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sunjaesol · 4 years ago

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the smile you gave me (it’s magic)

juke | meet-cute au | tw: alcohol + annoying men in bars | written for @alexjulies as we have the same headcanons about luke

What Julie Molina was about to do was horribly unfeminist and Flynn would hate her forever, but really, it was all the man’s fault - as usual.

She rejected his advances three times now in the last hour. The bartender gave her a drink on the man’s tab and she sent it back, the man brought it himself (introduced himself as Levi) and she politely declined once more. The third time he asked her to dance and then she fled to the bathroom. Julie wasn’t the biggest partygoer, occasionally joining Flynn for happy hour - like today. Her friend was late however, due to an emergency meeting at a magazine she worked at and Julie had to endure the bar alone. Grave mistake. She should’ve just waited at a McDonalds or something; even if she’d look out of place in her cocktail dress.

im there in 15!! hang in there <3 <3

Julie groaned. Great. Fifteen more minutes in a smelly bathroom stall as women outside were drunkenly crying in front of the mirrors and babbled about their own grievances regarding men. For such a universal problem, she had hoped all men would’ve taken the hint by now.

No, she didn’t want to dance. No, she didn’t want a drink. No, she wouldn’t give her number to someone that kept pushing and coming into her personal space. Levi could fuck off. It was bad enough how he had given her a suggestive once-over like he was deciding whether he wanted brunette or blonde tonight.

The reminder angered her, pushed her out of the stall with a scowl. Was she really going to let a dumb man (nay: boy) ruin her night before it even started? Her songwriting session with Hayley Williams had gone really well and she deserved to celebrate that! She deserved to end her day on a high note! A quick look in the mirror to assure her make-up hadn’t smudged, she marched out the bathroom back into the dimly lit bar.

Her eyes scanned the room, relieved to not catch Levi close-by. Did he give up and leave? Was he cornering another girl? Whatever. As long as he wasn’t bothering her, she’d be able to breathe and maybe forget about the altercation.

If he did bother her again, she’d use her privilege as a girl and yell at the top of her lungs that he was harassing her. Surely then security would kick him out, right?

Over by the bartop was clamour, two men pulling each other into a laughing embrace as one hauled their backpack over their shoulder as the other dropped it. Changing shifts, Julie noted, halting on the man that had arrived. Well then. The theory that bars only hired attractive people seemed to be correct, the guy straight from a CW show. Mussed up brown hair, sharp features, big eyes, cute smile. A ten out of ten.

He shrugged his red shacket off, fully black outfit beneath and began washing off discarded glasses. His muscular arms made her throat dry up; he wasn’t attractive, he was hot.

(Oh God. Was she just as bad as Levi, gawking over a stranger? But wasn’t part of his job that girls were supposed to gawk over him? More tips and all that? Julie decided she shouldn’t feel too guilty.)

Her feet moved on their own accord towards the bar, sliding into a leather high stool and wondering what she’d order as she waited for any of the bartenders (him?) to approach her.

Luck was on her side, the new bartender pressing his hands into the counter, brows raised expectantly. “What can I get you?”

Her lips tutted, debating between a margarita and a strawberry mojito. Both were appealing and at a marginally low price. “What’s better?”, she asked. “Margarita or mojito? Honestly.”

He grinned. “Honestly?”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms atop the counter, a brush away from his hands. “I’ve bartended before. I know you have to lie a little.”

His muscle tee shifted around as he chuckled, slivers of tattoos peeking through on his chest. Her eyes averted, hoping she was a bit more subtle than she felt, and kept them trained on the stacks of whiskey in the glass rack.

His fingers drummed on the wood. “The mojito, then.” Leaning in as if imparting a secret, he added: “We’ve been buying the cheaper tequila. Gotta pay those bills.”

Satisfied at his reply, she gave him a pleased nod. “Okay. A mojito, please.”

He pushed himself off with a click of the tongue, as if he auctioned her something, and turned to grab the ingredients. As he poured the rum into a tall glass, he fell into casual conversation she was all too familiar with.

“You here alone?”

“Waiting on a friend.” Eager to distract herself from the reason why she waiting, and what caused her to wait in a fucking bathroom, she asked: “What’s the tattoo?”

The bartender paused for a beat, as if momentarily forgetting he was inked up, and then tugged his shirt out the way to showcase more skin. Had she not been so curious, she’d focus on the fact that he was defined as hell. The tattoo was a detailed sun with an ocean wave drawn inside. More uncovered: a play and pause button, ‘now or never’, a stick and poke tattoo of a lightning bolt. It was as if she herself doodled onto her skin and then left it there, but it somehow worked. It was personal. Maybe she was also a bit intrigued since he seemed especially interested by music. Granted, it was LA. Everyone was some type of artist with varying degrees of success. Still - she was curious.

“They’re cool,” she complimented, him going back to making her drink with an appreciative grin.

“Thanks.”

“Was the lightning bolt a drunk decision?”, she teased. The only instance someone got a stick and poke tattoo was when they felt chaotic or impulsive.

His grin widened, throwing crushed ice in the glass. “That obvious? Yeah, me and my boys all got one. This whole idea of-” He waved his hands around, trying to find the right words. “-bonding us together for life, I guess.”

Warmth thudded in her chest at his story, endeared by the way his voice became lighter when he talked about his friends. They must be like brothers to him.

As he placed the completed drink in front of her, she contemplated her answer. She’d rather keep talking to him than wait for Flynn in silence. “That’s nice. Having friends like that, it’s special.” Twisting her wrist, she showed her own tattoo. “I got this one when I turned eighteen.”

They were two, small butterflies dancing on the inside of her forearm. When her mother passed away, she always knew she’d get something to commemorate her. Doodles of butterflies marked her skin in high school, finally becoming permanent when she was allowed to. Knowing everyone inevitably asked about the why, she continued talking.

“It’s, you know, it’s about metamorphosis and beauty and transcendence and I just-” She caught herself before blabbing her sob story to a stranger. With a chuckle, she muttered: “It’s a reminder that change is good.”

When Julie looked up at him, she was struck by the wonder on his face. He didn’t look as confident as he did before, probably taken aback by her sudden spiritual spiel about butterflies - or by her, in general. The thought let a quiet thrill course through her.

He snapped out of it, a smirk falling on his lips as his nail chimed against the glass. “It’s on me.”

“Is that a move?” Her head tilted, amused.

“You want me to lie or be honest?” The man leaned across the counter again, much closer this time. “Cool tattoo, by the way.”

She laughed, biting back a silly grin from blooming. This was his job, she reminded herself. Act all cute and get her to buy more drinks so that eventually, her tab would be enormous. It was like winning once at a game of poker and then becoming cocky.

Coy, she ripped her gaze from his and sipped on her drink. She’d let him simmer for a bit.

That was when it happened. Her unfeminist deed that would make Gloria Steinem shudder. Levi, the devil reincarnated, shot her a smug look from the other side of the bar. Swerving past people to the beat of the music, he tried approaching her again.

Julie groaned behind her glass, her good mood instantly shattered once more. Why couldn’t this idiot take a fucking hint?!

“Damn,” bartender mused, “I thought my mojito skills were good.”

The brash words tumbled out at a rapid pace, her need for a solution trumping her pride. “There’s a guy coming onto me right now and you need to help me ward him off. Please.”

He grimaced. “Yeesh. Ex-boyfriend?”

“Worse,” she bit. “A fool.”

A stressed smile pinned itself on her cheeks as Levi sidled beside her, one arm bracketing her left. Her back tensed as she shot a quick, pleading look at the bartender. He zeroed in on Levi, mouth curled downwards.

“There you are,” Levi grinned. “Thought you left.”

Julie didn’t entertain him anymore. “I’ve told you. I’m not interested.”

He dismissed her. “I see you got yourself a drink? What is it?”

“I’m not interested,” she snapped, eyes flickering once more to the bartender. Was he really not going to help her?

It spurred him into action, his arm reaching over to create a barrier between Levi and her. “Dude, you heard her. Back off.”

Levi snarled. “Can you not? This is between me and her.”

“No, actually,” he exclaimed, blunt. “I’m her boyfriend.”

Her vigilance got her acting swiftly, shifting her expression into a believable nod and placing a hand on his outstretched arm.

“He is?” Levi was gobsmacked, a hint of anger lacing his voice.

“Yeah,” Julie bit, silently thanking him when he played along and enveloped her hand with his. Her final strike spit his venom right back in his face. “So can you just leave us alone?”

The man rolled his eyes with a scoff, kicking one of the stools and mumbling a string of curses. “Bullshit…”

When he was out of sight again, having stormed off like a petulant child to a shadowy corner, Julie let out breath of relief. “Finally!” Shooting the bartender a bright smile, she kept babbling. “You have no idea how annoying that is. And smart idea - the boyfriend card always works!”

He squeezed her hand, worried. “You sure you’re okay? That was fucked up.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off, the soft touch reminding her of his words from before. Squeezing back, she watched as the pinch between his brows vanished. “I’m okay.”

They kept their stare for a beat, the revolving pop music and excited chatter merely background noise. Neither have let go of their hold on each other. She didn’t want to either; his hand was warm and gentle and a calloused thumb absentmindedly caressed her skin. Levi should learn from this.

Sometimes, a connection just happened.

He let go first, collecting himself into a casual stance that was far more amusing than it should be. Ducking beneath the bar and grabbing a beer, he tapped it against her glass with a cocky nod. “My name’s Luke.”

Julie matched his expression. Luke. Luke, the bartender. It fit him perfectly. “I’m Julie. Are you supposed to be drinking on the clock?”

“I work in a bar,” Luke deadpanned. “It’s expected. And I’m sure Jack can handle it.”

“Why would he have to serve alone?” she inquired teasingly, eyes glimmering with challenge. If there was one thing she loved, it was getting the upper hand in a fun game of flirting.

He lifted his bottle with a wink. “I’m drinking with you.” A pause, his gaze matching her intensity. Damn. He was a good opponent. “Unless you want me to go?”

She shook her head, took a sip from the mojito and wiggled her brows. “Cheers to warding off annoying men, fake boyfriend.”

“I better get some good karma from this,” he joked. “Cheers!”

(Later that night, she’d realise Flynn never came by. When she asked what happened, Flynn told her she had walked in and saw Julie completely wrapped up in a conversation ‘with that cute bartender’ and left. The joyous announcement that Julie got his number made her friend screech over the phone.

Julie went back to the bar many times. Drinking and talking bled until deep in the night, once till closing time and then he walked her to her apartment. He didn’t resist when she kissed him, his lips kissing back with hunger.

It didn’t take long for the ‘fake’ to be scrapped from that label.)

🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸

@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @ourstarscollided

#as an apology for last night's angst #here's something lighter lmao #juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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heejinnien · 4 years ago

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i.jaebum & p.jinyoung | crimson roses part one

word count: 3k

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung

synopsis: when y/n’s sister is murdered, she’s forced to evaluate everything that she thought she knew.

genre: mystery, witsec au

warnings: the reader is in a club (they’re old enough to legally be there), murder, gore, imagery used to describe the reader tripping over and finding a dead body, probably incorrect portrayal of the witsec program, there’s a mildly disturbing nightmare

rating: pg-17

author’s note: this is part one of the walking on sunshine event! it focuses on summer beginnings. i was partnered with @dreamystuffers, and credits to them for the amazing moodboard! thank you @birbdae and ryan for being my beta readers. seriously, thank you for filling in all the spaces where i wrote blah blah

“I freaking hate Tzuyu.”

You groan, dropping your head in your hands. Sympathetically, the bartender slides a glass of water towards you, accepting the grunt that you emit afterwards as a sort of thank you. You pause in your wallowing to take a long sip of the icy liquid, feeling the pressure in your head lift slightly.

“Rough night?”

The bartender’s smooth, baritone voice carries over the loud sounds of the club’s music, and you wince at his words.

“Something like that.”

The bartender looks as though he’ll say more, but he’s cut off by the sound of a high, feminine voice ordering another drink. You’re grateful for the distraction, sliding a wad of bills over the counter and slipping off of the metal stool. You appreciate the kindness he has shown you, but you really need to start looking for your sister.

Slowly, you begin to weave through the throng of clubgoers, searching for anyone who moderately resembles your sister. You wince as an elbow connects with your stomach and bite back a curse when a heel stabs your toe. Still, there is no sign of your sister.

Pushing your way to the far side of the club, you lean against a wall, panting slightly, and pull out your phone. The LED at the top signals that nobody tried to call or text you while you were struggling to navigate a mob of drunk clubgoers, and a knot of worry tightens itself in your stomach. It’s been over an hour since you last saw your sister. She left you at a booth with a few of your mutual acquaintances to go dance, and you haven’t seen her since. Giving them an awkward smile, you had slid out of the booth to go sit at the bar. You were more polite to them because they were your sister’s friends than anything, and you know you hadn’t been imagining the awkwardness that had settled into the air once your sister had left.

You quickly swipe through your phone, silently praying that Tzuyu will answer and tell you she took a cab back to your shared apartment and she forgot to tell you, or that she’s actually been in the bathroom constipated this entire time.

“Hi, this is Tzuyu, I’m busy right now, which is why I didn’t pick up…”

With a groan, you turn your phone off. Pushing yourself off the wall, you weave your way to the bathrooms, opting to begin your second search there. Unsurprisingly, the small metal stalls are empty. You cringe as your shoe sticks to an unknown substance, exiting the bathroom and mind racing about where Tzuyu’s whereabouts could be.

A cool breeze winds itself around you, tousling your hair gently and you freeze.

A breeze?

You turn away from the rest of the clubbers, following the hallway deeper into the building. The further you go, the darker it gets, and a second chill sets upon you, one unrelated to the cool breeze.

Heart pounding, you turn the corner and see a cracked doorway. The soft light of the night greets you, and you feel a spark of relief. Maybe her phone died and your sister went out this door to leave. You quickly hurry out the door, pushing it open and turning down the alleyway.

You’ve only gone a few paces, pulling out your phone to dial your sister again when your foot collides with something hard. Your arms flail as you attempt to right yourself, but you go down, your elbow colliding with something soft and your chin colliding with the hardness of the asphalt.

Letting out a groan, you try to push yourself up by pressing your hands against the ground on either side of you, but they slip. Something wet and sticky coats your hands, and confusion fills you as you blindly reach around you for your phone. Your fingers connect with the cold metal, and you’ve scarcely turned on the device and activated the flashlight before you’re greeted with the mutilated body of your sister.

It takes you a second to register that the loud noise you hear is your own screaming.

You stare blankly ahead of you in shock.

Vaguely, you hear someone talking to you, but it’s like you’re underwater, all the sounds around you muffled. The image of your sister is frozen in your mind, your fingers trembling as you grip the blanket that someone wrapped around you tightly.

You think back to the last time you saw her, only a few hours ago, smiling and joyous and alive.

If she were here with you right now, she would have something comforting to say. She’d always been the more level of you too, somehow able to keep calm even in situations when you’ve felt panicked. But she’s not.

It should have been me, you think bitterly, rocking back and forth.

“Miss L/N.”

A hand settling on your arm causes you to jump and pull yourself out of your trance. Dumbly, you look at the hand, using it to trace your way up the unknown person’s wrist and arm until you can see their face. Concerned eyes stare back at you, and you force yourself to listen to what the unknown man is saying.

“I’m sorry to say this, but your clothes need to be bagged for evidence.”

You blink, unable to process the man’s words.

“Miss L/N, please. I know you want us to catch whoever did this to your sister, and we’re trying our best, but we need to bag your clothing as evidence.”

The mention of your sister clears the fog that has settled over you, and you nod. Weakly, you stand, following the man as he guides you to a restroom. He hands you a bag and a stack of clothes, instructing for you to change into the new set and bag the old clothes.

Robotically, you do as he tells you to until you’re changed into a sweater several sizes too big and a pair of jeans that cling to your legs tightly. You splash water on your face, staring at yourself hollowly in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, a foreign, hollow look in your eyes. Get it together, Y/N, you chide yourself. You can cry about this later. For Tzuyu.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you turn, exiting the bathroom with the bag of your old clothes in your hands. As soon as you exit, several furtive glances are sent your way. You furrow your brows in confusion, and a new, unknown man hurries over to you.

“Please follow me quickly, Miss L/N.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man doesn’t respond, hurrying you through the station and down a hallway until you’re stopped in front of a closed door. A plaque centered on the door reads “Sergeant Park.” Not wasting the time to knock, the man pushes open the door, taking the bag from your hands and ushering you in.

“Miss L/N, I’m so sorry about your loss.”

Hearing those words makes your throat tighten again, and you force your feelings down. You look around you, noting the awards adorning the walls around you. Two men stand inside the office, both wearing grim expressions. The one who spoke is seated behind the desk, and he stands, gesturing for you to take the free seat opposite him.

“There’s something we need to talk to you about.”

“My sister was a good person, she wasn’t mixed up in anything — ” You protest.

“That’s not what this is about.” The man opposite you, Sergeant Park, you assume, holds up his hand. “Time is crucial here, so please just listen to what I have to tell you.”

You nod, throat clogging from fearful anticipation.

“The Black Rose is the name of a powerful crime syndicate who’ve been running for the past few decades. We’ve tried our best to stop them, but they have connections everywhere.”

“My sister — ” You spring to your feet.

“Miss L/N. Please.”

You sink back into the chair, cheeks burning and thoroughly chastised. Once you’re seated, Sergeant Park continues.

“We’re not sure who all is involved with them, but what we do know is that they mark every kill, and they never kill without reason.”

Your thoughts race as you hear the unspoken words. “And my sister was marked,” you deadpan.

Sergeant Park nods grimly, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up within you. It dies instantly at the serious expression on Sergeant Park’s face.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Sergeant Park purses his lips, speaking slowly. “Until we know for sure, we need you to go into witness protection. We promise that we wouldn’t make you do this if we weren’t sure that your life is at serious risk. Mr. Im?”

Sergeant Park gestures to the other person in the room, who you assume is Mr. Im. Until now, he’s been silent, and you almost forgot that he’s here. He gives you a gentle smile.

“Please, call me Jaebum.” His tone is soothing, and you want to trust him. Still, you bite your lip, hesitant.

Sergeant Park speaks again. “Mr. Im will protect you the entire duration of the program. I promise that you’re in good hands. You guys will leave tonight.”

Alarm bells ring in your head. “Wait, tonight? I don’t understand. I still have finals, and what about my life here — ”

“Miss L/N.” Sergeant Park fixes you with a stern look. “I understand that things may seem intimidating right now, but I need you to do your best to do what we say. You could be a key role in this investigation, and Mr. Im is here to ensure that no harm comes to you. I know that this isn’t ideal, but please just let us protect you.”

You look from Sergeant Park to Jaebum. The latter gives you a reassuring smile, and your head still reels from all of the events of the night, but you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you breathe. “Okay, what do I have to do?”

“You keep twisting your bracelet.”

Jaebum’s voice pierces through your mindless thoughts and the dull monotony of the journey. You have been driving for the better part of the night, your thoughts still racing as you try to process everything. You look down at the bracelet Jaebum is talking about, and even though it’s dark you know what he’s talking about.

“My sister gave it to me,” you say simply.

“It must be pretty important to you, then,” he observes, eyes never straying once from the road.

“Something like that,” you say, assuming that’s the end of the conversation. Seconds later, Jaebum speaks again.

“Look, Y/N, I know that a lot has happened in one night — ”

“Please don’t,” you whisper, voice cracking. You clear your throat, staring out the window at the dark shadows of the landscape. “Don’t try to act like you understand how I feel. Twenty-four hours ago I was just a college student, and now…”

You swallow thickly, a lump forming itself in your throat.

“You are still just a college student, Y/N.”

“You know, aren’t you supposed to be using my new name?” You force yourself to change the topic, looking at Jaebum out of the side of your eyes.

Jaebum coughs awkwardly. “We aren’t there yet, and I thought that using your real name would make you more…comfortable with me.”

You scoff, but don’t speak. Awkward silence fills the car, interrupted only by the occasional sound of the night from outside your car window.

You remain like that for the rest of the ride. Everytime you think about saying something, you bury it, not wanting to show interest.

After a while, the road turns to dirt. The car bounces along the new road, and you can’t help but feel even further isolated from your old life. Jaebum pulls down a narrow driveway, and then the car stops, bathing a small cottage in the car’s light. Jaebum turns off the car’s ignition, and as you open the car’s door, you can hear the soft sound of waves crashing. Sand crunches beneath your shoes as you take in the sights around you.

You hear the sound of the trunk close, and seconds later Jaebum rounds the car, duffel bags gripped in his hands.

“This is it,” Jaebum says.

“I guess so,” you agree, exhaling nervously. You follow Jaebum up the cottage’s steps, hovering uncertaintly as he unlocks the front door. Following him inside, you squint against the bright yellow lights of the cottage.

You’re standing in a small living room. To your left is the kitchen and what you assume is the dining room, and to the right is a hallway. Jaebum leads you down the hallway, setting one of the duffle bags in front of a plain, unassuming white door.

“This is your room. Mine is right next to you.” Jaebum knocks goofily on the door in front of him, and you let out a short laugh.

“Okay.”

You grab your bag, pushing open the door to the room. You pause in the doorway, unsure. “Good night, Jaebum.”

A moment passes, and then you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Tzuyu! Where are you?”

You’re in a meadow, tall stalks of wheat reaching your shoulders. You frown, trying to remember how you got here, but you can’t. Alarm bells ring in your head, and you push through the stalks, searching for your sister.

“Tzuyu! Tzuyu! Where — are — you?”

Your voice is reflected back at you, distorted and garbled. Panic rises in you, bubbling hot like lava, and you begin to push through the stalks around you faster.

Finally, you stumble upon a clearing. A flock of birds takes flight, and your eyes scan the clearing, frantic. A body lies on the ground unmoving, and you run towards it. Deep in your gut you know who it is, but that doesn’t stop the gasp that leaves you as you clearly identify the girl lying there.

It’s Tzuyu.

The sight of her body makes you freeze, and before you can stop it you trip. When you regain your bearings, you’re back in the alley again. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and as you do Tzuyu’s hand shoots out, wrapping itself around your wrist. A scream gets choked in your throat as your sister sits up, smile stretching too wide for her face.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

“Tzuyu, you’re hurting me,” you cry, trying to pry your sister’s grasp from your wrist. She only holds on tighter, other hand shooting out and wrapping itself around your throat.

“Why didn’t you save me? Why didn’t you SAVE ME?”

A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you shoot into a sitting position, clutching the comforter you had admired just hours earlier against you. Your breathing is ragged, and dimly you hear heavy footsteps. Seconds later, harsh light floods your room and you throw your hand against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the intrusion.

Jaebum’s eyes are wild as he takes in your room, the way you’re sitting up, clutching the comforter against you. His muscles relax as he ascertains that you are physically safe, eyes softening at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, embarrassment beginning to seep through your previous horror.

“I’m sorry, had a nightmare.” You force yourself to laugh, the sound an octave too high to be believable. “You can just go back to your room, everything is fine.”

You swallow forcefully, staring down at the comforter and picking at a thread that has unwound itself from the careful stitching. Silently, you yell at Jaebum to leave. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand being mortified, discomfort seeping into the air around you.

After a long pause, you hear the gentle click of your door close. You don’t bother to look up, instead electing to close your eyes, sure that by the count of ten, he’ll be gone.

You’ve just reached eight when you feel your bed dip, and strong arms wrapping themselves around you. You stiffen, eyes snapping open to glare at the offender.

“You don’t have to treat me like a baby, I told you that I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be weak you know.”

To your immense horror, you feel your eyes begin to well. You blink rapidly, trying to untangle yourself from Jaebum’s presence, but he holds on tightly. Before you can stop it, all of the emotions of the past twenty-four hours hit you, crashing against the gate that you had shoved them behind. The emotions you felt at your sister’s death, the emotional burden of having to suddenly end your old life and going into hiding suddenly become too much, and before you can help it tears stream down your cheeks. You gasp as you struggle to breathe, everything suddenly just becoming too much.

Time goes by without either of you realizing it, and neither of you know how long you remain in that position, Jaebum patting your back lightly as your grief pours out of you. After a few sniffles and swipes across your eyes you let out a groan, pulling away and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.

“God, I can’t believe I just did that.”

“It’s okay, everyone has to let go of emotions at some point.” Jaebum gives you a gentle smile. “You should try to get some rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” Jaebum’s eyes widen, and you quickly scramble to backtrack. “I mean, you don’t have to — I don’t know what I was thinking — ”

“Of course I will.” Jaebum cuts off your ramble, smiling brightly. “I’ll just bring in a blanket from my room and sleep on the floor — ”

“You can share with me if you want. I don't mind; we both need a good night sleep, right?” You blurt quickly, panting slightly as you finish your question. Jaebum simply laughs, running a hand through his hair. He climbs onto the bed and lays on his side, patting the bed next to him. Shyly, you crawl next to him, laying down and trying not to think about the position you’re in too deeply.

Wrapped in the comfort of Jaebum’s warmth, you close your eyes, focusing on the gentle sounds of your breathing. A sense of tranquility washes over you, and you finally fall asleep.

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#on the shore #kpopscape #summerscape #got7writerscollective #jaebum x reader #im jaebum #im jaebeom #park jinyoung #jinyoung x reader #got7 #got7 jinyoung #got7 fics #got7 au #witsec au

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musedblues · 4 years ago

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A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────��₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door.

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice.

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to.

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips.

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights.

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any.

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look.

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you.

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles.

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you.

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits.

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback.

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response.

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate.

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his.

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast.

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy.

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?" John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked.

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist.

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while.

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side.

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much.

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home.

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach.

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye.

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?"

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke.

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner.

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab.

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be?

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less.

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day.

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness.

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable.

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true.

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you."

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye.

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow."

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before.

What a jam...

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business.

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away.

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for.

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention.

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system.

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John.

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John.

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment.

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life.

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene.

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who.

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved, happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away.

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting.

"Then kiss me, John."

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you.

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything.

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you.

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd.

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back.

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-"

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all.

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now.

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again.

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next.

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut.

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction.

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off.

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along.

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better.

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control.

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in.

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work.

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another.

Then you heard your mother. She shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent.

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt.

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world.

And the best you could do was wait. Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year.

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into.

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened.

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night.

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?"

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get.

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice.

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos.

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence. "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try."

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at.

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction.

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from.

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand.

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators.

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most.

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes.

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from.

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once.

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan.

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought.

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you.

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore.

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning.

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm.

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond.

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered.

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver.

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning.

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled.

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby."

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration.

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled.

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused.

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more.

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here.

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose.

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London.

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no.

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning.

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #john deacon fanfiction

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samanthadalton · 4 years ago

Note

You’re latest Ina Fanfic was sooo lush! Can you write one where Ina and MC bump into each other in NYC on Christmas Eve? Just think that would be super romantic ❤️

hi anon, im sorry it took a while, im slowly trying to get back into my requests, hope you enjoy ❤️

pairings: Ina x Bea

taglist: @cloud9in @kulaykape @citybornchick @helpconfusedpersonhere @astrangeandunusualgirl @jenxespinoza @thedaft1 (added people from my ina taglist if you wanna be added in future fics let me know 😊)

word count: 1.7k

Holiday tour date

You wade through the busy streets of New York as the streets are in full pandemonium, as patrons roam the streets, most likely doing their last minute christmas shopping. You take a minute to watch the looks on their faces, so full of worry, so far from the christmas cheer they’ll most likely plaster on their faces tomorrow morning. As you look around the streets you see a woman who kinda looks like Ina, she even has the same glasses as Ina- wait… that IS Ina. What is the coincidence that you’ll bump into her on Christmas Eve???

You’re about to approach her, until you notice the crestfallen expression on her face, her corner of her lips drawn downwards as she wishfully stares up at bustling crowds. After a few more moments of deliberation you decide to take the plunge and approach Ina, after all it's Christmas Eve and no one should be sad on Christmas Eve.

“Hey stranger.” You announce as you edge closer to her. As if startled by the sound of your voice, Ina jerks her head towards your direction, her eyebrows shot up.

“Bea!” She looks at you like you’re not real, unable to hide the sound of surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you from across the street and decided to say hi to my favourite professor.” You give her a sweet smile and see some of the shock dissipate from her face, as her expression softens and relaxes.

“I meant what are you doing in New York?” She quirks an eyebrow up at you. “I thought you said you were going home for the holidays?”

You sigh sadly, and pointedly glance away, “yeah, I was planning on going home a couple of days ago but there’s a storm back at home so all flights got cancelled.” You give her an empty smile, sadness swimming in your eyes as you draw your gaze back to her. She frowns slightly, her expression solemn as she looks at you apologetically.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What about your roommate Zoey? Surely you aren’t spending Christmas alone?”

You are but for some reason you don’t want Ina to know that so you give Ina a teasingly smile and retort, “wouldn’t you like to know?” Ina huffs, her cold breath clouds out of her mouth as she does, and you can’t help but smile. “So what are you doing here professor?”

Ina gazes at you, a calculating look on her face, and you can almost feel her building the walls around you, but as the intensity of your gaze darkens, Ina sharply inhales before running a hand through her hair.

“Lexi decided to crash my Christmas Eve party and try to parade me around my colleagues like I’m some trophy she’s just won.” At the mention of Lexi you feel your blood beginning to boil, that try hard wouldn’t know what’s good for Ina even if it slapped her in the face, and with how arrogant she acts, you would just love to give her a nice slap on her stupid face. Ina glances over to see your fists balled up and places a sweet hand on yours, her fingers gently rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles. “Something the matter?” You see the amusement glistening in her eyes which just frustrates you more.

“No.”

“Are you sure,” she playfully asks, and you feel the walls she put up before, crashing down as she teases you.

“Lexi needs to get a job and stay away from you,” you grumble.

“She’s a renowned anthropologist.”

You sigh, “no, it’s a saying.” You relax your hand opening it up and Ina slips her hand into yours, fingers intertwining. You’re not sure if she’s purposely done it or not. “Enough about Lexi, I don’t want to hear about her anymore than I have to.”

Ina flashes you a wide grin, “and what do you suppose we do?”

“It’s Christmas Eve, why don’t we live a little?” You gently tug Ina towards you, her slender fingers tightening against your hand even more. “It’s my first Christmas in New York, why don’t you show me around?”

“Okay, but be warned this won’t be an ordinary tour, where we go to the conventional places every other tourist goes. I’m going to give you the full New York experience.” Ina’s gaze darkens and just as the air surrounding the two of you begins to feel dense with anticipation, she pulls you out of your trance as she trudges along the soft snow begins to cover the ground.

Ina first takes you to a food stand where she orders apple pie nachos for you to share

“What the hell is apple pie nachos?”

“You’re about to find out.”

The vendor hands Ina a box and she slips a $20 bill in his tip box and places her hand on the small of your back to guide you away from the stall as other customers begin to order. You look at Ina as if she’s heaven sent, your heart unable to take the softness overload of this woman.

Ina licks her thumb after opening the box and raises a confused eyebrow at you, “what?”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a saint?”

Ina lets out a small laugh as she hands you the box, “everyone could use something extra during the holiday.”

You take the box, your fingers brushing against hers as you do, “so this is the famous apple pie nachos?” You inhale the sweetness of the food, your entire body going into sensory overload just by the smell of the cooked apple infiltrating your nose. You lift up one of the nacho pieces and all but moan when you crunch into the apples, “oh my god this is heaven.” Ina watches you eat, as her gaze drifts down to your lips and when you catch you, you catch her cheeks dusting with red. “You want a bite?” You take a piece of the nachos and hold your hand out to her, inviting her to have a taste. Ina leans forward, her eyes never leaving yours as she wraps her lips around the piece of food and all makes a satisfied groan and she relishes in the taste.

“Mmm.” You feel transfixed by the way her tongue darts out to lick the glaze on her lips, unable to look away. Ina’s lips quirk up a little and you feel like it’s your turn to be flushing red. Once you finish the box you look at the time on your phone.

“Don’t you think it’s getting late? You should be getting home.” You try and hide the sadness that’s lurking in your tone. Ina’s eyes search yours, before she gives you a small smile.

“Why would I leave now when I haven’t even shown you the best part?” You feel your heart doing somersaults as Ina’s hand finds yours once again and she pulls you into a cab and whisks you away to an unknown place.

…

“Trust me Bea, it will be worth it.” You trudge behind Ina, your legs beginning to burn as you walk up a secluded hill, you mentally groan and berate yourself for not being fitter but you don’t mind the view of Ina’s ass in front of you and she effortlessly ambles up the hill. “Almost there.”

Once you reach the top you triumphantly cheer, your legs slumping over as you sit on the slope of the hill looking out to the rest of New York, the brightness of the christmas lights glowing every inch of the town.

“Wow.” You breathlessly say as Ina sits next to you, your legs brushing together.

“Wow indeed.” Ina wistfully gazes at the town, her eyes contemplative. You bask in the silence for a few moments, reflecting back on the night you’ve had so far with Ina. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her so free, so careless. Ina breaks the silence, when she speaks her voice is low and soft.

“Charlotte loves christmas, so does Lillian.” You hum as you recollect the time Ina told you about her sister and niece, you remember the cheerful glint in her eyes as she told you about the time she took her niece to a theme park. “Sometimes Lillian gets mad when I place work over her, but sometimes I have to sacrifice things for the sake of my career.” In your peripheral vision you see her eyes move to yours, filled with sadness and longing. She sighs dolefully before speaking out again. “It’s why I love Christmas so much, it gives me an excuse to be with my family and put them first no matter what.”

“Ina?” Ina hums in response. “If spending Christmas with your family is so important, why are you here with me right now?” You gaze up at her, anticipating her answer. You see a smile ghost around her lips as she meets your eyes, her brown eyes glistening under the reflection of the lights, “because we should all have some company during the holidays. I can’t imagine how you’ve been feeling without your family.”

You nonchalantly shrug, trying too hard not to think about being away from them, “it is what it is I guess. I can’t control the weather. But thank you Ina. Tonight was great.”

“Bea,” your name escapes her lips in a breathy fashion, “I know that this,” she gestures between the two of you, “is unconventional to say the least. But you must know I,” she pauses, her eyebrows furrowed together as she looks away from you, unable to finish her sentence.

You cup her chin, bringing her gaze back on yours, “I know Ina. Let’s just forget about everything else tonight. Right now we’re just two people with a connection we can’t ignore.”

“Right,” she nervously chews on her bottom lip before leaning down, capturing your lips in a soft and slow kiss. Before she can pull away, you lean in more, your hands hooking around her neck as you draw her in closer, the kiss becoming more fuelled as she slips her tongue into yours and you involuntarily moan. You enjoy the sensation of her lips on yours for a few more moments before pulling apart resting your forehead against hers. “Merry Christmas Ina.”

“Merry Christmas Bea.”

#playchoices #queen b #ina x mc #ina kingsley #request #hope you enjoy!!!

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gracereadstoomanybooks · 4 years ago

Text

answering questions I’ve been asked on TikTok✨

QUESTION: how did you get into reading?

So, when I was in middle school (many moons ago) we had this thing called AR Testing. Basically, you read a book and take a test on it—the questions were things that happened in the book, it was really simple. If you got a good grade, you got points. The more points you earned, the more eligible you were for the reading party at the end of each semester. Me, being the nerd I am, got top of my class because I went through 8th grade level books like it was nothing. The librarian at my school brought me books from the high school to read since everything was easy for me, and alas, my addiction began. And now that I have adult money, it’s a true addiction. Also, telling my father “I’m bored” and his response being, “go read a book or something” so thanks dad.

QUESTION: what’s one book you ALWAYS recommend to people?

This one is tough because I’ve read THOUSANDS of books, but if I had to choose one, it would probably be Confess by Colleen Hoover. I fell in love with her work in high school when I first read Ugly Love, but Confess is the type of book that pulls at your heart strings, y’all. It has everything people love: humor, sexual tension, drama, love. GO BUY THE DAMN BOOK. Or honestly any book by Colleen Hoover—she’s a fucking amazing author.

QUESTION: outside of making TikToks, what do you do for a living?

I currently work at a restaurant and hate every second of it. If anyone tells you to become a server, DONT. It’s not worth the hassle, I promise you. Sure, you can make decent money but the amount of rude customers and shitty tips you receive each shift is very disheartening. If you really need a job, do anything BUT work in the food industry.

QUESTION: what’s your wattpad story about?

First question: which one? I have about 30 drafts sitting there waiting to be posted. But, I’m going to assume you’re talking about the Harry Styles fan fiction I’ve been working on for the past 4 years and haven’t had the courage to post. I’ll tell you a little about it: Elaine Aldridge is forced into a betrothal to a man she’s never met & loathes. She goes to his court and realizes things aren’t what they truly seem. And the guard her future husband sticks on her??? None other than Mr. Harry Styles. Add in some magic & deaths and you’ve got my story— The First Prince. (Honestly, that’s an extremely shitty description so if you wanna check it out go to my wattpad account)

QUESTION: how old are you?

Ahem. . . twenty-one.

QUESTION: what is your dream career?

Being a published author and having people rave about my books. That’s all. Or, an editor for a publishing company. Imagine reading all day and being paid for it🤩

QUESTION: what was your least favorite read of 2020?

I already KNOW I’m gonna get shit for this but....... the wicked king. YALL I LITERALLY COULDNT GET THROUGH IT IM SO SORRY, I STILL HAVENT FINISHED IT

QUESTION: current favorite author?

Sarah. J. Maas. I don’t know what it is about her writing style, but it’s addicting. Throne of Glass is hands down the best series I’ve ever read. A Court of Thorns and Roses is the first book I’ve EVER reread. Her stories truly suck you in and hold onto you—you get lost so easily in her writing and it’s like once you’re done with a series, nothing will compare. Or, at least that’s how I felt after finishing Kingdom of Ash. Honorable mentions: Jennifer L. Armentrout, Penelope Douglas, L.J Shen, Elle Kennedy and Kennedy Fox.

QUESTION: any recommendations/tips to give to a new reader?

I’ve always given this advice to people who want to get into reading: find what you like and start with that. If you like romance, I’ve got a list for you to choose from. Mystery? Another list. Sci-fi? I GOT YOU. Fantasy? Yes! Sports fiction? It might take me a second but I’ll find you a book. Nonfiction? I’m zero help in that category, honestly. The point of the matter is that you’re never going to enjoy a book if you aren’t interested in the underlying topics.

QUESTION: do you ever find yourself comparing your life to fictional life?

Yes. All the time. I daydream about being apart of the Inner Circle and living in Terrasen with Aelin and Rowan. I think about what it would be like to have real powers and a mate. It drives my boyfriend crazy—but he loves me anyway.

QUESTION: what are your most anticipated books of 2021?

Here’s a list:

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

The Crown of Gilded Bones by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Gods and Monsters by Shelby Mahurin

Crescent City 2 (Untitled) by Sarah J. Maas

A Vow So Bold and Deadly by Brigid Kemmerer (I just ordered this one & it arrives tomorrow)

Blessed Monsters by Emily A. Duncan

QUESTION: why did you start a Tumblr?

Honestly, I used to love tumblr when I was in grade school (way too young to be on here then but what else is new). I like having an extra space to get my questions and comments out without having to compress it into a 60 second video for TikTok to see. Tumblr is a good place to blog & post things like this.

QUESTION: what’s your favorite song right now?

I’ve listened to Carry You by Novo Amor every day for the past two months and I cry each time.

QUESTION: why write Harry Styles fan fiction?

Simple: I love Harry Styles. I’ve been a fan of him and One Direction since they were on X FACTOR. Read that again. X. Factor. I used to watch their performances on YouTube before WMYB even came out. Of course, I love all of the 1D boys but I was always a Harry gal. And I look up to him in a way—I’ve read things about people wishing they knew him personally and honestly? I would never want to meet him. I like the version of him I’ve cooked up in my brain over the past 10 years. I like the symbiotic relationship I have with his music. Fine Line is a ✨masterpiece✨. HS1 is a ✨work of art✨.

now, some topics I’ve been asked way too many times and want to finally get to:

QUESTION: political views?

the saying “anyone but trump” has been in my brain for the past four years. No, I’m not a republican. No, I’m not a democrat. I like to think of myself as a progressive (ahem, liberal) Did I vote for a democratic candidate? Yes, and I’d do it again and again until the US isn’t one of the worst countries—I’m sorry, businesses— to be apart of. I wanted Bernie but got Biden, and I’m alright with that. And my girl Kamala🥳

QUESTION: how did you feel about the BLM protests?

I went to multiple BLM protests and donated a lot of funds to BLM & other organizations. It’s 2021, people... stop being fucking RACIST. And don’t be afraid to call racist people out! Black Lives Matter, even if no one is posting about it anymore.

QUESTION: thoughts on abortion?

your body your choice, queen! not my uterus, not my problem.

QUESTION: there was a comment on an old video of yours talking about r*pe, why did you delete the comment?

I made a video when I first started my account on TikTok about reading in public and feeling “turned on” by it. Go watch it if you don’t know what I’m talking about. BUT, some ignorant male decided to comment and say “this is how girls get r*ped”. Whew. So. I deleted the comment because ....

I am a victim of sexual assault. Along with a lot of other women. 1 in 5 women have been victims of sexual assault. Talking about being r*ped isn’t funny.

No one else needed to see his comment. I reported it immediately and his account was shut down.

I never got justice for what happened to me, and the fact that some random male—who had never even met me or seen me before my video showed up on his FYP—had the nerve to comment that? Unacceptable.

this question isn’t as controversial but

QUESTION: what’s the best way to get out of a toxic relationship?

okay, let me just start off by saying that the people around you who love and support you are going to be your backbone. Leaving a toxic situation is hard, and every situation is different, but my best piece of advice to offer you is don’t be afraid to ask for help. Your loved ones are going to be there for you when you need them, even if you don’t believe they will. If you explain what’s happening, someone you know and love will drop whatever it is their doing to make sure you get out safely. good luck my babes.

now, back to our regularly scheduled program:

QUESTION: any tips on making tiktoks?

Literally none. I post what I think is funny and relatable and if anyone agrees, I’m satisfied. Even if it’s one view, it’s good enough for me. So I guess my one tip is to not base your life off of an app and followers.

QUESTION: favorite Harry Styles fanfic?

DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE. Duplicity is up there, along with Stall 1&2, and Kiwi. After? Absolutely not.

QUESTION: favorite WEBTOON?

y’all already KNOW. LORE OLYMPUS BY USEDBANDAID. Rachel is a genius and I have reread the series a million times. Hades is my soulmate and Apollo can rot in the fiery pits of the Underworld. also, if we’re talking about other webcomics, reading Walk on Water on mangadex...🤫

QUESTION: favorite movie?

Howls Moving Castle. I will be getting my “a heart is a heavy burden” tattoo very very soon.

QUESTION: I read your Elain theory on tumblr, can you explain a little more?

I thought I was pretty straightforward but I’ll say it again: she is always the “good” one and it’s too suspicious. SJM has already given one Archeron sister a happy ending, Nesta’s is obviously inevitable, but Elain? She has too many options for a happy ending. Lucien, who is her “mate”. Azriel, who is intrigued by her slightly. Her human guy—I don’t remember his name—who is disgusted that she’s not human anymore. Or, alone, planting flowers all day. BUT! My point is that she’s not truly happy. She was forced into the Cauldron just like Nesta. She was ripped away from the life she loved so dearly and didn’t want to give up. The man she was going to marry now hates her guts because she’s a High Fae. She has the perfect set up for a villain plot line and I’m all here for it.

well, that’s all I feel like doing tonight. hope you enjoyed my little q&a! be kind, and talk to you later! byeeee!

#a court of silver flames #acotar #harry styles #one direction #sarah j maas #throne of glass #wattpad #tiktok #elain archeron #howls moving castle #lore olympus #q&a time #walk on water #persephone #lore olympus hades

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propertyofwicked · 5 years ago

Text

a-z of dating will schofield

(ive kept blake alive bcos im not a monster, and he has sisters rather than daughters :) ) pls request more for me to write i am bored of my half term lol

a- argue

both of you are fairly neutral people, so you rarely have arguments of significance. when you do however, the aftermath can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days - both of you too stubborn to admit your faults so resorting to silent treatment. the periods of silence ended when one of you couldn’t take it anymore, usually him. he would approach you when you were pre-occupied, take you in his arms and whisper an apology. if that didn’t work, he would begin telling bad jokes, refusing to let you go until you cracked even the smallest of smiles.

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

will loves your lips. on the one hand, he loves when your whole face lights up in laughter, or perks up with a smile. he loves seeing your lips curl up into a small grin whenever you see him across the street or when you share a look from across busy rooms. on the other hand, he loves how your lips fit perfectly with his. when you get intimate, he loves how they wrap around him and he loves when they fall open to let out the bliss sound of your moans.

c - care (how you care for each other when you’re sick)

when will is ill, he’ll pretend it’s nothing and continue working himself beyond his ability. it’s almost your job to make sure that when he’s ill, he remains in bed - or at least the house - in order for you to keep an eye on him and make sure he stays hydrated and well fed. when you’re ill, he will stay with you as much as he can. before he has to go to work, he’ll place a glass of water and medication next to your bed and put soup into a pot, ready for you to just heat it up when you needed it. when he comes home, he’ll come straight up to you and wrap you in his arms, peppering your face in kisses. he didn’t care if he too got ill - it just meant more time with you.

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

you and will weren’t a typically outgoing couple, whilst you both came from money and could afford to splash out - neither of you wanted to. you’d rather stay at home, curled up on a sofa, humming along softly to the murmurs of a record playing softly in the background. he’d play with the rings that adorned your fingers whilst he listened to you talk about anything that came to mind. you listened to him talk, sometimes he’d tell stories of his time in the war - maybe he’d recount something he’d seen or something that blake had told him in passing, he did love to tell stories after all. when you did go all out, it was to celebrate anniversaries or birthdays, and even then, it was a dinner and then a walk home, gazing at the stars.

e - engagement (how he proposed)

it was on your 7 year anniversary, sometime in early 1922, and you go to a local restaurant to celebrate. something feels different though. as you walked in holding hands, his became clammy and throughout conversation at dinner, he stumbled over his words and found it hard to stay on one topic for more than 5 minutes at a time. on the walk home he takes you down a different street and says he “just wants to show you something”. without questioning him, you follow him and end up at the bench you first met. it wouldn’t be will, if he hadn’t planned out a long speech that built up to the final question but in his stress manage to forget it and resort to just going on one knee and smiling up at you, “i love you, will you marry me?”

f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)

his family adores you. his younger sisters loved to have someone to talk to and someone to braid their hair whilst their big brother was away at war. whilst he was away, his mother loved to have you other for dinner, desperate to have anything the remind her of her son. his dad and you weren’t massively close but there was an aspect of mutual respect. you had many mutual friends as you grew up in the same area, attending local schools and all of them were obviously delighted to see their two friends happy with each other. your parents adored him too, he was the son they never had whilst also being the best thing to walk into your life.

g - gifts

will loved to shower you in gifts. they were only little but they were something so deeply special to you. it was weekly flowers, that he’d buy on his way back from work, or maybe a punnet of cherries from the green grocers - he was whipped and you were equally.

h - how you met

you met when you were 17 and he was 18 in 1915. your town had been holding a small travelling festival consisting of a circus and fun little game stalls. your friends had insisted you go, as it may be your only chance. they didn’t mention though, that whilst there they would be meeting their boyfriends - leaving you alone, wondering around admiring the lights. in your meandering, you bumped into the dusty blond who stood as good head above you. in doing so, you knocked the toffee apple out of his hand, and insisted on buying him a new one with the the remainder of the 10 bob your dad had given you on the way out. you spent the rest of the evening sat on a bench, talking about the stars that shon above until your friends turned up to take you home.

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down?)

despite his shy outer shell, william schofield was not afraid to show you loving almost every day. can’t sleep? hungry? need to go shopping? this man does not care. if you need anything, he’ll give it to you and god does he know how to work his way around that bedroom.

j - jealousy

your’re both the jealous type, but not the type to make a public show about it. the pent out anger is usually taken out behind doors if you get what i mean ;) when will gets jealous, he makes sure you know by squeezing your hand harder or moving it over to graze the top of your thigh and he’d play with the ends of you hair. you’re more discreet about it, maybe getting a little argumentative with whoever is making you jealous.

k - kinks

william schofield - king of praising. he loves to hear you call out his name as much as he likes to make you. if he could spend all day making you shake, he would.

l - long distance

whilst will was away at war, things got hard. despite only being together 6 months when he left, it was like a piece of you had been torn away, and you spent every day praying for his safe return. but when he did come back on leave, it wasn’t the same as you knew he’d had to leave again and the risk of never seeing him again got more prevalent. sending letters was always hard, often he’d find the small marks where ink had bled from your tears, his heart shutting down to repress his own feelings. his letters went from happy to bland. no emotion, just vague descriptions of his days, his meals - nothing about him and how he was doing. so when the war did finally end and he came back to you, he returned to being the will you had grown to love.

m - moving in

towards the beginning of the war, you had received a letter from will declaring how the moment he came home, he wanted to make a woman out of you. so when the war finally ended 4 years later, and he returned, the first thing you two did was go on the hunt for a smallish house. you opted to move more into the city as the jobs and travel was considerably better. living together was a dream, though you had to adjust to each others bad habits, and being young and living together meant you had the constant questionings as to when you would start a family of your own.

n - nights out

ofcourse, living in closer to the city provided you with better opportunities for nightlife. friday nights were dancing nights. you two, your friends and partners and whichever girl tom picked up that week would all stumble down to the dance hall and spend hours, drunk dancing to the likes of marrison harris, only to return home at early hours and pass out on the living room floor.

o - open with each other

at the start of your relationship, will and you were very open with each other, discussing your boundaries and respecting them as such. you would talk about everything, from friends to family to school. but after the war, will became a closed door - refusing to talk about anything that happened whilst he was away, you respected this but wished he’d open up the slightest, just to be able to connect to him in anyway. after a few months, he became the same man he was before he left, just more mature - a look that really suited him. in his months of silence, you opted to fill this by just talking non stop, anything the provoke a reaction. and you’ll never forget when he had not said a word for 3 days after returning and whispered a quick “i love you” as you fell asleep that night.

p - pda

neither of you were big on over-the-top pda, choosing to just hold hands or accept slight pecks. affection was saved for a private environment around only each other or very close friends. although in crowded areas, will would stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you securely.

q - questions (what you talk about late at night)

it’s 3am, you can’t sleep, so you roll over and stare will in the face until one eye peaks open.

“yeah?” he mumbles sleepily.

“do you love me?”

“mhm”

“no say it”

“i love you, now go to sleep, it’s 3am”

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

you’ve always wanted kids, knowing that you grew up mostly alone as a single child. will had also wanted children until he saw what war could do to a child. he feared that he would be putting a potential son at risk by just simply creating him. it took a lot of convincing to retrieve will from the mindset he had fallen trap to, but he eventually did come around to the idea of having his own little family to protect.

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

he was really bold when you got to know him well enough. on the surface and to people who had not spoken to him, will seemed like a quiet but wise soul. one getting to know him, anyone could realise that he had the sense of humour of a champ and was really outgoing. often, being around tom brought this out in him, challenging to ridiculous games of drunk darts in a dingy pub.

t - together (what you do together)

you just vibe together. sometimes you cook together, other times you sing or you dance along with the wireless - him twirling you around the kitchen was a favourite of his. sometimes you’d read together or to each other and other times you’d go out dancing till early hours of the morning.

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

will and tom were hell to reckon with alone, but when alcohol was thrown into the mix it became a harder battle. you’d opted out of going out one night after a long, tiresome day. this led you to be left to deal with two fully grown men, giggling like school girls in your living room at 2am. will refused to sleep till he had gotten a kiss and tom refused until he was tucked into to bed and sang a nursery rhyme. but quite frankly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

v - vacations

at it was only the 1920′s, you guys tended not to go abroad. instead you travelled the country, hiking in the peak district and swimming in the sea at cornwall.

w - wedding

you had a small wedding service, attended by family and close friends - and it was absolutely perfect. the service was followed by an evening of dancing and drinking alongside the people you loved most.

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

it was almost impossible for a man to return from war unharmed, which left will with a weak left hand from a bad experience with barbed wired and then the carcus of a man. some days, it would get so bad, that he was unable to lift a glass in that hand, and on the days, you’d remind him that you were there to help whenever he needed it. whether that meant giving him medication or ringing a doctor, he was constantly reminded of the love you had for him.

y - you (a random headcannon)

will had left early that morning, saying he’d be home late and not to wait up. you didn’t question it, as often he would travel for his job or go for drinks with tom. for some reason that night you couldn’t sleep without him, so took out his shirt and held it close to you, managing to fall asleep comforted by the smell of him. what a sight that was, for him to walk in a few hours later and find you curled up with his shirt. he had never been more in love with you than at this precise moment.

z - zzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

you’d be in bed first most nights, after bathing away that days dirt. will would emerge at the bedroom door half an hour later, in just a towel, to gaze at you absorbed into a book and oblivious to his presence. he’d put on his pyjamas and climb in next to you, his arm find his way under your back. this way he was able to pull you in and rest your head on his chest. he’d press a kiss to the top of your head, then tilt your chin up to connect your lips together in a sweet kiss.

#1917 #george mackay #dean charles chapman #tom blake #will schofield #will schofield x reader #will schofield imagine #sam mendes #tom blake x reader #tom blake imagine #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #a-z #this is shit im so sorry ahaha

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afterthelastreset · 4 years ago

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Rules Of One’s Soul Ch 12 A Little Offer P2

(mak belongs to @wasted-church )

"He was rude!"

"He was probably having a bad day. Everyone gets cranky. Hehe. Of course he might even be more cranky once he realizes you took that diamond. "

"He was mean to me....Shiny diamonds mine now!"

The cat chuckled and leaned back in the cushioned armchair as he watched the small child make their way around the room carrying an armfull of trinkets and jewelry they had collected overtime, the newest addition being the decent sized diamond they had somehow snuck out of the glass case from the Hip Shop. The earlier altercation mustve given them enough time to sneak it away. To be honest he was kinda worried about the duke at this point and that was saying alot since he hasn't really worried about anything since Jevil's imprisonment over a hundred years ago, but I digress. Maybe it was because of the whole soul connection or maybe anyone looking as crazy and desperate as the duke was would send anyone worrisome vibes. He shrugged at the thought. It didn't matter. It wasn't any of his business to begin with. If the Duke wished to eat..eck!..worms and candy for the rest of his time off and avoid him for the rest of his life, well then there was nothing he could really do about it. A small pang of sadness rang out in him from his soul at the thought but he shrugged that off. Wasn't really his place really any ways. Jevil was the one to find him first....But then again-

A small smirk appeared on his face. What fun would a game with Jevil be if he gave up this early into the game? It WAS the most fun he's had in a while, but you see there were many ways to play the game. One way were to force your way to the finish line and push your way onto the goal with a few tricks, much like Jevil. Or one could patiently wait for an opportunity and gently but smartly nudge your victory forward to a checkmate. He just had to wait if or when his next turn comes to him....Or a certain worm noble.

The mere thought of the high life stuck up duke on his hands and knees digging around for worms of all things made him chuckle now that the whole ordeal was behind them. He didn't remember the last time he laughed so much. It was fun watching the Duke's strange ways. One moment he was acting like a holier than thou stick in the mud and the next like a confused pup. And a few times a scared mouse. It was quite a sight really-

A small clatter of metal and glass sounded out as Mak clambered up one of the shelves by the fireplace. They disappeared somewhere at the top and didn't come out for a while after. But soon after popped their head back out again.

"Im hungry!"

"You just ate breakfast an hour ago."

"Im hungry again!"

Seam sighed before shaking his head. "Young ones. I will never understand their bottomless appetite."

"Get me food?"

He sighed and slowly leaned away from the softness of the armchair before standing up to his feet. Just as he turned towards the child to ask what they wanted, the familiar flap of the sheap entrance caught his atttention. His ear twitched to the sound and a chuckle escaped his lips. He turned towards the door with a smile like hes always had. Though he was certainly not expecting a visit this soon, but just in case it wasn't really him-

"I really wasn't expecting customers today, Ill be out in a moment!"

"WORM!!", A voice shrilled from the front. Seam smiled knowingly and began his way to the store front," Thou willst commeth out this instant! I shan't be kept waiting for the likes of you!"

He chuckled more as he pulled back the curtain. "I was expecting you, but Im not sure I can wrestle the diamond away....from.."

He stopped in his tracks at the sight before him. Staring back at him wasn't a duke at all. What was staring back at him was an honest to lightner regular-ish looking worm man. He wore the same scowling face as the duke he knew, but this man had his glittering white hair tied back in a messy bun with stray strands drapping around that scowling face. Surpringly he wore no fancy suit, just a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a dark blue pair of pants. He had to blink a couple times to actually register the sight before him but really focused when Rouxls cleaed his throat.

"Art thou done gawking at mine presence, Worm?"

"Uh....Sure. I just wasn't expecting you so soon...and in such.." He ran his one eye over him again. "Er...Common suit?"

Rouxls scoffed before rolling his eyes and pointing a hand at his face. "I came likest this-" He gestured to himself, "- to not ruin mine good wardrobe whilst in thine dust infected den."

"Oh. Then Ill be right back."

Rouxls gave him a questioning look. "Where art thou going?"

"Well I suppose you want the diamond back."

"What art thou speaking of? I have no need for nay diamond."

"Oh?"

Rouxls rolled his eyes again before pointing down towards the floor. Seam had to lean over the counter to see. By his feet was a decent sized bucket filled with what could only be described as Cleaning supplies and array of sponges and rags alike. He stood there silently for a moment before chuckling again and looking back up at the worm man.

"So you decided to actually take up my offer?"

He huffed. "Only because I amst in desperate needs of funds for mineself. Not because I needs thou's help."

In reality, it really was because he desperately didn't want to be stuck eating worms and fat inducing candy for a whole nother week. Buuuut in order to do that it would require for Seam to help him. Starving hinself was an option but hed rather not hurt himself before actually being able to get back to Lancer. His boy didn't need to see his lesser father desperate and a pile of bones. This was all for Lancer....It definitely didn't have anything to do with the way his soul kept thumping at the mere smile of the raggedy cat in front of him. Or his chuckling. Or the fact that the old cat may have been a pain but actually was the only one thus far to offer any help what so ever-

STUPID SOUL!! Stop!!

Seam chuckled but was glad none the less that the duke had decided to accept his offer."Of course not. "

"Good! Now thou shall standeth aside and lettest me do mine work!"

With a chuckle Seam gestured to the shop area before them and smiled. "It's all yours my friend. But please, mind the wares. Some are more old and brittle like myself."

"*hmph* Just keepest thineself and that little beast out of mine way!" He huffed and reached down to grab the bucket, but paused for a moment before looking back to the cat with a questioning look. "Speaking of which, where is that little menace?"

"Oh, Mak? They're probably eating that candy stash again-"

"N-Nay! I meaneth thee.." His eyes glanced around real quick. "-other one."

"Oh. You mean Jevil?" Rouxls gave a grimace and he chuckled. "You don't have to worry about him. He leaves early in the morning and doesn't return until almost eight o'clock.Hehe. Most likely entertaining the prince. By the speed in which you do things, I think you don't have to worry too much." He mumbled something to himself but went back to the supplies and picked them up. Seam tilted his head at him- "Would you like a hand there, friend?"

"Yes actually. Thou needs to vacate thine area immediately! I shant have any distractions!"

Seam hummed. "Are you kicking me out of my home? Isn't that illegal to do Duke?,

Rouxls shot him an annoyed look at the question. "Worm! I can't have thee waltzing around thine home whilst I cleanest it!"

"You're cleaning my whole home? I-...I hadn't really intended on that. Just the sheap front will suffice-"

"NAY!" The bucket was slapped down onto the counter making it's contents shuffled around inside it. A blue hand was pointed at his face inches away from his nose. "If I amst to clean mine mate's home correctly then thou art to gettest out until I amst finished. I tire of thine home's foul smell."

The cat didnt even flinch but instead remained frozen for a moment as the blue man still stood there staring intently at him. For a few seconds neither moved, that was until Seam blinked and slowly gave a chuckle. Making Rouxls raise an eyebrow.

"What tis thou fining so funny?"

"Oh nothing. I just wonder."

"About....what?"

A sly smile snuck across his face and he chuckled again. "Oh nothing you should worry about. But I do wonder what I should do in the mean time? Not alot for me to do anynore."

Rouxls groaned before placing one hand on the bucket. "I shant care." He then grabbed it into his arms. "Just leaveth and stay somewhere else whilst I getteth this over with."

"Are you sure about that statement?"

"Yes! Doth thou wantest me to do this or art thou stalling for amusement?"

Seam held his paws up in defence at the duke's angered and annoyed face. "Ok. Hold on one moment. Mak might be convinced by something, makes my job easier-"

"Yes, yes." Rouxls waved him off dismissively as he turned his attention to the rest of the, in his words, sloppy excuse of a home let alone a shop. He made a disgusted look not even trying to hide the fact of what he was thinking. "How can thou stand this filth?"

There wasn't an answer as Seam had already left for the back, leaving Rouxls to grumble to himself. It wasn't too long before the tall cat came out from the back with the small bat child floating about him. The two gave the already busy duke mumbling to himself and Seam had to grab the child as they reached their hands out for the shining white mass of hair-

"No. That's not what I meant."

"But I want the shiny stuff-"

"Not that." Rouxls gave a questioning look over his shoulder just as Seam was moving the bat creature over to his other side, before placing them down and nudging them towards the store exit. "Now run off and behave yourself."

Rouxls watched as with a huff the child stomped their way off to the front. The tent like cover making a flapping noise as they left. With a sigh Seam turned to the worm still staring at him.

"I dont suppose you would be willing to let me help you-"

"Uh...N-Nay! I wantest to finish and leaveth as soon as possible!" He again pointed to the door. "Now if thou please."

"Ok. I get the picture. But if you should change your mind-"

"Yes, yes." He waved off the notion and turned back to his work. "Leaveth mineself to thine peace worm!"

Seam chuckled again before turning his own body to the door, but not leaving without relaying a past notion. "Very well. Then I leave you to cleaning your 'mate's' home duke."

Rouxls mumbled to himself again but paused and turned to look back at the cat just as he ducked out the door. Leaving a mildly bewildered duke.

#seam x jevil #jevil x seam #jevil x rouxls #rouxls x jevil #rouxls kaard x seam #rouxls x seam #rouxls kaard x jevil #Nosuit #seaxls #rouxlvil #rouxvil #jeam #seavil #Deltarune #Rouxls Kaard #Jevil #Seam

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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Curtains - Part 5

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x F!Reader

Summery: First two dates, you and Roger move on

Warnings: Smut (18+), dealing with Emotions, smoking, car sex, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), (slightly hesitant) dom!Rog

Words: 6872

A/N: Originally I planned chapter 5 to be the last one but some stuff changed from my original plan and it ended up getting waaaaaaayyyy too long so there’ll be a chapter 6 lmao. The Morris Mini Roger drives in this was a car he actually owned (it’s in the photo and everything)

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe @lnnuend0 @funitrog

You changed your outfit about sixteen times before you settled on the right one. It had actually been the first one you chose – a dress you were sure Roger had never seen you in before – but you’d had to rule out everything else you owned before you could be sure, or rather, before you could feel less anxious about the decision. You were determined to look your best and to make sure he evening was fun, even though the nerves twisting in your stomach made you want to pick up the phone and cancel again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, it was just the pressure of it all. Everything that had happened between you and Roger felt like a lead up to this date. Like a great big drumroll building and building until he knocked on your door. And you couldn’t help feeling like there was a big chance you were going to fuck it up, probably for good. So, one by one you held your clothes up in front of the mirror and one by one you added them to the absolutely not pile, discarding them for reasons big and small – too uncomfortable, too hard to get in to, too much a colour Roger didn’t like. The pile of clothes deemed not good enough had steadily grown larger as you added outfit after outfit – this one was too slutty, this one not slutty enough, and this one was something your mother would have suggested and therefore a definite no. Until eventually you’d been left with the dress you originally pulled out and a sense of satisfaction with your choice. Despite the urge to throw up you felt at the knock on the door, the decision was made even more satisfying when Roger took one look at you and whistled. “You ready to go?” “Yeah just let me grab my bag,” “Not tempted to cancel again?” he winked as he asked so you knew he was joking but it still made you cringe. “Do you start all your first dates trying to make the girl feel as guilty as possible?” “Only the good ones. C’mon,” He took your hand and led you out towards a 60s Morris Mini that was parked on the street between your units. “No van tonight?” “Of course not,” he said as he opened the door for you, “you didn’t think that was my main ride, right?” he closed the door behind you, shooting you a disbelieving look through the windshield as he ran round to his door. “Well it’s the only one I’ve ever seen you in,” “No, this is my baby,” he lovingly tapped the dashboard as he started the engine, “The van I just got to lug around stage equipment. Couldn’t fit a drumkit in here.” “No you could not,” you laughed, taking in the small interior of the car. “Hey, don’t laugh at her. She was a gift from my mum when I moved up here.” “Sorry, just not the car I pictured you in. It’s cute though.” “She is a bit small actually. Very hard to get a girl into the back.” “Might have to ask for proof later,” Roger looked over at you briefly before looking back at the road, “I’m just gonna say this now and get it out of the way so I don’t make this date too awkward later on, but,” he paused and took a deep breath that only made the nerves twist your stomach into knots, “we don’t have to have sex tonight. If you want to take this slow or you want to set some boundaries to start it’s okay, I’d understand.” You smiled at him as he glanced back over again. His thoughtfulness as least helped ease your lingering worries about his sincerity about dating you, “Thank you. But you don’t have to like take a vow of chastity to prove you’re for real or anything.” “Because if you did want to wait, I’d get it,” “Rog, relax. Let’s just see how tonight goes okay? Besides,” you laughed, “sex might make things feel more normal.” “I’m happy to do anything to help make it more normal. If that means sneaking into the restaurant bathroom with you then so be it.” After that you fell into an easy conversation, your nerves almost reduced to those you’d feel on any other first date.

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look tonight?” Roger said softly as he pulled your chair out for you. The restaurant was small though by no means empty, other tables holding other dates as well as a family or two. A few of the other people looked familiar, other students you’d seen around campus or the pub, and you quickly realised this was the go-to spot for a fairly cheap date. Nice enough to impress but not enough to break the bank. “I was going to pay you the same complement. I think this might be the first time I’ve seen you in something other than those ratty jeans.” “Oi, don’t hear me insulting your wardrobe. And I wear plenty of other stuff.” “Mmm you do, I must admit I’m a little jealous of your collection. I just have one question, and stop me if this is rude, but how the fuck can you afford so much?” Roger chuckled and, looking around for eavesdroppers, crooked his finger so you’d lean it, “That’s my secret though, love, I can’t,” he sat back in his chair, comfortably relaxed, “They’re all nicked from the stall.” You did your best to ignore the flip your stomach did at the sound of the pet name, “The one you and Freddie run? Kensington, right?” “Did Fred mention it?” “Yeah, th- the night we all hung out in the van he told me about it,” you hoped Roger would ignore your slight stutter at the memory of what had happened after that night, “Said I should drop by if I got the chance.” “You should!” Your conversation was briefly interrupted by the waiter, another familiar face you were sure you’d seen around campus, coming to take your order. “What was I saying?” Roger asked once you’d ordered, “Oh wait I remember! The markets are great fun even if you’re working there. Plus, I’m sure I could find you something to buy off us.” “That desperate for sales you’ll shill to your friends?” “Of course. Easier marks since they care whether we can afford food.” he laughed, “no but you should come. I could take you if you want? As long as you don’t mind being called on to help sell a thing or two.” “Sounds like fun.” “That's settled then, you can come watch me work.” “Second date sorted then?” “Believe me, as fun as the markets are, I would not be taking you there as a second date. For one thing Fred’d be there the whole time and I’m not so keen on a third wheel so early on.”

Your waiter returned with the bottle of wine Roger had ordered and a promise the food would be out shortly. “So, Rog,” you said as he poured you a glass, “Tell me about yourself. Y’know, considering how much time we’ve been together, I don’t really know much more about you than your name.” “What do you want to know?” You paused, unconsciously sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pondered the question, “I don’t know. Everything,” “Is that one of your first date moves? The slight lean forward so he can see down your top, the lip bite, the everything?” Roger’s imitation of you fell into laughter. "Do people actually have moves? I’m just curious,” “I’ll take that as a complement then. Where to start though...” There was barely a pause to your conversation. The only disruptions came in the form of your meals arriving, and moments when you both pulled yourself away from talking long enough to remember to take a bite. Otherwise one of you was always in the middle of a thought. He took your words to heart, telling you about his family and his friends and his studies and his band and anything you hadn’t covered in the time you’d already known each other, which was admittedly quite a lot. And it seemed that for every anecdote Roger shared you were called upon to share one of your own, his interest in you equal to yours in his. It was an easier first date than you could have possibly imagined, awkward silences replaced by curious questions, discomfort replaced by familiarity, leaving you both trying to time sips of your drinks for moments when you weren’t likely to spit it out as you fell into another round of laughter.

“So,” Roger said as he led you back out of the restaurant, leaving the waiter to clear away the empty plate from your shared dessert, “be honest, was it as terrible as you thought it would be?” “No,” you said with a huff of sheepish laughter, “I’m happy to say I had a really lovely night. Feel like even more of a knob for the whole cancelling thing but I’m glad I eventually got my shit together.” “Me too. Smoke?” he offered you the pack he’d dug out of his pocket but you waved him off, pushing yourself to sit on the hood of his car as he dug in his pocket for his lighter. He held it long enough to take two drags before you were taking it from his fingers and pulling on it yourself. “Hey, I offered you one,” “I didn’t want a whole one, just a puff or two, here look you can have it back,” he took it off you, stepping between your legs, eyes locked on yours as he put it between his lips again. To your surprise he stubbed it out under his foot as he breathed out the smoke. “What a waste! If you didn’t want it I could’ve taken it,” Roger smiled at you as he leaned in close. You could taste the smoke on his breath as he kissed you, softly, his hands resting on your thighs. “Was that okay?” he was still leaning in close. “Rog,” you said sternly, “stop asking if I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere,” to prove it you placed your arms over his shoulders, pulling him into another kiss, deeper and longer. It seemed to be convincing enough, his hands slipping up until they were on your waist pulling you against him. The skirt of your dress was askew, pushed out of place as his hands rose further up your body, exposing the top of your thigh. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop for longer than it took to take another breath, hungry for more. Heedless of passersby, on their way to the restaurant or heading back to their cars. Your hands began to wander, sliding back over Roger’s shoulders, deceptively muscular from years of drumming, and down onto his chest. The buttons of his shirt pressed into your palm, daring you to undo them. “Think I’d like to see that backseat now,” you panted against his lips, toying with his top button, able to feel his breath as he sighed. “Told you, backseat’s too small,” “Well you could always come back to mine,”

He drove you home, moving his hand from the gear stick to your thigh whenever he could, and pulled back up in the same spot you’d found the car when you left, opening your door for you once again. There was something oddly domestic about the way Roger took your bag as you fumbled getting the key into the lock, following you inside. It made your chest feel tight, the slightly sick nervous feeling rearing its head again. “Do you want a drink?” you asked, already reaching for your wine glasses. Roger’s seemed distracted as he turned to face you, his gaze pulled away from the doorway to your room, “Uh, think I’ll pass,” “Alright,” you shrugged, putting one glass back “hope you don't mind if I have one anyway,” “Actually, I think I’m going to get going,” The slightly sick feeling only got stronger, “Oh. Okay then,” had you misread the situation? “I had a really great time tonight,” he said as he took your hand, “Just...don’t want to rush anything, y’know?” “Okay. Do you, um, do you wanna go out again?" “How about Thursday night? I’d say earlier but I’ve got a couple late classes and then some sessions with the band.” “Thursday sounds good.” “Cool, I’ll see you then.” He kissed you once more before he left. You could hear his footsteps as he walked the short distance to his front door, while you sat in your quiet kitchen trying to work out what Roger had meant by not rushing anything. Your whole relationship was essentially built on rushing things. The first time you’d spoken he’d had his hand under your skirt and within minutes he’d been in your bed. Now he was worried about it? And talk about mixed signals. Between his comments about the backseat that was practically an invitation to climb on back there and his assurance that you didn’t have to have sex which almost sounded like he was trying to convince you not to, and the way he’d kissed you and kept touching your thigh and then decided to leave, you felt like you had whiplash. It made you feel anxious, going over every moment to try and figure him out as you lay in bed and worried that things would never quite be okay between you.

Luckily you didn’t have much time to dwell on it during the week. Your classes were starting to ramp up towards exams and you found yourself being bombarded with topics to revise in preparation. A few times you saw Roger around and each time brought a twinge of uncertainty that kind of made you want to throw up, but it was always pushed from your mind fairy quickly, replaced by only marginally less puke-inducing thoughts about studying. In fact, you barely had a moment to think about your second date before Thursday evening arrived and Roger was once again knocking on your door. During a very brief conversation you’d had upon bumping into each other between classes, he’d advised you to dress casually, so he found you in jeans and t-shirt. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt, learning from previous mistakes, but you couldn’t be certain how he’d react to it. Would he teasingly scald you for not dressing casually enough or would he pull you into a public bathroom again? Jeans were the far easier option. Plus it made it that little bit harder for him to get into your pants if that was what he wanted, and you kind of liked the idea of making him work for it.

When Roger pulled into the carpark behind the pub you looked at him with raised eyebrows, the now familiar sick feeling only getting stronger, “Really? Here?” “C’mon it’ll be fun. We had fun last time,” Last time when everyone at the bar had heard you moaning for him. Last time when you’d hung out in his van. Last time right before you’d made an arse of yourself and almost ruined everything. Roger must have sensed your hesitation because he put a reassuring hand on your knee, “Y/N?” “It’s fine, I’m being stupid,” you shook your head and pulled a smile onto your face. “Are you sure? We can go somewhere else if you want,” “I’m sure. Last time was very fun,” Roger looked at you for a moment longer but you were already opening the door and climbing out of the car. He hurried to follow, lacing his fingers through yours and giving your hand an encouraging squeeze. It felt easier once you were sat together at a small table off to the side of the room, a drink in front of each of you. You let yourself relax into your conversation, laughing at Roger’s jokes and becoming enraptured with the way he spoke. By the time the band came on stage you’d almost forgotten your earlier discomfort, happy to just sit with Roger and watch them play. Especially when he beckoned you to pull your chair closer to his, allegedly so you could see the stage better, though it also gave him the opportunity to wrap and arm around your waist. “What d’you think of them?” he asked suddenly, leaning towards your ear so you could hear better. “The band? They’re okay I guess,” “Would you say Queen is better?” “These guys don’t even come close,” “Correct answer,” he winked at you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face towards him. You sighed against his lips as he kissed you softly. “This drummer is especially unimpressive. Nowhere near as talented as Queen’s. Or as cute,” “Someone’s playing for the top prize,” “Mmhmm, did I win?” He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand resting on your knee, which you took as a yes. Slowly he began sliding his hand up your thigh. You shifted in your seat, turning your body to face him more, though he kept you from crossing your legs, pawing at your over your jeans. A small, quiet moan escaped you as he pressed the seam of your jeans against your clit and you felt Roger smile. He grew tired of not touching you properly though, deftly undoing your fly and wriggling his fingers under the waistband of your underpants. “Funny how often we end up here,” his voice was quiet enough that only you could hear him, yet practically demanding your full attention, “what’s the rule?” “I don’t know,” you half whined as Roger toyed with your clit. “Eyes on me, yes?” “Yes,” it took some effort but you managed to force your eyes open and bring them to rest on his face. “Good girl. You know why I want you looking at me?” You shook your head, biting your lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly. “There are two reasons. Number one, I don’t want you getting distracted worrying about who can see you. And two, I like watching your face. The way you get that pleading look in your eyes, almost begging me not to stop.” he paused, “Y’know this’d be easier if you’d worn a skirt. Which I’m fairy sure I’ve said to you before,” “D’you wanna find somewhere a little more private and help me out of these jeans then?” Roger’s finger stopped their motion and he tugged his hand free, “As tempting as that is, might be better if we head off.” “Head off like, go back to mine and spend the rest of the night together?” “I more meant... head off and go home to our own separate beds.” “Oh-kay,” you said slowly, trying to work out what you’d done wrong as he took your hand and led you back out into the warm night air. You were halfway across the carpark when you spoke up, “Why?” “Why what?” “Why do you want to go home already?” “I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” “Do you?” you dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes. Why would I lie about class?” “I don’t know Roger. But you’ve been so fucking hot and cold with me I don’t really know what to think. Seriously though, what the fuck is your problem? Like one minute you’re inviting me into the backseat of your car and then next you’re saying you don’t want to rush things. You’ll touch my thigh, you’ll finger me under the fucking table but the minute I suggest we actually have sex you back off again!” “I know. I’m just...” he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a loose stone across the carpark. “Nervous. After what happened last time. The screaming match and the -” he broke off, biting his lip but you knew what he meant. You softened at his worried expression, “Rog, I’ve told you already that wasn’t your fault. I’m the one that started it.” “Yeah but I was way too rough with you that night. I could have hurt you, I did hurt you.” “I think your forgetting the scratches I left you with,” “That’s different. The way I choked you I could have done actual damage. And then there was the – the other part,” “Is this what things are going to be like from now on?” “What?” “Is that whole fight going to infect every interaction we have? Every time I’m reminded of it I feel awful and embarrassed and guilty, and I can’t help but panic. You keep pulling away because of a bad angry fuck. What if we never get past it properly? What if we can’t?” He kicked at the gravel again, not making eye contact, “No, I think we can. The moments when we’re talking and I forget about everything else that happened are really good. I just think it’ll take a bit of time to completely move on.” “What happened to putting it behind us?” “Easier said than done,” he shrugged, “Come on, we can talk about it more in the car.” You nodded and followed though you weren’t really paying attention. Instead you were going over everything in your head, trying to find a solution. Just waiting it out wasn’t good enough. There was too much uncertainty and doubt. You needed to do something. Something that would put Roger’s mind at ease about potentially hurting you and fix the discomfort you felt. Roger opened the door for you but you didn’t get in. “Y/N?” “We need to have sex.” “We literally just went over this,” “No, I know, but we need to. I said it on our first date and played it off as a joke but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. Sex would make things feel more normal.” Roger just looked at you. “Think about it Rog. Our whole relationship was built on it. Our very first interaction was you seeing me masturbate and then finding me here,” you pointed at the building behind you, “and fingering me in a room full of strangers. It wasn’t until after we’d slept together a few times that we actually like, talked properly.” “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N, I do. Fuck I want to, but...” “I get it,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours and gently rubbing your thumb over his skin, “But it won’t be like last time.” There was silence for a few moments as Roger considered but then he nodded, “Okay, yeah. Um... hop in and we’ll go back to yours.” “There’s a perfectly fine car here, why drive all that way?” "Privacy maybe?” “Rog, since when have we cared about being in public? “Touché. But I meant what I said before about the lack of space. Might wanna take your pants off before you get inside.” “You first,” “No need to be so suspicious, was your idea remember,” but he kicked his pants off all the same, throwing them into the drivers seat followed by his underwear, “I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to go balls out behind the pub,” Roger said as he folded the front seat forward. “Didn’t really take much,” you looked around to double check for any peeping toms before quickly pulling off your own jeans. They joined Roger’s, though unlike him, you kept your underpants on, “besides, I heard about you losing that bet and running starkers around the block, I know you’re not shy about this sort of thing.” “Losing a bet is losing a bet. I knew the cost and I paid it,” “Yes well, apparently that bet and sorting this,” you waved your hands between you, “this mess out, have the same cost,” “A cost you’ve noticeably not payed,” “Don’t worry, I’ll get there. But there’s something I want to do first.” Roger looked confused until you kneeled at his feet, “Woah, love,” “I’m pretty sure I owe you a blowjob, remember?” “I remember, but here? That gravel can’t be comfortable.” “It’s fine, it won’t last long.” “Excuse you but I think we both know I can last.” The end of his argument was lost in a gasp as you wrapped your hand around his length and squeezed just a little, smiling at his instant reaction. Without another word you looked up at him and took him in your mouth, sucking until he groaned, his hand flying out to brace himself against the roof of the car. You bobbed up and down, gradually taking him deeper, until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You pulled back off him, sliding your hand over his length, spreading your saliva out. And then you were back on him, though not taking him quite so deep, pumping your hand over what you couldn’t reach, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to draw more pretty noises from him. “Y/N, love,” You hummed in response, earning another groan and his fist banging on the roof of the car twice. “Jesus, I know I said I could last longer, but I swear to god if you keep this up, I won't,” You pulled back and smiled at him, “Isn’t that kind of the point?” “‘Spose so,” “Besides, we’re in the middle of a carpark and I’m kneeling on gravel. Think I’d prefer this to be over a little bit quicker,” That made him laugh, covering his mouth so as not to attract any attention from a gaggle of people exiting the bar and jumping into a car, “I told you it’d be uncomfortable,” You hadn’t explicitly said it and you had no idea if Roger realised, but there was a sense of apology in your actions. Modern day self-flagellation, though perhaps that wasn’t a good metaphor since you were quite enjoying yourself despite the stones pressing into your knees. But in your mind, this made things more even, went some way to erasing the awkwardness and discomfort you’d created. And that spurred you on, made you want to give him a good performance. “Quiet, smarty pants and let me get back to it,” He gave you a go on then wave with one hand, “was only warning you in-n case you – fuck,” Roger’s head fell forward as he moaned and you picked up the pace, mouth and hand moving in tandem to push him over the edge. Thankfully no one was around to hear him as he moaned, knuckles white where he held onto the car, hips jerking as you milked his cock. “In case I what?” you asked swiping at the corner of your mouth with your thumb, as a precaution. “I was going to say, in case you were planning on riding me before I came, but it’s a bit late for that now,” “Little bit,” you held out your hand so he could help pull you to your feet, dusting off the gravel still stuck to your knees as soon as you were up, “you still want to do this?” “More than ever, just give me like a minute,” “Sure, you know how much I love standing around in public half naked,” “Take your knickers off and we can talk about half naked. How are your knees?” “They’re fine,” “Good,” he stepped in close, trapping you between himself and the open car door. Your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers sliding into your underwear again. To any observers crossing the carpark on the way to or from the bar you would have appeared a regular loved up couple, stealing a kiss before you got in the car and drove away. At least, until they walked behind you and saw Roger’s bare arse and your spread legs. Not that you would have noticed if someone had walked by, much too caught up in how Roger’s fingers felt working their way into you, stretching you out. “Aren’t you just a filthy little slut,” “Only when you’re around.”

Roger wrenched his fingers free of your pussy, and stepped back half a step, holding his arm out towards the interior of the car, “Ladies first,” You’re just saying that to get a look at my bum,” you laughed, but you climbed inside all the same, pulling your shirt off as Roger followed and slammed the door behind him. In seconds he was reaching for you again, finding your lips again. It felt nice to be wrapped up in him once more, his touch lighter than it had been in the past, remnant concern manifesting physically. You placed your hands over his, giving him permission to be that little bit firmer as he lay you back, your head propped up against the wall behind you, taking a few seconds to look you over before he began rolling your underwear down your legs. “Wait, um, if you bend your knees for me,” he said, awkwardly trying to reposition himself to get them off your ankles. When he finally had them in his hand he slingshot them into the front seat, drawing a laugh from you. You let one leg fall to the floor as Roger pulled his shirt off, leaning forward so as not to punch the roof of the car. Once his shirt had been tossed aside he brought his hand back to your wet folds, running his fingers along you teasingly slowly. “Rog please,” “Love hearing you beg,” With a whine you readjusted yourself, scooting a little further back so more of your head rested against the wall, getting your neck into a slightly more comfortable position. He leaned over you in search of another hungry kiss but broke it off when you whimpered into his mouth. “Did I hurt you?” You shook your head, “just want you to fuck me already,” “Just, hang on love, give me a second,” he said as he tried to find a comfortable position. “Maybe if you move back a bit?” “My arse is already so close to the window I’m mooning anyone who looks this way,” You let out another laugh, “Can’t you just kneel on the seat?” “Not unless I want to bump my head. Can you move?” “Rog If I try to move back any further I may as well sit up,” “That could work,” he grabbed your arm and pulled you up so you could move across to straddle his lap. “Alright, just give me, shit-” your forehead whacked into Roger’s both of you swearing. You fell into another laughing fit as you landed on his lap, arms around his neck, though Roger wasn’t quite as amused. “God, are you okay?” he asked, pushing your hair back to examine the site of impact, “I told you it was small,” “Might not wanna say that while your dicks hanging out,” His eyes narrowed at you, “Yeah, you’re fine.” “Mmhmm, think this can work,” you wrapped your hand around Roger’s cock, making him hiss as you stroked him. You raised yourself onto your knees too fast and felt the top of your head collide with the roof of the car. “Oh Jesus bloody fuck,” you almost yelled, dropping back down straight away and rubbing the top of your head. “Christ Y/N,” Roger said getting you to look down so he could see the top of your head, “that sounded bad.” You rubbed the spot you'd hit, “It’s nothing,” “That’s it, I’m taking you home. We gotta get some ice on it.” “I’m fine,” “Y/N, it’s a head injury,” “It’s a bump Rog, nothing serious,” “It could be serious. I study biology, I know how fucking fragile the skull can be.” You sighed and lay a hand on his cheek, “Roger, I’m okay. This is not a sign from the universe or anything like that. It’s a small bump because I want you so bad.” “You sure you don’t want me to get some ice?” “Oh I am much too horny for that,” Roger still looked a little concerned but he chuckled along with you and dropped his hands to your waist, “you’ll let me know if you want to stop?” “You know I will.”

Going slower, taking a little more care, you tried to mount him again, managing it without injury. Roger still seemed wary, his hold on you lighter than you wanted but once again you placed your hands over his, pressing on his fingers until he tightened his grip. Gradually you began rolling your hips against his, letting out small hums and tempting moans against his neck as you leaned in to leave a trail of kisses and grazed teeth. Roger was biting the inside of his cheek as if he were trying to keep himself under control, lest he go too far. He hadn’t been afraid to let his domineering side show while he was just using his fingers, but now that things had progressed, and in the wake of your self-inflicted head knock, he seemed to be holding back again. It wasn’t what you needed. “C’mon Rog,” you whined between sucking at his neck, “grab me properly. Slap me, pinch me, use me. Want you to show me what needy whores like me are good for.” He swallowed audibly, fingers twitching against you as you clenched down on his cock. “Got so turned on inside, hearing you call me a good girl. And I was so close to cumming just from your fingers,” you changed the motion of your hips, drawing a gasp from Roger. “That’s because you’re a slut who likes getting off in front of an audience,” his grasp still wasn’t hard enough, though he was clearly getting more comfortable and more eager to take charge the longer you talked, your steadily swiveling hips riling him up. “Your slut.” Roger growled. One of his hands left your hip to swat at your arse, and then it was back, his grasp firm enough to hold you still, “Enough. I know you’re desperate for me to use you again but we’ve got a problem,” he laced his fingers in your hair and tugged your head back, “Because you’re so fucking needy and couldn’t wait the ten minutes it would have taken to get home we’re here, where there isn’t enough space to do everything I want to do to you. Now, if you really want me to use you, I could always push you to the floor and fuck your mouth. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you stopped when I hit the back of your throat. Maybe it’s time I taught you how to suck dick like a proper whore.” You whined and tried to rock your hips but he pulled on your hair again. “Keep still.” “Sorry,” He raised his eyebrow and waited another moment before he continued, “I could do that. But I like being in your cunt too much. So instead, you’re going to ride me properly. No more of these teasing little rocking movements. You’re going to put those knees of yours to work and ride me, show me you can be obedient even when you’re on top. If you do well enough, I might let you cum.” He bucked his hips, a signal for you to get to it. Bracing your hands on his chest you raised yourself up and dropped down onto his cock, careful not to hit your head again, steadily building your rhythm. “Good girl,” he said softly, sliding his hands up your sides and around to your breasts. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, disrupting the rhythm you’d found which earned you a sharp spank and a warning to keep going. It didn’t help when Roger began talking again, whispering a filthy stream of consciousness monologue to you that covered every possible topic from the way your tits felt in his hands to why your neck looked better covered in his teeth marks to how much he loved being buried so fucking deep in your cunt, and everything in between. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning as he laid claim to every inch of you with his words and his hands and his lips. The feeling only grew when you heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the window followed by Roger’s hitched laugh. “Jesus, the way you just clenched on me. You really do like an audience, don’t you?” All you could do was whine, the need to cum only getting stronger as you repeatedly impaled yourself on him. “Go on, love, give them a show,” he spanked you again, pushing a moan from your throat and you wondered if the person who’d whistled was hanging around to listen in. You held onto Roger tighter as he raised his hips to meet yours, both of you chasing release. You were done for when he dropped his fingers to your clit, holding out long enough to hear him breathlessly order you to cum. He followed quickly, squeezing your hips again, as you collapsed against his chest.

When you found the energy, you climbed off his lap and fell into the seat beside him, stretching your legs as much as you could in the limited space. Roger leaned towards the door, winding the fogged-up window down an inch to let some fresh air into the car, before he sat back and threw an arm around you, pulling you against his side. “Was that good?” he mumbled into your hair. “Brilliant. Told you there was nothing to worry about. Quite like it when you get all rough, really.” “I know. Couldn’t help worrying though, could I? I really like you, didn’t want to scare you off,” he said it casually but from how you were leaning against him you could feel his heart racing, your own speeding up too. You pulled away from him, just far enough that you could properly see his face, “I like you too Rog.” The shy smile you’d offered turned into a fully-fledged grin, the expression mirrored on his face, as he kissed you again. “Does this mean we’re all good?” you asked when he finally let you go, “no more weirdness?” “I can’t promise no more weirdness but definitely less. And I’m more than happy to keep sleeping with you until it's gone,” You giggled, head falling into the crook of his neck, “maybe not in the car again though.” “I’ll bring the van next time, give us a bit more room,” he bumped your shoulder playfully with his, “don’t want you hitting your head every time you get too impatient to wait,” “Ooh next time? You got any ideas?” you asked, reaching to grab your shirt and throw Roger his. “Like what we’re gonna do?” he paused as he pulled his shirt on, “Not really. Exam preps kinda taken over my brain. Only came up with coming here last minute,” You laughed as he scrunched his nose up and leaned forward to retrieve the rest of your clothes, “let me guess...close and cheap?” “Pretty much. Hey!” “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’ve got a cute bum,” “No need to pinch it!” he laughed, throwing your jeans at you, "Think I better take you home before you get any more ideas,” “Yeah alright, can’t sit here half-dressed forever. Chuck us my knickers would you?” Roger threw the underpants at you, laughing as he watched you wriggle back into them. Carefully he opened the door, sticking his head out to check the coast was clear before he climbed out and hurriedly pulled his jeans on. You did the same, trying to be as quick as possible, while Roger put the front seat back into position and went round to the driver's side.

The drive back to your street was comfortable, his hand again falling to your knee whenever it wasn’t on the gear stick, but this time there was no question of what it meant. You were still laughing at a joke he’d made when he walked you to your front door. “You wanna come in? I could make you a coffee if you want?” “I would but, early class.” “Oh yeah, forgot about that. You know, you live right next door though, could stay for a couple of hours at least. Or just stay the night and then jump the fence in the morning.” “I can’t believe I’m about to turn you down but I really can’t. I swear most days I’d say fuck the class but with the exams so close I can’t afford to miss it. And I know if I did stay, I wouldn’t want to leave.” “I get it. I should probably crack open a book before I turn in anyway,” “I’ll talk to you soon though, okay?” “Yeah, okay,” Roger wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug before laying a soft goodnight kiss against your lips. “You better go or else I’m going to ask you to stay again.” “G’night. And put some ice on that bump before you go to bed, okay?” “Goodnight Roger.”

#my writing #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #ya'll im so tired and i have no idea if this is any good #but i've been farting around with it for too long #i wanted to get it posted three days ago #but fuck me i guess #anyway #hopefully i can pull chapter 6 together relatively quickly #and get it posted before the end of the year #gonna try and get a few more of the 1k requests posted soon too

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silke-doomflare · 4 years ago

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A fateful encounter

Valentione’s day had always been one of Lareine’s favorite festivals, but this year she was somewhat disappointed. After a long, loud argument from both sides, Varg had let her drop her duties at the manor and travel to Gridania. Lareine had asked Varg to join her, but he had stated most of festivals to be just claptrap and waste of time. Lareine had asked Arsene too, but he had politely declined and also mentioned something about jobs undone.

She had never, ever seen either of them having fun! Did they even, ever? If not, how it was even possible? Lareine was certain if one didn’t party hard time to time, they’d eventually get sick from too much work or go crazy without themselves even noticing. She would definitely need some help in softening them, she thought. It took way too much time to do alone.

It was already getting late, but it didn’t slow down the celebrators. Colorful fireworks dappled the black sky and lanterns were kindled. Some of them were sent flying and some sailing. Every place was full of beautiful colors, delicious food and good music.

Most of Lareine’s money had gone to airship tickets, but she still had a couple of gil left. She ended up buying a stick with cotton candy on it from one of the stalls. Where would she get money from to get back to Ishgard? No point worrying about it now. Time to party! She wouldn’t let some stiff old men ruin her fun.

Lareine was wandering around the faire, watching people come and go. Everyone else had someone with them. People had either come there with their spouses, dates, family or friends. She seemed to be the only one by herself.

Like cherry on the top of her jealousy was the damned love labyrinth. People who entered had to go through the labyrinth without straying too far from each other, while dodging moogle traps. When they got through, their names were announced to the cheering crowd nearby, and they also got cute prizes to take home: heart shaped cakes, cookies, pink ribbons, plushies… Gods damn it, what Lareine wouldn’t have given for a pink mammet toy with a heart shaped tuft on her night desk?

Suddenly Lareine bumped into something - or someone, she thought to herself, when she heard another surprised, high-pitched cry in addition to her own. She was too slow to grab a better hold of her pink cotton candy, and she could almost see the horrendous situation in slow motion, as her precious delicacy fell towards the sandy, partly muddy ground. There was a soft thud, and she noticed strawberry soft ice with marshmallows in it, laying at her feet next to her cotton candy. Shocked, Lareine lifted her gaze from the ground to in front of her, and was staring into huge, turquoise eyes framed by ash black, messy hair and round eyeglasses. The otherwise cute, bookwormish appearance didn’t fit at all with long, black, high-heeled thighboots and detailed, pompous looking robe usually worn by archmages. The female viera didn’t seem many years younger than Lareine was. “How dare you?! Look what you did!” she screamed, pointing at Lareine with a pale, petite hand with long, black claws and pretentious, huge ring in its index finger. “Watch where you’re walking!” Lareine inhaled deeply. “Get a new fockin’ pair o’ glasses, four-eyes, and watch where yer goin’! Tha heck ya doin’ ‘ere alone aniway??” she cried loudly with as unattractive voice as she possibly could whatever happened to pop up into her mind. “Yer boyfriend left ya, because yer a such a clumsy fockin’ shite? Ya lost ‘im into da heckin’ labyrinth, ya blind excuse for a friggin’ ‘little miss moonshine?!” They both fell silent for a moment, during which the viera’s facial expressions shifted very fast. First she looked aghast, then furious, then suddenly, distinctively accidentally jubilant, and finally annoyed for letting herself slip. They both burst into hysterical laughter at the same time. Lareine wasn’t even sure what they were laughing at, but she guessed eventually they were just laughing at each other laughing. Finally the viera managed to gather her self control enough to stop giggling and wiped a tear from her eye. Some passers by were eyeing at them disapprovingly, but she didn’t seem to care. “Oh gods…”, she blurted and briefly examined her clothing, probably making sure there was no ice-cream in it. “You sound like a vulture.” Lareine opened her mouth and was very close to start yelling again, but then the viera added, grinning kindly: “They’re my favorite birds.” Lareine closed her mouth, while the viera took a step closer and offered her hand. “Silke Doomflare”, she introduced herself, trying to sound formal, but her huge, beautiful doe eyes and extravagant make-up watered it down quite effectively. They shook hands. “I’m so, so sorry about my outburst”, Silke started to explain, while shaking Lareine’s hand very rapidly. “You know, I’ve had the absolute, worst day ever… actually the worst week ever and this was my first chance in ages to have some fun, and then…” She shook her head. “But you’re absolutely right. I should’ve watched where I’m going. And I mean, pff, it’s just ice-cream”, she made a dismissive gesture with her other hand. “I can just buy a new one.” Finally Silke noticed she had forgotten they were still holding hands, and she quickly yanked it away like she had just gotten electrocuted. Lareine blinked at the fuzzing viera in front of her. A weird sensation washed over her. Was it the suddenly died outburst? Or the huge, pretty doe eyes behind those round glasses? Or this weird girl holding her hand? Lareine had not felt like this since… “N… No, I should ‘ave watched where I go”, Lareine confessed. “I was lost in mi thoughts. It’s been friggin’ ages since my last visit to any public happenin’. Name’s Ir... Uhh... Lareine, by tha way. Lareine Kira.” The name brought a sour taste on the viera’s tongue, but what could she do? Better safe than sorry.

Would it have been inappropriate to shake hands again? Lareine scolded herself for even thinking about it.

“I dink I spent mi last gil onto dat friggin’ sweet, but whutever”, she continued. “I’m gettin’ an overdose o’ sugar o’ dese decorations and lovebirds all over da place anyway.” Lareine put her hands behind her back and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “So.. DID ya lose yer boyfriendo into da friggin’ maze?” Silke stared at Lareine in disbelief, blinked her eyes for a few times and then gave an incredulous laugh. “Honey, please”, she said, while making the dismissive gesture with her hand again. “I’m way too busy with my magick studies to waste my precious time on boys. Besides, they mostly just manage to annoy me. You know, most of them I’ve met…”, she lowered her voice into a whisper. “…have their brain down there.” She pointed somewhere towards the ground. “And I really enjoy the old-fashioned, functioning brain more than -” Suddenly she closed her mouth so quickly Lareine could hear a faint snap. “Oh gods, I sound like a zombie!” Lareine could almost see into Silke’s head, how it was cramped full of old, dusty bookshelves. Silke wasn’t quite sure where things were stored, and when she tried to take something from the dangerously swaying pile, a bunch of others also fell out. “I’ve been holding you back for a good while already, Lareine”, Silke noted finally, interrupting Lareine’s thoughts. “Allow me at least to buy a new cotton candy for you before I go.” “N-no need”, Lareine exclaimed, shaking her head and lifting her hands in front of her. “Like I said, I already ‘ad an overdose o’ -” “Then allow me to give you money for something else you’d like -”, Silke was digging something up from her pocket. “N-no, I don’t wanna -”, Lareine tried to deter. “Take the damn money or I’ll throw it into the nearest lake!” Silke hissed, gently grabbed Lareine’s wrist and dropped a bunch of gil on her palm. The coins were so shiny they looked like brand new. The mage bowed politely and was about to turn to leave. “Actually..!” Lareine cried out. “Ya haven’t been ‘olding mi back, Silke. Quite the contrary! Tha main reason I was on such a bad mood was because I ‘ad to come ‘ere all alone. Tha only two I asked to come wid mi are soo fockin’ busy all tha time, damn married with deir works dey are…” Silke blinked again, looking surprised. Then she laughed. “Are you kidding me? I could’ve said that.” Lareine looked at her curiously, while she continued: “I also asked my sister to come with me here, and she, too, declined - surprise, surprise: because of work! So I came alone.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “Well, if ya insist -”, Lareine started and slipped the coins into her pocket. “Well, if I’m not disturbing -”, Silke started at the same time. They both fell silent, waiting for the other one to say their thing first. A stubborn smile tried to creep its way on Silke’s face. “Show me where the damn cotton candy shop is”, she ordered grandiloquently, while pointing randomly somewhere towards the crowd. “We go there first. And then we go to the ice-cream shop. And after that… hmm, do you happen to like games?”

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #viera #silke doomflare #iris ymir #stories

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Two Sides of the Coin (7)

Chapter 7: Comfort in the Midst of Irony | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 | Previous: Part 6 | Next: Part 8 | Masterlist

7 of ?

Cal had just gotten back out into the open and found the river that divides the town from the jungle where he came from. He knelt by the bank, scooping up cold freshwater and splashing it into his face, scraping himself clean off the sweat and dirt. He used the last handful of water to comb his scarlet hair using his bare fingers.

He finally crosses the bridge, upon his entrance into the town, he was greeted with the colors spread across from each end of the street, hollers of vendors and haggling buyers rung loud between the walls of the buildings. Stall owners gesture at Cal to at least look at their wares, he politely dismisses them as he passes them by.

“Be careful not to overheat your scanners, BD!” Cal beamed, knowing that the curious little BD-1 is going to scan everything left and right as they go.

“Woop, trill! Chirp.”

“Yeah, this place sure is pretty,”

“Boo! Trill, beep!”

“Oh, you meant Jidné? Yeah, she is kinda pretty,”

Cal wandered off farther into the town, the thought of the Force ripple and Jidné ran tirelessly around his mind. He recalled the nudging sensation that he’s gotten ever since he and the crew landed, then the feeling spiked when he discovered Jidné—more so when she took his hand to help her stand up. The image of her constantly flashed behind his eyes—the shy smile that responded to his awfully awkward one-liners and quips burned into his memory, the melody of her voice, and the way she moved with her lightsaber.

Looking back, he rarely—in fact, never—encountered another Padawan who wielded a purple blade. The only person he knew who did was Master Windu.

Cal found himself into a modest-looking pub, light instrumentals filled the establishment as its patrons chattered amongst themselves over their drinks. He regretted that he didn’t wear the kind of poncho that had a hood; fortunately for him, no one seemed to have noticed the boy come in the bar. Cal scanned the place and saw no sign of Stormtroopers doing patrol, he sighed in relief.

“Something mild,” he orders to the bartender.

While waiting for the bartender to work on it, Cal surveyed the place again—the cantina was filled with so many species that he couldn’t name them all. The humans were also bizarre-looking: cosmetic implants attached to certain parts of their bodies, hair dyed in outlandish colors that match or complement their facial tattoos, with matching makeup on their eyes and lips to boot—especially the women.

The bartender slid Cal’s glass towards him, to which the boy halted the sliding with the cushion of his palm. The first sip was always the strongest one, no matter the alcohol level, a hot sensation seared his palate; he smacked his tongue against the insides of his cheeks until the fizz leaves his mouth. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a Haxion Brood hunter and the HURID droid; before they’d spot him back, Cal slightly angled his body so the back of his head faces them—though it doesn’t help him much because his red hair was the only defining feature they know to identify him.

Cal scooted a bit closer next to a Talz, hoping that the size of the creature would shield him from the hunters’ sights. It worked, but only for a moment. He had to move quick. He left his glass half-empty, slipped a gold credit to the bartender, and attempts to vanish in the pub. Little did he know that the hunters noticed him turn his back to leave the bar; he sensed them following him, so he briskly walked towards the denser crowd to blend in and lose the hunters at the same time.

“There he is!” the human hunter pointed with his bionic hand.

Both hunters shouldered their way through the crowd in the marketplace, especially the HURID droid who practically plowed his way through the people—it’s highly likely that the people he’s shoved and push will have a bruise pop out of them any day after that—meanwhile, Cal was careful in going through the crowd, matching their pace, regretting some more that he didn’t wear the hooded type of poncho.

“Out of my way!” the HURID droid bellowed, pushing away a local who stumbled upon the stall he was browsing at.

Cal picked up his pace while continuously mumbling “Pardon me” and “Excuse me” to the people he shoulders through. When he got into a wide space, enough for him to run, he bolted through the market’s streets—it didn’t take long until he came across another wave of people filling the road. He didn’t slow down for that though, he continued to run, looking over his shoulder from time to time—as consequence, he bumped into a stranger as he ran and they stumbled to the ground together.

From the fall, the cowl revealed its owner to be Jidné.

“Cal?”

“Jidné?”

Jidné groaned as she rubbed the back of her head, Cal’s brain was going haywire—deciding whether to bolt away and miss Jidné or simply hide with her tagging along against her will.

“Where is he!?” the HURID droid roared, drowned amongst the crowd.

There was no time for questions, Cal chose the latter option that his brain made in the last minute. He snatched her wrist as soon as she sat up and dragged her along. They crawled towards a market stall, sitting into a tucked position as their backs hug the wooden planks that make up the kiosk’s wall.

“What’s going on?” Jidné whispered.

“Shh!”

Cal braced her with his entire arm, both of them huddled together to the dust—just so they’re in the same height as the short-fenced market stall. Jidné was startled with the entire rough-and-tumble but she immediately knew what Cal was trying to pull.

The stampeding footsteps of the Haxion Brood hunter and his HURID companion approached their spot, they stopped just a few inches past the stall; both the young Jedi and the bounty hunter stuck their backs against the wooden planks more—both youngsters were frozen in place as they couldn’t look away from their pursuers, Jidné’s eyes fixed on the two goons, the human hunter was scanning the area. Not waiting for that hunter to turn his head to their direction, Jidné clutched for Cal’s arm on her shoulder and then put all of her focus on using her ability.

“What was that?!” the hunter snarled, abruptly twirling to face Jidné and Cal’s general direction.

Cal’s felt his heart fall to his feet when he met eyes with the hunter, but it occurred to him that the hunter apparently cannot see them. He swears that he’s face-to-face with the Brood hunter right now! The hunter is literally one step away from him, he shuddered at how close he is with the enemy but the Brood agent isn’t doing anything.

Cal looked to his side and saw the steely expression in Jidné’s face, he felt her hand around his, she afforded a quick side-eye as she caught him staring at her—he was beginning to grasp that she was doing this.

“You see ‘im, Fazer?” asked the bruiser droid.

The human hunter, Fazer, squinted his eyes and panned that one empty nook right beside the market stall.

“Argh! Nah, probably just a vermin or somethin’ I heard,” he grumbled.

“He must’ve went that way!” the droid pointed to their direction up ahead and then darted through.

Soon the footsteps receded, Jidné didn’t remove her hand from Cal’s until there was no sight of that pair. She scrambled to her feet, still crouched to the same level as the market stalls, and then peeked out into the street while ignoring the startled locals looking between them and the two hunters running ahead.

“I think they’re gone,” she turned around to Cal, still seated on the dust, mouth gaped open as he still tried to comprehend what happened seconds ago.

“How did…?” he mumbled. It was so quiet that Jidné didn’t hear it as she checked out their surroundings.

“You seem like you have a knack for attracting trouble.”

“Yeah well, there’s a bounty on my head for being a Jedi. The group that’s after me isn’t exactly the friendliest bunch,”

Jidné bit her lip. The whole thing is so uncanny that it hurt her on the inside.

“Right,” she hummed as casually as she could.

When the coast was truly clear, Cal brought himself up his feet and dusted off the yellow sand that clumped on his jacket and pants.

“Sorry, I kinda dragged you in there for a moment,”

“Wait, did you think those Haxion goons were gonna come after me too—that’s why you pulled me in with you?”

“Yeah, I…” Cal was patting off the dust from his sleeve until it occurred to him, he jerked his head to face Jidné. “Wait. How’d you know they were Haxion?”

Oh fuck! Jidné’s conscience screamed so loud that her mouth nearly replicated the words.

“I had my own run-ins with them,” she shrugged her shoulders. She nodded at the alley on her left. “Come on, this way should be safer. Less open, more hidden.”

Jidné led Cal into the narrow annex of the main road, doors lined the walls—assuming that this was another residential area that sits behind the business establishments—and worked their way out of the crowded part of town.

“You got yourself into a bar fight or something?” Jidné blurted.

“No, I was just out to get a drink until I spotted them—I guess they spotted me when I was about to leave,”

“Sounds like you haven’t truly mastered the art of subtlety,” she clapped back.

“Hold on,” he pressed. “What was that just now?”

“The what?”

“That!” Cal gestures at the space behind him, but Jidné knew what he exactly meant. “You saw the hunter, he was literally right in front of us! But… he didn’t see us? That couldn’t be me—I’m sure as hell that that’s not me!”

Jidné was calm, completely the opposite definition of Cal’s hysteria. She sighed. There’s no escape for her with these kinds of questions again.

“I don’t think this is the best place to explain, don’t you think so too?” quipped the young hunter.

Cal surveyed the area, residents standing outside their homes—for reasons unknown—and children playing in the narrow annex with their balls and playthings laid out on the road. Some of the folks have already noticed the two of them standing awkwardly together by the wall.

“Alright, I suppose you lead the way then?”

“Just stay close,” she sternly instructed.

——————————————————–

The intricate network of roads, annexes, and alleys in the town of Ombari was confusing, but if one knew the landmarks and kept it in mind, then it would be easier to navigate through the town. Jidné and Cal passed through some intersections here and there, they were looking for a spot that wasn’t too crowded—a few people wouldn’t be a bother, Jidné only preferred to have less people around and Cal concurred with that.

Cal kept his questions to himself. As they go along, more and more questions pile up in his mind—particularly, questions about Jidné herself.

They found themselves in the base of the hill where the town was situated. There were more small-time businesses lining up the path just right in front of the main entrance, but farmers and tillers mostly resided at the stretch of landed where they had plotted their modest farms and vegetable gardens. Their harvests were already in display for those who wanted to buy, they were no different from the vendors in the town proper though—except the noise wasn’t a factor in their part.

“That spot by the riverbank looks okay,” Jidné nodded at her north, gesturing at the river gleaming underneath the afternoon sun.

She and Cal sat on the other side of the river, across the hill where they could observe the farmers till and plow their crops, underneath the shade of the trees that framed along the winding river.

Both of them were getting tired—or perhaps, fed up—with the same old silence that always hung heavily around them, no matter the space in between, it’s always there. Neither of them saw it a sign for either of them to start a conversation.

“So, about what happened back in the marketplace?” Cal prompted.

Jidné exhaled and prepared herself.

“Can you like… cloak anything or anyone?” he added.

“When you put it that way, yeah,” she looked at him in the eye, then her eyes wandered to her own hands. “At first, it was simply just activating and deactivating it—in a way—it was hard for little ol’ me that time. I was fresh out of the Initiate Trials back then.”

Cal didn’t avert his gaze from Jidné, he shifted between examining her hands and then to her whenever she spoke.

“But now that I’m older—even back then when I was still a Padawan—I learned how to wield it better. I can manipulate how transparent I want things or people to appear, whether they’d be as thin as smoke or as invisible as the air we breathe.”

“Do you really need to touch in order to make things almost or completely invisible?”

Jidné clenched her fist, “It makes it easier for me if I do, and the area of effect varies too. Not touching them but still focusing on my target can have them be under the influence of my Force Shroud, but only for a time. Whereas being in physical contact, it’s the same—except twice or thrice as better. It all boils down to a matter of distance, really.”

He let all of that information sink into him, trying to grasp how Jidné’s Force ability worked. It wasn’t difficult to understand, though he could imagine the possibilities if one could master such a power.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of another Jedi with an ability like that,”

“My master thought the same thing,” her tone became more somber at the memory.

Cal’s next question might be one of the most personal ones, but he had a feeling that his master might have known hers. Regardless, he put that question for another time—he figured it might have been a topic too heavy for her, considering that she was also a Jedi who must’ve lost everything.

And lost everything she did.

“So, you got anything special in you too, ginger?” she initiated.

Instead of using words, Cal searched for a target—any target. He spotted a pile of shards from earthenware that beached onto the shore of the river, hidden well between the reeds; he scooted closer to the shard pile and hovered his hand over it. Jidné watched and she could feel the slight ripple send out a weak shockwave and a gust of wind.

“These pots were used by farmers to ferment the grain and wheat into some kind of liquid. They collected water to continue the fermentation process, but some wild animals jumped on them and broke them,” Cal explained.

Impressed, Jidné flicked her eyebrows up at Cal, who seemed proud of his little demonstration and proved it with a smirk across his lips.

“I think I’ve read about a power like that a long time ago. You touch an object and you get a glimpse of its past… A Force Echo.”

“Exactly,”

“Interesting,” she hummed, a smile involuntarily curled along her lips.

For a moment, Jidné forgot that she was a bounty hunter. The feeling of having someone to connect with something familiar from a distant past was intoxicating. She and Cal continued to banter about topics that weren’t exactly correlated with one another—for instance, their own droids.

Jidné told Cal the story of finding ID-3 in a disposal bin. She was expertly vague in leaving out some details that could go unnoticed. She recalled the time when she took a look at ID, he was apparently still in tiptop shape—all he needed was a circuit wire replacement and a good power recharge.

“The poor thing wasn’t exactly given the right attention,” Jidné cooed, petting ID-3’s flat-topped head. “So I patched him and now he’s mine!”

“What else did you do to ID-3?”

“Oh, just added some little perks and tweaks that might come in handy sooner or later. The little saucer never failed me so far,”

The black droid chirped happily, absorbing all of the compliments that poured out of Jidné’s mouth and she truly meant them.

Cal and Jidné whiled away the afternoon bantering some more and letting their droids get to know with one another. This was one of the rare moments where Jidné allowed herself to let loose—although the moment was lighthearted and happy, she couldn’t ignore the irony that gleamed blindingly in front of her face: the irony that such comfort is coming from the exact person that she is hunting down.

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chaerrie-on-top · 4 years ago

Text

The Stars Aligned For Us

chapter 2

That night, Dahyun comes back to the apartment and finds her roommate on the couch. As Dahyun kicks her shoes off at the cubby at the entrance of the living room, she curiously glances over to the couch where Chaeyoung sits. Her legs are pulled up to her chest, with an intense stare casted at the cellphone in her small hands. An untouched box of Korean takeout food sits on the coffee table in front of her. Chaeyoung's face is as pale as a ghost as she looks at her phone, her lips jutted out a bit.

"Everything okay?" Dahyun asks as she slowly approaches her roommate. Chaeyoung shakes her head, and a silent tear rolls down her face. Dahyun sits beside her. "What happened?"

"Jisoo and I are in another fight," Chaeyoung explains. "He never understands my feelings; I feel like I'm talking to a wall half the time." Chaeyoung sighs and wipes her teary cheeks. "He invites me to his apartment, then plays games while I just sit there. I'm never his first thought..."

Dahyun frowns. "You deserve better, Chaeyoung."

"I know but... We've been dating for so long-- over two years. He was never like this before..."

Chaeyoung gives Dahyun a small smile, "Ah, I'm sorry for crying so suddenly." "Don't worry about it," Dahyun tells her. "Tell him how you feel. If he doesn't respect your feelings, then you need to move on. He isn't the right one for you."

Chaeyoung nods, "You're right. I'm gonna go call him," and with that she grabs her takeout container, stands up, then heads for the short hallway leading to her room. Chaeyoung turns and faces Dahyun for a brief moment, "I ordered some chicken and noodles for us to share. It's in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Oh, he's calling me!" with that, Chaeyoung turns and disappears down the hallway.

Dahyun calls over her shoulder, "Thank you!"

***

The next morning, Dahyun wakes up a bit earlier for her morning class to put some extra effort into her appearance. Miss Celestia gave her the gemstone to take home with her, the amethyst, and Dahyun had left it on her bedside table over night. Sitting up right in her bed, Dahyun picks up the pink stone and holds it in her hands. She glides her thumb over the smooth, shiny surface. She hopes that her wish comes true today (if it comes true at all).

After a quick shower and some coffee, Dahyun picks her outfit: high-waisted blue jeans with a few rips along the front of her legs, a cream colored silky puffy-sleeved shirt, and white tennis shoes. For her makeup, which she tends to skip whenever she has class, she goes for simple orangey eyeshadow and some mascara. She stands at the full-length mirror in her room, turning round and round as she critiques her outfit. Dahyun frowns as she starts to feel uglier the more she looks at herself. Finally, since she was going to a science lab today, she switches the pretty silk shirt for a cropped sweatshirt. This was a bit more in her comfort zone; she wouldn't stick out too much wearing this. She slings her bookbag onto her shoulders, plugs her earbuds into her phone, and starts out her way to class.

The weather is nice today; the rain stopped overnight and the clouds made way for the warm sun to shine over Seoul. Despite it being almost mid-fall, the weather significantly warmed up today. The ten minute walk to Dahyun's class was filled with a confusing mix of peace and anxiousness. Despite feeling pretty happy and excited for the day; she found herself scanning the students walking by, scanning for The One. No one stuck out to Dahyun, and she began to feel silly for ever thinking the wish actually came true. However, a small part of her still felt hopeful.

A few minutes later and Dahyun is in the classroom, approaching her table with a fast-beating heart. Her palms grow sweaty, which she wipes on her jeans. The way her science lab class was structured was that most of the work was done with your assigned tablemates. See, Dahyun didn't mind her tablemates, they were all fine.

Then Dahyun sees her; sitting there with her long silky brown hair and bright, fake smile on her face. You see, all of Dahyun's tablemates were fine except for Im Nayeon. She was really nice to everyone <i>but</i> Dahyun. Well, actually, Dahyun theorized that she was nice to people's faces but terrible behind their backs. Dahyun just happened to be an exception. Dahyun takes a seat in between Nayeon and one of the tablemates, Jihee. Across from the three girls sits Mina, Nayeon's best friend, and Jihoon, the only male in the group. Jihee smiles and greets Dahyun.

"Did you guys hear about the new exchange student?" Jihee asks. "She's from Japan. I heard she was joining our class."

"Ah, Mina you should see if you guys can communicate," Nayeon snorted. "Maybe you know her."

Mina rolls her eyes, "Nice try, Nayeon."

The weird thing about Nayeon was that Mina was completely harmless, a total sweetheart, so Dahyun had no idea why Mina chose to be friends with such a spiteful person. This area of Seoul, including the schools, was a really small, tightknit community. Everyone knew, or knew of, everyone. Dahyun had knew Nayeon and Mina since elementary school, when Mina had moved to Seoul from Japan with her parents. The three girls became really close, as Dahyun and Nayeon were the only students kind enough to stick around and play with Mina despite the language barrier. However, once high school came along a rift occurred between Dahyun and the two others. Nothing was ever the same.

Mina and Nayeon giggled among themselves, meanwhile Jihee turned to look at Dahyun. "Cute jeans," she said. "Where are they from?

"I dunno," Dahyun confessed. "My mom got them for me."

"Aw that's cute," Nayeon butts in. "I think it's really sweet that your mom still shops for you. Mine stopped doing that in middle school, but I guess you don't mind."

Mina giggles. "Leave her alone, Nayeon. I wear clothes my mom gifts me too."

Nayeon opens her mouth to say something, but the professor walks in with a girl following closely behind him. Dahyun turns her head to watch as the professor stands in the middle of the classroom, leading the girl with him. "Good morning everyone! We have a new student joining us today. She comes all the way from Japan to join our lovely school." He pauses, looks at the girl expectedly.

"Hi, my name is Sana. I look forward to being here: the campus is beautiful," She greets the class with a small bow. Her eyes brush over Dahyun, and the two find each other holding each other's gaze for a split extra second. Dahyun can't take her eyes off her, watching the way she confidently approaches her table after the professor tells her to join Dahyun's group. She takes a seat next to Mina, who now sits between Jihoon and Sana.

"Mina, speak in Japanese," Nayeon tells her as the table gathers their supplies to continue the experiment they had been working on last class.

"Nayeon, stop!" Mina laughs, her cheeks tinting pink from her best friend's embarrassing comments.

"Oh, you're Japanese? Where in Japan are you from?" Sana turns to Mina, smiling at her kindly. Sana nonchalantly gathers her chestnut brown hair and flips it over her shoulder, so that the long soft curls cascade down her back.

"Hair up ladies, we're dealing with chemicals here," the professor says as he walks by the table.

Nayeon groans, ties hers into a low bun and pulls out long strands to frame her face. However, obedient students Dahyun, Mina and Sana tie theirs back with no issue. "I'm from Kobe. I moved to Korea when I was a kid."

"Oh that's cool! I'm from Osaka."

"Nayeon, can you pour the vinegar?" Jihoon asks, pushing the glass beaker towards Nayeon. Nayeon reaches her hand towards the beaker, "So, Sana, your Korean is really good."

"Mhm!" Sana agrees. "My aunt lives her, so I speak Japanese and Korean fluently. I'm not perfect at Korean, but I've gotten better since living with my aunt."

nayeon nods along, listens to Sana talks as she goes to wrap her slim fingers around the beaker. However, Nayeon accidentally knocks the beaker over and right into Dahyun's lap. The entire table gasps aloud, with Nayeon already blubbering out a pathetic apology. The ruckus makes everyone turn and watch, the professor scrambling over to the table to make sure everything was okay. Nayeon bites her lip, an obvious smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she lies through her teeth. "Dahyun-ah, I'm so sorry."

"It was just vinegar," Jihoon tells the professor as he checks to make sure the acids and more dangerous liquids hadn't spilled.

Nayeon waves at her face and plugs her nose. "That's gonna smell."

Dahyun's cheeks burn red and she dismisses herself to go clean up. She speed walks out of the classroom and down the hall, cringing at the liquid seeping through her jeans. The uncomfortable fabric sticks to her thighs, making her walk with an awkward limp at the icky feeling. "Dahyun, wait!" Sana's voice calls from behind her, the girl running down the hall to catch up with her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Dahyun avoids her pretty eyes, feeling embarrassed under her gaze. She keeps her eyes on the floor in shame. Sana follows behind her like a lost puppy as the girls duck into the bathroom. Sana leans against the sink, watching Dahyun wipe her thighs off with a damp paper towel.

"Do I look okay?" Dahyun asks, turns in front of the mirror. "Even though it looks like I peed."

Sana giggles, digs her hand around in the bag she brought with her. She pulls out a small electrical fan and holds it towards Dahyun, who scoffs in both disbelief and amazement. "Yes, you do. Your pretty face distracts from anything else," Sana tells her as Dahyun takes ahold of the fan. Dahyun blushes even more, her neck, forehead, and cheeks feel hot to the touch. Sana and Dahyun giggle to themselves as Dahyun turns the fan on, aiming it towards her thighs.

A girl comes out from one of the stalls, Dahyun and Sana stepping to the side as she uses the sink. Dahyun keeps the fan blowing on her thighs, her eyes diverted to the floor as she feels the girls look at them strangely. "It's vinegar," Sana tells her, as if it makes it any better. The girl blinks at them for a moment, Dahyun and Sana purse their lips as they hold in their laughter. After a moment, the girl starts to giggle a bit. She rushes to dry her hands, then exits the bathroom without another moment to spare. Dahyun and Sana burst into a fit of laughter, the girls laughing so hard they lean onto the sink for support.

"I'm sure I looked so dumb to her," Dahyun tells her between a fit of giggles.

"We," Sana corrects. "I mean, we didn't know she was in here. I wouldn't have been so bold if I knew it wasn't just us." Dahyun chuckles, finding the situation bearable with Sana there to experience it also.

"Wanna go get lunch after class?" Sana asks. "Maybe show me around..." Dahyun's eyes open wide as she stares at the brash girl before her for a moment, before she breaks into a smile and nods in agreement. The girls stand there for a few more minutes, patiently waiting for the spot on Dahyun's pants to dry. Sana takes the fan back and drops it into her bag before propping the door open. "Let's go back and get this class over with."

Chapter three

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pocmuzings · 4 years ago

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💘 + hana & suraj 😌

wipes sweaty shaking hands . .. . .

where they first met and how : at school ! not entirely sure on grade . . but definitely like . . middle school . . fresh high school ? hana had just moved , and she saw suraj was in her class and o wow she was smitten she thought he was BEAUTIFUL

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved : their actual FLIRTING flirting stage was mainly just hana shamelessly hitting on him and staring at his ass . . so what . i think that lasted.. like a year and a half ? before she chilled out a little , and stopped just idolising him and began actually TALKING to him . and then it was still a lil flirty but it was actually like ‘ oh . . oh this guy has thoughts and is smart and thoughtful and sweet and not just a Hottie with a Body . . ‘

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): i think hana fell hard initially but it was legit just infatuation and her thinking he was hot . . i think from there . . they both kinda fell for each other ? once they started getting to know each other and working on school projects together . hana figured by then that he was way out of her league , so she’d kinda just given up and was happy just be Friends ? so she never even CONSIDERED suraj might like her too .

where their first date was and what it was like : oH THIS ??? IM NOT ?? IM NOT SURE ? i feel like when suraj first got his license he probably picked her up and took her out somewhere , and brought her flowers he’d nervously ripped out of his neighbours yard . . and like . he tried to take her to a nice dinner but maybe his car stalled ? she spilled something on her nice skirt ?? it was a disaster lowkey , and ended with them in a carpark of a 7 / 11 sharing a bag of skittles and holding hands probably and it was . . an amazing date . hana didn’t even care that everything ‘ technically ‘ went wrong .

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): AHHH THIS IS HARD TO ANSWER ?? because there was a lot of dancing around it . a lot of uncertainty and jealousy and saying ‘ ha ha we’re just friends ‘ . i truly don’t know who would have . . made the Move finally and asked out who and how ? i feel like it could have been suraj , but hana misunderstood and thought it was a Friendship thing , too .

who proposes first: OH IT WAS SURAJ AND WE ALL KNOW IT . i feel like hana maybe murmured it one night , them half asleep , her face smushed into his neck , like ‘ i wanna marry you ‘ , but it was suraj who literally had the Plan and the idea and the whole set up and he asked her and hana was both surprised and not surprised and SO HAPPY

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away : they didn’t really , in fact if anything they kept their relationship secret to EACH OTHER . like everyone else kinda knew they were into each other but they were both like . . ha ha . . nah .

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) : god u guys are really testing me today . . umm i feel like it was on new years and it was a little cliche , and hana and suraj were hosting a lil drinks together and had dinner with her parents beforehand and yeah . . ok . . suraj definitely did the thing with the Ring in the Glass , and him on his knee just as the fireworks went off . hana probably was laughing and crying and pulled out a ring SHE had for SURAJ in her purse and they’re both dumb idiots in love !

if they adopt any pets together : hana would adopt 2000958489 pets if she could , and suraj rlly has to put his foot down or he’ll come home to so many . luckily , most of their lives they’ve lived in apartments so having pets hasnt been a super high possibility . also . . hana is quite careless and has k*lled many , many of their goldfish . .

who’s more dominant : hana is more outwardly dominant but only because she’s SO loud and outspoken and talk talk talk talk TALKS . but suraj is quietly dominant ? like he’s the one who’ll put his hand out and immediately Everyone Respects and Listens and Shuts The Hell Up . he can command a room very easily if he wanted to . as for s*XUALLY . . hana LOVES when suraj gets a lil . . u know . . commanding in the bedroom . but she is usually the one who initiates it , and then he will hesitate but get iNTO IT.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: their first kiss was prom ! they both came with other dates and were acting like they weren’t jealous . hana’s date was a dick the whole night so she bailed , suraj’s date left early to go to some party . . it was them two in a carpark lowkey bickering and then . . oh the kiss just Happened !

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): OH HANA GETS THEM EVERYTHING . they have mr & mrs everything . she got them his & her towels . . ‘ HANAS BOYFRIEND ‘ as a mug to suraj ( for him to take to work so no Woman talks to him dfkjnfnk ) . they also definitely have 3000 matching halloween costumes , and ugly christmas sweaters .

how into pda they are : neither of them are actually super super pda-y besides a kiss goodbye / hello , and a hand hold . if they’re a little drunk or tipsy , hana definitely snuggles on in and just Holds him the entire night and presses kisses to his neck because she’s Addicted to him .

who holds the umbrella when it rains : SURAJ LOOK AT HOW TALL HE IS . and he just does it silently . . he takes it and holds it , and ensures hana doesn’t stumble into her 3000th puddle , or accidentally hit someone with the umbrella ( when she holds the umbrella , she always smacks suraj in the face and doesnt even notice dkjnjnfkfn )

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ) : i don’t know if they have one atm ? it was their rooftop for a while probably , in their old apartment complex ? thatd be date night usually . currently .. they’re pretty happy just having dinner together every night in their house in general ?

who’s more protective: hana is definitely protective because she doesn’t like the way suraj’s family treats him , mainly . like he’s not a PUSHOVER per se , but he isn’t very confrontational and ppl sometimes take advantage of that , and around his family she KNOWS they hurt his feelings and she really really doesn’t like that

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): platonically , they share a bed a bunch of times before they become ‘ them ‘ . hana’s parents let suraj stay over literally whenever , and they have a Knowing look in their eyes and would tease them about ‘ leaving the door open ‘ ( and hana would groan very loudly whilst suraj would stammer out a ‘ no - i - never . . ) . the first time they had sex was also in hana’s bed lets be honest . it was careful and gentle and both of them laughing nervously and moving slowly and taking Care of each other .

if they argue about anything : they don’t really argue with each other until they moved to mystic and things got Strained slightly . hana started acting quite obviously distant and it started stressing suraj out . other than that . . they argued maybe once or twice about surajs brother ? it was never anything TOO serious but it was a little bickering about how hana didn’t trust him and wished suraj didn’t hold out hope for him , and suraj defending himself and his brother . it’s never been anything too ugly ??

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) : hana . she leaves hickies on suraj any damn day . she also definitely comes to his office and will put on a fresh coat of lipstick and kiss him stupid ( and hand him her panties before stepping out ) because she just LIKES seeing him all flustered . plus she . . maybe likes that people KNOW that its HER with suraj .

who steals whose clothes and how often : oh we know hana wears his clothes constantly . she loves them . they smell like him . she wears them as pyjamas , or sometimes as a lazy sunday brunch look . he’ll be like ‘ babe did you see my ralph lauren button up - oh “ and there she is on the kitchen bench swinging her legs , grinning at him .

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) : they definitely swap ‘ big spoon / little spoon ‘ positions a lot . or they sleep holding hands , on different sides of the bed , but always touching in some way .

what their favourite nonsexual activity is : honestly . . just being around each other dfjkfnfn i know thats so cheesy but its true they love each other so much. their ABSOLUTE favourite thing to do is literally just talk about their days ? or like . cook for each other in the kitchen , or share music together , i feel ? just smth where they can be in their Space but not necessarily have to fill it with anything

how long they stay mad at each other : NOT LONG AT ALL !! barely anytime at all ! except . .One Time in the future when they have a huge blow out and theyre both utterly miserable , but all other small indifferences and ‘ arguments ‘ literally last an hour max . hana just can’t be mad at suraj bc he’s SO sweet and lovely and understanding she just . . always crawls back and knows shes the one being unreasonable 9 / 10 times .

what their usual coffee / tea orders are : hana always gets a ridiculously bright, overly sugary, coloured drink , or always tries something new ( trying to make her way through the menu ) . i feel like suraj is either more of a long black , or cappuccino guy , or a tea drinker ?

if they ever have any children together : oh ho ho . . THIS . . .woweee . . no, they do not ! not yet . . i want to say ? ? mayhaps . .

if they have any special pet names for each other : ‘ babe ‘ ‘ baby ‘ ‘ sweetie ‘ . hana calls suraj ‘ su ‘ sometimes ?

if they ever split up and / or get back together : they . . split up exactly ONCE . and they get back together because they literally can’t live without each other. the split up isn’t anybodys fault per se , either . its that hana has suddenly a lot of trauma and memories resurface and she doesnt know how to deal with it , and suraj tries to help and it TERRIFIES her and causes this distance and rift between them and then she just thinks maybe he’d be better off without her , so she gives him back the ring and cue them both being utterly MISERABLE . they find their way back together though . they always do .

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ) : despite hana being very messy and all over the place , their living space is quite minimalist and clean . hana’s work space is an explosion of materials and colour swatches and scrapbooks , but the house as a whole is neat and tidy and i feel we mainly have suraj to thank for that

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like : they spent half the day at hana’s parents , and half the day at suraj’s , then spent the evening / night together . they mainly enjoyed coming back home to each other tbh ? suraj’s family is . . Difficult , and hana tries not to stay around them for too long bc she sees them Drain suraj .

what their names are in each other’s phones: hana’s name for suraj is probably ‘ BABY 💕🥰💕🥰💕🥰💕🥰💕 ‘ she probably renamed herself in suraj’s phone too , to like . . ‘ LOVE OF MY LIFE ‘ and he never changed it back dfkjfnkfn

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) : their tradition is usually having dinner together every night ? no matter who cooks or what they buy . or even if hana is working late on wedding stuff , suraj will come sit with her and bring her her dinner still . they also send each other Silly Goofy selfies every now and then , just randomly throughout the day

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first : it really depends on the day ! during the week i think suraj usually falls asleep first ? and hana just rakes her fingers through his hair , because she usually works late and stuff , and tbh she loves when suraj is asleep bc hes a big golden retriever cuddled up to her . but everytime they watch a movie together , hana definitely falls asleep first and misses EVERYTHING . as for waking up first , i feel like this must be suraj ? because hana loves sleep and also she doesnt sleep very WELL and sometimes has nightmares .

who’s the big spoon / little spoon : they honestly take turns ok , there i said it .

who hogs the bathroom : hana literally for every event . she loves makeup so much . she’ll be doing it for two hours , suraj sitting on the bed fully dressed being like ‘ baby i’m not pressuring u but uh . . we’re half an hour late to our own wedding dinner rehearsal ‘ dfkjndfnjk

who kills the spiders / takes them outside : THEY’RE BOTH DECENT AT THIS ? they both take the spiders outside . if its a particularly big one or scary one . . it goes to suraj though . hana PREFERS if suraj does it , but if he’s not around she’ll try her Best .

#ship: hana x suraj #ur honour i love them more and more every fawkin day of my life #FUCK #theyre so cute #WE INVENTED LOVE #LITERALLOVE #stevenyuens

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