Alex to laugh asloud as possible. He wants Michael, who drinks with him at the Pony and thendances badly to the Christmas music Maria puts on, who wears reindeer antlersat the junkyard while he’s fixing cars, who plays the guitar while Alex singsfor him. He wants him and maybe he’s starting to understand the Christmasspirit, because he wants to shower him in love and gifts and kisses, butMichael thinks he’s about to leave to go to Bora Bora.“Hey,” Alex says, glancing over to Isobel, who looks at him cautiously -- likeshe’s deciding how cruel to be in return for Alex’s insults about the town. “Doyou have a guitar I can borrow?”His equipment is back in Los Angeles and if he wants this surprise to actuallybe a surprise, he can’t walk up to Michael and ask him for his. When Isobeldoesn’t answer, he figures that she’s trying to freeze him out, but Alexdoesn’t have time for it.  It’s Christmas Eve, he only has so long to prove to Michael that he’s not theman that the world wants him to be, especially not right now.“Please, Isobel,” Alex begs. “I need to win him back.”That seems to do the trick. “If that’s the case, Maria can help,” Isobelsuggests. “The Pony’s always got music nights, and if it’s to win over Michael,then I think she’ll be okay loaning it out.”“Thank you,” Alex exhales in a rush, kissing her hand before he bolts to thePony to get what he needs. He has to show Michael that he’s not Alex Manes,rock star. Right now, he’s just Alex Manes, who’s a guy wanting to prove thatthere’s more for him here than there is on some island.By the time he gets to the junkyard, it’s started to snow. Big heavy flakesfrom the sky obscuring the stars, but it gives the world a glow, especiallywith the junkyard lights. Alex can see that the lights are on inside theAirstream and Alex heads over, standing under the twinkling lights a few feetfrom the door. He’s performed in front of thousands of people before, and yet he’s never feltas nervous as he does right now. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” he begins without the guitar, adding in thechords after, and playing as he sings. It’s the first holiday song he’s evercovered that wasn’t with Michael playing guitar for him, but when the Airstreamdoor opens and Michael steps out, Alex knows it’s the most important song he’sever sung in his life.Michael looks stunned to see him, but he steps down into the snow. He’s onlywearing a cream sweater and a pair of sweatpants, no jacket to speak of. Thesnow lands in his curls, dissolving as he gapes at Alex, open-mouthed. The cover he’s doing is slow and sweet, but the only thing that matters is thechorus to Michael’s favorite song. “Baby,” he sings, barely more than a softplea, “all I want for Christmas is you.” He doesn’t sing anything beyond that,cautiously putting the guitar down as he approaches Michael. He waits for a signal to stop.Alex looks for a twitch or a flinch. He looks for a single sound that wouldtell him that Michael doesn’t want this, but by the time Alex crosses the fivesteps separating them, he hasn’t seen a single one, which is why he feelsconfident grabbing Michael’s face with both his hands and kissing him under thetwinkling lights, snowflakes cascading towards the ground.He’s on the tips of his toes, like he’s desperately eager to make this kisslast as long as it possibly can, tangling his fingers up in Michael’s curls theway he’s thought about since the moment he met him days ago, and when he easesback, he’s still nervous despite the fact that Michael’s hand is tangled up inAlex’s leather jacket, like he’s going to refuse to let him go.“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs fondly when they finally drift apart. “You’rechoosing me over Bora Bora? You don’t even like Christmas. You don’t even knowme!”He’s still not letting go.“This is the first time I’ve felt like I had a home or a family in years,” Alexgets out, his voice low and determined. “You’re the first person I’vefelt like myself around in ages. I think I’m figuring out that it’s not that Idon’t like Christmas, but I’ve never had someone to show me how good it can be.Fuck Bora Bora,” he swears. “I mean it. Michael, all I want for Christmas isyou, if you’ll have me.”Michael grins at him and Alex’s breath catches as he sees the lights reflectedin Michael’s eyes. “I’ve been dreaming of having you in about ten different ways,” Michael informshim, tugging Alex towards the Airstream as he wanders idly backwards. “I neverthought I’d get what I asked Santa for Christmas,” he jokes. “Maybe you’ve been a nice boy this year,” Alex suggests, traipsing after himwith a wide-eyed besotted look.Michael smirks as he steps inside, casting Alex a filthy smirk before he pullsoff his shirt. “Baby,” he says, and pushes Alex to the bed. “I’m definitely onthe naughty list for the thoughts I’ve had about you.”Naughty or nice, Alex thinks that they both got exactly what they wanted thisyear, and if anyone had told Alex that this is what he’d be yearning for at thestart of the year, he’d think they were insane. Now that he has it, he knowsthat the only madness would be not having this, not wantingMichael.With Michael finally in his arms, Alex isn’t going to let go.It’s rude to take back the gifts you’re given, after all.*It’s December 21st and Alex turns over in bed to see snow fallingoutside the window. He’s warm in bed, curled up with thick blankets, but despitethat warmth, he’s missing the body heat of someone pressed up against him. Heturns, with a whine of protest, sleepy eyes opening to see Michael sitting nearthe door, tugging on his boots, along with his denim jacket. “Wear the puffer,”Alex mumbles sleepily. “You’re gonna freeze out there in the tree lot all day.”Michael pulls on his other boot and wanders back to bed to give Alex a kiss onthe cheek. “I’m sorry, is my sleepy husband asking me to wear his expensivegifts?”“What’s the point of being a rock star if I can’t spoil you?” Alex asks,yawning in the middle of his words as he grabs at Michael’s jacket to try andpull him in for another kiss. “Your Santa hat’s by the door,” he mumbles, stilldebating whether he wants to go back to sleep.“Thanks, babe,” Michael says, adjusting the hat as it jingles and jangles.“Don’t forget, you’re on stage at noon to lead the carols,” he says, pocketinghis keys. Alex stretches his whole body out and stares at Michael with a happy grin,thinking about the days ahead and the activities they’ll be doing to ring inthe holidays. His house in Los Angeles has been sold, the fancy cars gone, andwhile Alex hasn’t stopped touring and has the same team supporting him, he’slearned an important lesson.It’s one thing to have a career that you love, but having friends and familyaround you at the same time makes life so much better.“I’ll see you there, Santa,” Alex promises, voice low and thick with the headypromise.“Thanks Mrs. Clause,” Michael teases as he goes, whistling a very familiar songon his way out, and as Alex falls back to sleep, the last thing he hears isMichael singing, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas…” under his breath, whichcoaxes Alex back to sleepy warm and perfect dreams about the life he’s made forhimself.
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“Geralt!” The bard calls approaching his friend a large smile on his face.
“Good to see you.” Geralt says as he continues to brush Roach’s mane. “Travels been good?” He asks looking at his friend.
“Well the people have been fighting over me, and I have to give the people what they want.” Jaskier replies a confident smile on his face.
“They must be all tone deaf.” Geralt replies a playful grin on his lips as he takes a step away from Roach inspecting his work.
“Keep it up and you won’t get the surprise I’ve gotten you.” The bard threatens.
“Your last surprise had almost gotten my face melted and Roach eaten, now what is it?” Geralt asks eyeing the bard. Jaskier only smiles digging into his bag.
“Well I may have stopped in this quaint little village and-“ Geralt held up his hand stopping Jaskier mid sentence, the moment Jaskier opened his bag he caught the scent, that oh so familiar scent of roses, chamomile and a bit of lavender.
“I don’t need you playing match maker.” Geralt grumbles.
“She misses you and is worried and she thought you were dead you should’ve seen the look on her face when I told her I was coming to see you.” Jaskier explained frowning a bit. Geralt didn’t want to think of your face...how upset you must’ve looked, heartbroken and betrayed.
“I did try to smooth things over, I told her I also thought you died as well until Vesmir reached out to me and set up this little meet up here.” Jaskier continued.
“Why did you have to go and see her?” Geralt asked ignoring his friends explanation.
“Because she’s my friend and I worry about her and the fact she fell in love with an emotionally incompetent man who doesn’t enjoy my singing.” Jaskier replied. “Look just read the letter and write her back and maybe be clear about your intentions.” Jaskier says finally pulling out the letter. Geralt stares at it for a beat before finally taking it from the bard.
“Well now that, that’s settled onward to our next mission.” Jaskier said with newfound energy.
It’s late when the two find a tavern for the night it’ll be another day or two depending on the weather before they reach their destination. Geralt sits on the bed staring at the unopened letter he brings it to his nose enjoying your faint scent still on it,finally he opens it.
My lov Geralt I’ve gone through this in my head dozens of time...I hope this finds you well. I miss you . I thought you were dead. I’m hurt, angry and so confused. I hope that- I hope that you find whatever it is that you’re looking for and I wish you could’ve found happiness with me.
Geralt stares at the letter for a long time, he reads it several times. He loved you, loved you more than he thought more than he should have. He knew it was wrong to just leave the way he did...in the middle of the night while you slept a gentle kiss to the forehead and quick note about a monster and he’ll return soon. But he knew he wouldn’t and it hurt him. Geralt sighs he thinks about replying, would you even read it what would he say.
That he was afraid of falling in love again, that it scared him, that he almost almost turned around to be home with you and live a simple life waking up every morning to someone who loved and adored him, no ulterior motives just someone who just wanted him nothing more nothing less. The maiden and the mutant? No it was foolish dream no matter how much he wanted it he couldn’t. You deserved better someone who would be stable and consistent. Someone who could give you a family if that was what you truly desired.
Geralt sighed he needed to meditate after this he would see you...hopefully and give you some sort explanation. Sleep does not come to the Witcher no matter how hard he tries to clear his mind, and soon he finds himself writing to you.
You weren’t expecting to hear from Geralt, okay that was lie you were hoping to hear something after running into Jaskier that was until this morning you had received a reply from the man that you had so foolishly fallen for. You eagerly opened the letter.
Dove...I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to call you that. I owe you an explanation and I know- fuck I know that I’ve hurt you. I- I’m weak and I’m wanting-all I’ve ever known is how to be a Witcher and the responsibilities that come with-but I met you and now there’s- fuck this is hard I’m sorry and I just- this is hard to explain.
You read and re-read the letter over and over again. Everyday for two almost three weeks you read over and over again before you go to bed and when you wake in the morning. And just like every morning you’d finished breakfast and went to hangout your laundry. You enjoyed the summer it was your favorite season and you were glad this particular morning it was windy your clothes would dry in no time with the heat and wind combined. After that you spent the afternoon baking trying to distract yourself from thoughts Geralt.
Geralt could see your home it was so close. Was it too late to turn back? He could smell the bread you were baking, he could also see your laundry hanging out to dry. No it was now or never he’d already ran once from you and his feelings he wouldn’t do it again. Dismounting from Roach he approached your home entering by the small yard and garden area. He could hear you singing that gods awful song Jaskier wrote about tossing a coin to a Witcher though it did sound better coming from you. It made the song slightly more tolerable.
He steeled himself as he began to step around the drying clothes. Rounding the corner you walked right into to him. Geralt let out a soft grunt. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest, dark doe like eyes gazed up at him.
“Fuck.” Geralt mumbled
“Geralt? I-you” you stuttered looking at him. Geralt stood straighter motioning to your home. You nodded leading him inside. Honeyed colored eyes took in every detail nothing had changed except more flowers and other plants, still warm, still safe. His gaze finally lands on you. Just as beautiful the day he first met you, deep brown eyes, full lips...his eyes lingered on your lips.
Then it comes Geralt feels the sting he knows it’ll leave a nice red mark on his cheek. You hold your hand glaring at him and yet despite your anger your eyes are glossy tears ready to spill any second. Then you approach him and in seconds your chest to chest, your fists pound against his frame, not enough to hurt him but he lets you vent finally you stop your forehead on his chest and she stays there holding you as your shoulders shake as you sob.
He doesn’t say anything...what could he possibly say. He continues to hold you, his own vision becoming blurry he blinks back his own tears. He doesn’t have a right to be sad he’s the one that caused this in the first place. Finally you’ve calmed Geralt still holds you though he doesn’t want to let you go again.
“You came back.” You finally say.
“I did....it was the easiest and hardest thing I had to do.” He replies.
“What?” You asked confused.
“I- I didn’t want to come back, I was scared that you’d found someone else....someone who wouldn’t put you through what I did, if you had someone else who could make you happy..a happiness you deserve.” Geralt says his golden eyes locked on you. “But I’m glad I did.” He pauses after a moment trying to convey his feelings as best as he can.
“I love you dove, I’m old, I’m selfish, and I really really fucking love you.” He finally says, before you can speak, before you can process what he says his lips are on yours his hands cradling your face. He finally pulls away and you’re both gasping for air.
He presses his forehead against yours.
“Are you leaving again?” You ask you almost regret it but you have to know.
“I will always be a Witcher but you are my home and we still need an extra income after all, Witcher’s do work up an appetite.” He answers with a soft smile. You let out a soft chuckle, it’s music to his ears.
“And when a job lasts longer than intended I will write I promise.” He continues as he continues to hold you close. He can feel you nod, he smiles again closing his eyes enjoying you.
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