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yesimwriting · 3 years ago

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Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

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arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago

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Ahhh I love your writing sm!! Could I request how the brothers would react to an MC that's super doting and overly loving from the get-go?. Always insists on helping w cooking duty, brings the brothers coffee if they look busy, etc? pls & ty!

Tbh I don't really have a love language over than verbal but this speaks to me

In game I make my MC very much like this, overly positive and always wanting to help. Not because I have to, I could easily pick more honest or teasing options but when it comes to it. My first instinct/Response is those options because I like the idea of being helpful to people

It's only when people start using that for their advantage or make me help them out even though I'm busy or just don't want to do it. That's when there's an issue.

Lucifer:

"oh~ Luci! You still working?"

You peered over at him at his desk, peaking from the space between the wall and the stair railing

He looked up at you with a tired expression, frowning

"I am, what do you need?"

you trotted down the rest of the steps, walking over to him with a bright smile

A tray in hand with coffee and biscuits and apple slices

"I made these for you, I know it isn't much but you're always working so hard... perhaps I can help?"

Lucifer wasn't too surprised, you were always offering your help whenever you could but it still surprised him you were so quick to offer

He didn't know how you had all that energy to face the day and then do more for others but he always enjoyed your company

"be my guest."

You grabbed a mini stool and sat beside him, you'd read over papers with him, massaging his hand whenever you noticed it cramped

He shared the snacks you got him and even revealed the mini snack draw he had in his desk

He put a finger to his lips with a smile

"don't tell my brother's, this will be just between you and me."

He showed you what he had and you picked whatever caught your fancy, happily eating as you looked over the papers

Mammon:

He wasn't use to Someone being nice to him so when you came along and offered acts of service - he was blown away!

Even over time he wasn't really use to it

Speaking of you and your acts or service; you were whistling a happy tune

A thick wallet in your pocket, you headed straight to mammons room

It was as if he could smell the money, he rushed to your side and started eyeing the wallet

"Stop peeking - it's a gift."

He looked at you confused but was grinning

"oh? The great Mammon can't refuse a gift!"

You placed the wallet in his hand, he let out a yelp at the weight of it

It was completely loaded!!! It was stuffed with money!

He couldn't believe it - it had to be a trick! There was no way you were giving him this much money!

"Are ya playing with me? Ha ha human."

"no tricks, you've been struggling with your debt to the witch's so I thought I'd help, I heard you've been getting in trouble with Lucifer more because of it so I wanted to help!"

He didn't even realize he teared up, he jumped towards you and hugged you close

Nuzzling your faces together as he hugged you tight

"You-! YOU DAMN HUMAN- NO YOU ANGEL! YOU'RE THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!"

You patted his arm, laughing and it wasn't long before he was planning to spend a big splurge on you despite his issues with money already

Levithan:

He was shuffling into his room, headphones on and just starting to calm down

Today was hectic so he was happy to finally be back home

"Evening! Don't worry, I still used the secret password."

"HUH-?! THAT'S NOT- WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"

He threw his headphones off, face bright red

He should of known you were up to something, you kept humming whenever you entered his room

Talking about cleaning up after himself but he kept forgetting due to getting distracted

"I noticed it's gotten really messy so I decided to clean it for you but before you say anything, I know you hate when it's cleaned because you don't know where anything so I've labelled where everything has been stored if it's changed places."

He was still upset, he REALLY hated it when things are changed without him knowing first

But he looked around the room and sure enough, things were still in the cupboards and places he stacked them in and the labels were correct

Everything was completely organized! All the piled up ramen was even gone!

He exhaled a long breathe calming himself down, he was happy - really really happy

"Thanks.... just - can we arrange something next time? But I do like what you did! It looks nice - it's much better now!"

"of course, I'll ask next time - also~ I got you some special ruri-chan themed chips in hopes to make you feel better."

He moves before he knows it, hugging you tight

"STAY WITH ME FOREVER!!!!"

He's definitely embarassed afterwards and gets you out of his room before he makes himself look more like a love sick fool

But don't worry, he texts you wanting to hang out later

Satan:

Satan has been locked in his room after having a big outburst earlier that day

He got overwhelmed from all the noises and threw a book at mammon

You waited awhile before going after him, wanting him to calm down and looked after mammons sore head

You grabbed the book he threw, making a nice calming tea and even made some Apple pie

When you knocked his door he freezed

"Who is it-?! Lucifer, I'm not in the mood for your scolding-"

"it's just me, I got you something!"

He opened the door for you, letting you inside

His room looked clean for once - you didn't doubt he continued his rage into his room and cleaned up to calm down

You offered him a smile, placing the tray on his bed

"I hope you like it, I made it myself."

He looked at the fresh apple pie, his stomach rumbling at the mere sight of it

"you did this...for me? Didn't I scare you?"

You hummed, sitting close to him

"yeah a little but everyone has their bad days, you having one doesn't change anything - though you do need to apologize to mammon."

He sat down by his bed, placing the tray on his lap

"you're right I do, thank you for not just seeing me as some angry creature....I didn't intend to blow up like that."

You patted his arm, still smiling

You two sat together, you read his book for him whilst he ate and drank

He was very bashful at how supportive you are but that was you, you've always been so quick to offer help or do things for people ever since you've arrived

You were good to him, he'll always appreciate that

Asmodeus:

His love language is affection and words

Yours is acts of service

It's perfect!

Though, when it was established you were quick to help and offer your service - prepare for MANY innuendos

He'll come skipping to you, draping himself off the nearest object and asking if you want to help him de-stress

Most of the time you just have spa days or lay around doing nothing

You decided to treat him today seeing as exams were stressing him out

"Asmo! Won't you help me? I have this lovely new-"

He's skidding as he appears in the doorway, ready to do whatever you want

But you just grinned, knowing your plan worked

You grabbed him and shoved him into a chair

Before he knew it; his hair was tied up and his jacket and scarf has disappeared

"oh? What's all this about? Does my love want some special care?"

"nope, I just want to look after you today~ you've been stressing over exams so much, I wanted to treat you like a prince."

He had the biggest grin on his face after that

And treated like a prince he was

You did his skin routine, brushed his hair and curled it

If he even mentioned being thirsty you were straight to getting him a nice refreshing drink

If you're able to - please carry him bridal style - he will love every second of it

"you treat me so well, I know I'm already a blessing to this demonic world but you're just pure light."

He's so love sick, an absolute fool in love

"nonsense, I'm just helping you like usual."

Which is true, you were always being helpful to him

Thats why he loved doing whatever he could for you

"Never leave the Devildom, I couldn't bare not seeing your beautiful face everyday."

You just laughed, massaging his face and gave him a quick kiss

Beezlebub:

Another person who does acts of service as a love language

Though, do forgive him if he forgets due to hunger - he'll immediately make it up to you

At this point he's become a subconscious challenge/game of service - always trying to one up each other

Currently, he was really anxious about his up coming game

It was the biggest one that R.A.D was having and was against a smaller school in the Devildom

The brothers all agreed to come watch him play and even made banners and levi brought glowsticks

You were no were to be seen

The weeks running up to the game you were always busy and whilst you still do some things for him here or there - you were mostly out of the house

But it was but a long lasting plan

You planned on supporting him the best way you could!

When he finally rolled onto the field he felt dread when he didn't spot you in the crowd

He couldn't stop frowning until he saw you, shaking pom poms and running with the cheersquad

That's right, you joined the cheer team to show your support for the lovely demon

"I WANT TO DEDICATE A CHEER TO OUR STAR PLAYER - BEEZLEBUB!!!"

He's so flustered and absolutely shining with joy under his helmet

As soon as he could he came running towards you and hugged you tight

"I was so worried I did something that made you drift away....you did this for me?"

"of course! I'm sorry I made you worried, I wanted to surprise you."

He had to take off his helmet after trying to nuzzle your face, you yelped when it bonked you

"This is the best thing anyone has done for me, thank you (Y/N)."

"you're welcome, now go win that game! Prove those losers that R.A.D is the best school around!"

It was no surprised that R.A.D won

The players all cheered and partied, inviting the band and cheerleaders to celebrate with them

But you decided to have a sleepover with Beelzebub, feeding him plenty of tasty foods as your own type of celebration

"Open wide."

You almost choked on the cake basically shoved in your mouth, laughing as frosting covered your nose and cheeks

You got your revenge but he happily licked what he could

This is the best celebration he could ever get

All because of you!

Belphegor:

Even if your love language wasn't acts or service, you definitely got in the habit of doing it with this guy

He was spoilt from always being carried and pampered by his twin

He could get away with sleeping anywhere as long as he got things done and good grades

But you were always the helpful human, giving him snacks or fluffing his pillows

He's joked about getting a bell so he could call you whenever he needed you

That never happened

"Belphie!! You awake? I got something for you."

He immediately popped his head up and waved to get your attention

You showed him the cup of hot mocha you've recently made; sweet and delicious and has an extra kick to help with keeping awake

"Smells delicious, you made this?"

"yep! Now drink up, we got plans today."

He happily drunk it, feeling more awake with every gulp

By the end of the Cup he was absolutely overjoyed from the taste

Though you almost groaned in frustration when he yawned, so happy that he got sleepy

"you have anymore~? I could drink loads of these- make me more, you know how to make them, I'm too sleepy - it's your fault I'm sleepy."

You flicked his head

Reminding him to not act like a brat

But you did make him more and throughout the day you'd give him a large cup

You needed to do studies and make sure belphegor kept his grades up - Lucifer's orders

But he was already a star pupil regardless so you weren't sure why you had to

But spending time with your favourite demon was never an issue, regardless of his attitude

"We need to do this more, I love it when you look after me."

"I know, now write your answer, I need proof you're working so I don't get strung up."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #beelzebub obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me headcanon #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 4 years ago

Text

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

Support me with a kofi

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iwishtobeastorm · 3 years ago

Note

Congratulations on your 200 followers! I’m proud to be one of them! Can I request a Frankie Morales with plus size reader? Maybe reader thinks that Frankie likes someone else? 🥺 angst and fluff? Thank you so much in advance, I love your writing.

“I was afraid I’ll lose you.“ “Never.“

A/N: Thank you so so so much babe! I'm so grateful you're following me and that you like my work. 💕 When I saw you requested Frankie I almost fainted because I love the man more than anything and I couldn't wait to finally write something about him. I hope this angsty fluffy thing won't disappoint!

The most dangerous thing - Frankie Morales/Chubby!F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2200+

Celebration | Masterlist

It's as if everything around you stopped, the whole world just froze, the sounds got drowned by silence, the light turning into darkness as a huge wound opens in your chest sucking in all the warmth that you felt after Santi's last joke. You can't look away, your wide opened eyes filling with tears, before Benny nudges your shoulder, taking you back, your gaze snapping to him, the loud roaring of the bar fills your ears as you're met with the baby blue of his irises, watching you with worry. "Y/N, are you okay?" He speaks softly, his hand squeezing on your shoulder. You don't know what to say. You're sure he can tell perfectly you're not okay by the hot tears running down your cheeks. "Uhm, sure. I just need a minute," you murmur, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands as you rise from the table, rushing to the toilets before any of the boys come back to sit down or before Benny's able to stop you. You close the door behind you, locking in, before you lean your back against it, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs as you slowly slip to the ground, clutching your knees to your body, your tears now coming in burning streams, blurrying your vision. All of this for one man.

You've met the boys while working at the bar as a part-time job to have more money to cover your university life. You immediately grew to the whole group, spending maybe too much time joking around with them for your boss's liking. They've always flirted with you, or most of them did. Most of them, but never Frankie. And you being the little fool you're, of course you fell in love with him. He was always quiet and shy, never holding an eyecontact for too long, never teasing you. He rarely spoke to you at first, which made him even more attractive in your eyes, more mysterious. But when he started talking to you? Oh boy. You learned how smart he is and so perceptive, while he told you about a new book or an article he read or that caught his eyes, while he waited for the rest of the group and you hanged on his every word, watching him with unhidden fascination. You know he's older than you, but that doesn't mean the two of you couldn't work together. Actually you think you two would make an amazing couple. You can imagine falling asleep in his arms while he reads to you or spending the weekends with the boys, playing pool or cards like they sometimes do, as Benny told you once. You could get used to the life with him more than easily, but those are all daydreams. The longer time you've known them, the more you found out about Frankie and his past. You got to know he's divorced and has a little daughter and that all of the boys served in special forces, that's where their nicknames come from. The more you've heard about Frankie the more you grew to him. A few months ago you were invited to Benny's b-day party and ever since that, you hang out with them from time to time. You know you technically don't belong there, but they never made you feel like the third wheel, more like the little princess they all have to protect as your knights in shining armor. That's when you got significantly closer to Frankie. You two found yourself caught up in your own conversation more and more often, sometimes leaving the noisy company of the rest of the boys, just sitting on Millers' patio in the rocking chairs and talking about everything and nothing, laughing together until your ribs got tough sometimes. Frankie brought out a part of you you didn't know you had. All of those little things made you believe it was going the right way. You go along well, right? What else should matter? Until today Frankie was late. You were late yourself bacuse you had an important assignment to finish, but Frankie was never late. He was always the first one there, always. It made you worried, because apparently none of the boys knew what was actually going on, until Frankie showed up with a lady by his sight. Pretty one, a bit older than you and much much thinner, making your insecurity thrive. That's why you ran away like a coward, hiding in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the ground to cry your eyes out. This is not how you imagined this night. You thought it will be the usual. A bit of friendly flirting with Pope, life-check up with Will, a lot of laughing with Benny and nice conversation with Frankie, before you retire to your stinky dorms. Not this. Maybe you could climb out of the window and run away. No, no, you can't because you left your purse at the table. Or maybe you could pretend you were sick and sneak out? That could work, but you're not really prepared to face Frankie and whoever that lady is. You're screwed. "Y/N! Are you in there?" There's a banging on the door, making your form shake with it and you slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears that got stuck on your cheeks and taking a deep breath before responding to Benny's question. "Yeah, I- I just don't feel really well," you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Well, technically this isn't a lie. "Would you open the door for me?" He asks, hint of plea in his voice. "Uhm- just wait a second," you say softly, raising from the ground. You know that if you said no, Benny is able to kick the door open without hesitation. You check yourself in the mirror, getting rid of

any signs you've ever cried, before opening the door, just to find the younger Miller brother leaning against the doorframe, face curved in worry. "What's going on? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping in, letting you close the door behind him. "These are restrooms for women, Benny. You probably shouldn't be here," you murmur, trying to sound like you're teasing him to lighten up the mood and also mainly to avoid answering his questions, but there's no way Benny would let it slip. Not after the anguish he saw in your eyes and the tears that rolled down your cheeks. "Spill it, Y/N. I know something's up," he states, folding his hands on his chest like Frankie does sometimes, the mental mention of him reminding you of the lady by his side and your eyes start stinging again. "I just- didn't feel good," you say softly, trying to sound persuasive. But Benny's way past buying that. "Because of Sylvie?" He asks and you frown softly. "Sylvie?" You raise an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle softly. "Yeah, the lady that Frankie brought with him," he states, making your heart sink. "No," you murmur to respond to his initial question. "Are you sure?" Benny raises an eyebrow at you, leaning his body against the wall, eyes never leaving you, so you have to watch your expression carefully. "Yes. Can I leave now? I really don't feel good, Benny," you say, not really waiting for his approval, reaching for the door to open them, but Benny pushes his arm against it, holding it closed. Your strenght is nothing compared to his, so you know you're trapped. "Let me leave, please," you look up at him. "I saw the way you look at him, Y/N," he states, his gaze softening. Your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. Always so stubborn, as Will says. You look down, trying to hide all the emotions your eyes could give away easily. "Why don't you tell him?" Benny asks, leaning against the door. "Because it would be useless. I- I thought he feels the same but apparently he doesn't. I don't need more damage. Would you now let me leave, please?" you say softly, tugging on the door. "It's not like that. Pope set them up. Frankie didn't want it," Benny states. "Does it matter now? He's out there with her on our night, isn't he? And- and he looked happy so-," you clench your jaw, trying to open the damned door but it's useless when Benny's leaned on it. "Get away from the fucking door, Ben. I- I'm not playing," you grumble, the tears slipping over your eyelids and rolling down your cheeks at your struggle. Benny steps away from the door and tries to reach for you to continue with his attempt to comfort you, or whatever that was supposed to be, but you dodge his hand and storm out of the restrooms. You head straight to the table, not looking at anyone, just grasping your purse and murmuring quick I gotta go, before you're out of the door, their shouting of your name rings in your ears even as you walk down the street to your dorms. It's over. It's all over. He left you. He never felt the same. And now you have nothing.

You've spent the rest of the weekend in bed, eating ice cream and watching Bridget Jones, hoping that will heal the aching wound in your chest, but by now you doubt anything ever can. You turned off your notifications on the phone, not letting a single one of the guys know what is actually going on, so Benny remained the only one cursed with knowledge. On Sunday evening you finally get out of the bed and clean up a bit, since your roommate will return tomorrow morning from their visit of their family or whatever and if they saw this mess, they'd probably beat you up, so you play some lazy songs and get into it. Just as you're cleaning up the small bathroom you have, there's a knock on the door. You at first think it wasn't your door, since there's literally no one who could've been knocking at your door at this time, but then it's there again, louder this time, forcing you to turn off the water, wipe your hands and head out to find out who it is. When you open the door, you hesitate the urge to shut them again, your heart squeezing in your chest, making it feel too tight for your liking. "Uhm, hey," you murmur, your eyes meeting the dark brown irises you sometimes dream of. "Hey. I just- can I come in?" He tilts his head towards the inside of your room, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, sure," you murmur, stepping away from the door and letting Frankie in. You close it behind you, biting on your lower lip. There's not much space in your dorm room, so you gesture to your bed so Frankie has somewhere to sit down, while you pour him a glass of water. "So- what is that you need?" You ask softly when you return from the bathroom, handing him his glass of water and biting on your lower lip. "I- I'm here because of Friday," he states and you wish you could jump out of the window and run. "Okay," you murmur, not really sure where this whole thing is going. Did boys send him here because they are worried and they know you two are close? Or did Benny tell them what he found out? Either way you seem to be fucked. "What happened, Y/N? You left in such hurry and- I saw you were crying," he swallows nervously, his grasp on the glass tightening. Benny told them, eventually. It took a long time, lots of beers and lots of pressure from all of the guys but he told them. And Frankie's here to make it all good. "It's nothing," you murmur, adverting your gaze, your cheeks burning. "I know it's not nothing, Y/N. Please, you have to tell me," he reaches for your hand, squeezing a bit on it until your eyes meet his, welling up in tears. "I just- I- I like you Frankie. Like a lot. And- and I just- when you brought Sylvie I-," you take a shaky breath, your throat getting too tight with the sobs you hold back, making you unable to speak. "Shh, come here," he murmurs, grabbing your other hand too and leading you to sit on his lap. You're so surprised you forget how to breathe for a moment as your hands rest on his shoulders, while he cups your both cheeks with his calloused hands, wiping away your tears. "I like you too, darling. Sylvia is Pope's fault. I- I insisted there's nothing I feel to you and he then dared me to take some girl out to persuade him about it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was you. And I realized it fully when I saw you leaving the bar. I just- I'm sorry," he mumbles, sighing through his prominent nose, that you adore dearly. His words make you smile, warming up the empty cold darkness in your chest, finally bringing you back to your usual self. "I was just afraid I'll lose you," you admit, playing with the little curls on the back of his neck. "Never," he says, raising your chin so your eyes meet his and before you're able to do anything, Frankie's soft lips are on yours. He pulls you closer, hands squeezing on your hips, making your cheeks flush red as you run your fingers into his hair. You fight the grin on your face as you realize what this means. You have Frankie now. And Frankie has you.

-----------------------------------------

Tag list:

Thank you so much for your support!

@pintsizemama @rosi3ba3z @lovelylostminds @lokigirlszendaya

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #fluff fic #angst with a happy ending #friends to lovers #oneshot #best buddy benny #200 followers celebration

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multi-maker · 4 years ago

Note

can u pls do a comfort scenario with xiao and xingqiu (separately) where s/o is analytical and detects lies very well and points it out every time, which leads people in hating them? im the kind of person who analyses everyone i meet and point out lies the moment i hear/see one while providing evidence and stuff, and i sorta feel upset when ppl hate me even when i expose someone talking behind their back or stopping someone from hurting them

— love thy self

omg sweetie 🥺 requests are actually closed but i’m willing to let this one slide! you probably need it so i’ll try to do my best, alright? love yourself! ehe~

notes. this is my first time writing xingqiu so please have mercy if he seems ooc!

you were silent.

xingqiu lets out a soft sigh at your silence, snapping his book close. a frown slides on his lips when he notices you didn’t even pay attention, opting to gaze at the glittering waters of liyue harbor.

“my love, are you feeling alright?” he asks you softly. his hand coming up to grasp yours. when you turn to him, eyes glassy and lips trembling, xingqiu’s heart breaks. “why do people hate me...?” you asked him with a small voice. “what brought this on?” he asks you. “i pointed out something earlier since i figured out they were lying...they told me to shut up because no one likes me for doing that...” you answer him faintly, eyes downcast.

xingqiu frowns at your admittance, the gears in his head already turning. he already had plans on how ti pay that bastard back for making his beloved cry, but you needed him rught now.

gentle hands cupped your face as xingqiu smiles softly down at you. “don’t listen to them, my dear.” he coo’s, thumb wiping the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes. “i personally think your ability to spot lies is very helpful. those people hate you because you reveal their lies, which they shouldn’t be doing in the first place.” xingqiu tells you, and his heart tugs at how your eyes turned a little bit brighter.

“they are fools, y/n. don’t listen to their words.”

and as xingqiu embraces you, his hand rubs circles on your back as he whispered sweet nothings to your ears.

xiao frowns when he notices you were only staring at your plate of food, refusing to meet his eyes. briefly, he wonders if he did something wrong. but he knew he hasn’t done anything to warrant the silence you gave him.

“y/n?”

at the call of your name, you looked up to lock eyes with your adeptus boyfriend. his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes showing a hint of concern. “are you alright?” he continues, looking at you. biting your lip, you slump at his question. “no...i’m not.” you admitted.

lying to xiao was pointless - he already knew what you felt even before you told him. “it’s just that...i told one of my friends that his girlfriend was only using him for money and that he should break it off with her and he called me a liar!” you huff, glaring at the table. “he told me i was jealous and that i should stop lying when i know damn well his girlfriend is only using him for money! even a blind man can see that!” growling, you slammed your fist on the table.

your eyes tear up at the frustration that’s been building up inside of you and you couldn’t help but sniffle. “he told me he hated me because i’m trying to ruin his relationship...i’m a concerned friend! i don’t want him to be fooled...” your voice turns weak in the end. xiao promptly frowns at this, and he stands up.

xiao takes your hand in his, rubbing the reddening skin where you slammed your fist on the table. “what he did was wrong. he is a fool and he should take into account about what you said. it is not your fault he is blind and that he refuses to listen.” you knew xiao wasn’t the best in words, but your heart warms at his attempt to make you feel better.

“personally, i think a spear by his head will fit him for even daring to call you a liar.” “xiao!”

#💫 dawn #genshin impact #dawn is currently crying #genshin xiao #genshin impact scenarios #dawn is currently crying about xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact xingqiu #genshin xingqiu #genshin xingqiu x reader #genshin impaxt xingqiu x reader #xingqiu x reader #genshin impact x reader

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doublekrecs · 4 years ago

Text

Going Live

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading

a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara

also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️

You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.

The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could.

You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.

It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started.

Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.

He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap.

There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.

He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it.

You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm.

Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget.

You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed.

“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”

FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times.

“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss.

Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago.

Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office.

In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first.

“I thought you had streaks in your hair”

“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments.

You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off.

“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team.

The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head.

Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.

“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”

“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie.

You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve.

“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.

“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”

With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants.

You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks.

The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world.

“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”

He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit. You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned.

“Um how long for the pizza to get here?”

“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”

You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust.

He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air.

“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom.

The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time.

“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person.

“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants.

His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”

You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing.

Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them.

“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice.

“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.”

“Good girl.”

Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock.

“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick.

“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so.

“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good.

Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric.

“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”

Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you.

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding.

“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.

You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning.

You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he.

“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”

“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.”

With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you.

Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets.

There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing.

“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!”

With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs.

“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously.

You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”

“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”

He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.”

“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds blurb #🧞‍♀️writes

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights.

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret.

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would.

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs.

- Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you.

- It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

- No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath.

- Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit.

- Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

- I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand.

- You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

- We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants.

- You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed.

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning.

- The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands.

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

- Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals.

- Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right?

- Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

- That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

- Of course. Sidecar, as per usual?

- I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

- Everything, okay?

- Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town.

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

- Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

- I’m just not having a good day, nana.

- You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

- What?

- Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

- Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say?

- I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts.

- You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something?

- No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

- I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

- I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home.

- She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked.

- You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

- Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

- Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had.

- Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

- Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

- I’ll drive you home, then.

- I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her.

Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

- Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

- Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

- I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

- Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

- No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

- Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

- Lee ...

- Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

- You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

- You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

- One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

- How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

- I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

- Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

- You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

- You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

- Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

- You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

- You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

- You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

- Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

- Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

- You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

- Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

- Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

- But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

- Lee ... - she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

- Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it.

- Lee ... please, need you.

- You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

- Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain.

- Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby?

- Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

- I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear.

- Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed.

- You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

- Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

- Early shift?

- Yeah.

- Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall.

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

- Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir.

- Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

- Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

- Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

- Yes, well ... - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

- What is it?

- I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

- Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

What A Day 💝

Sykkuno x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: Going to the store at any point between the 1st and the 21st of February is a literal nightmare for anyone without a significant other. All products in shades of red and pink, made especially to steal money from love-struck people. Sykkuno has honestly had it with having to deal with the shelves at stores laughing at him and his relationship status. Luckily, on a trip to Target, exactly on Valentine’s Day, he runs into someone who thinks the same.

Requested by Anon. Hello lovely person! Thank you so much for this wonderful request you’ve sent me! I’m so happy to be able to fulfill it and I hope it does your idea justice and I hope you enjoy the read! Happy Valentine’s Day! Love, Vy 💝

Sykkuno feels like he has entered a red and pink maze. His head is spinning slightly, his eyes only seeing shades of the bold color all around him. It’s downright impossible to ignore and combined with the mob of people rushing to get their hands on a last minute gift for their significant other, it’s suffocating. He couldn’t have run out of shampoo on a more inconvenient day than today. Valentine’s Day. Or as him and his friends like to think of it - anti single people day. I mean seriously, going to a store on Valentine’s Day while single has to be the most nightmarish experience.

Sykkuno isn’t one to care about relationships much, he has come to terms with the concept that no one is really interested in him - a concept of his own creation, mind you. A concept he blindly believes despite there being so many people to convince otherwise and change his mind. He has grown accustomed to the single life and if asked he always replies with the standard ‘Alone and happy’ response, accompanied by a small smile as if to prove that he is indeed happy. And he is, as long as he doesn’t start spiraling in thought he is rather content with what he’s got - an amazing group of fans, thousands and thousands of loyal fans, a job he loves. A romantic relationship has never been in his top priorities. But every now and then, he wishes he had it.

This is an example of one of those times.

Though everyone around him is mildly stressed and in a rush, they each have a place to be. A place where a person of importance to them is waiting for them. A person who will greet them with a smile, hug and kiss. A person they’ll spend the rest of the day with, sharing laughs and memorable moments that will make this day special. Cause that’s what it’s really about - chocolates and gifts aside, the most meaningful thing about today is spending time with someone you love. Someone you maybe see everyday yet every time you see them it feels like it’s been long since you last saw each other. Someone you maybe haven’t seen in a long time and this is a way for you two to be brought together. Someone you haven’t been spending enough quality time with and today’s your chance to change that.

He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest at the thought that hits him like a cannonball straight to the chest:

I will never have someone like that

“I KID YOU NOT, IF YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN I’M GONNA- HELLO?!“ His spiraling deprecating thoughts are cut off by an angry shriek from the other side of the shelves of products he’s standing in front of.

Sykkuno instinctively backs away from the voice, startled, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. There’s an empty spot in the shelves from where products had been snatched rather quickly, not leaving a single item. Given that it was the perfume section it makes sense. The lack of products allows for a peek on the other side of the shelves, or in the other aisle, to be more precise where he catches a glimpse of a person walking past in one direction, then comes back, then passes by again and so on until they catch him looking and stop dead in their tracks.

The hole is eye-level so the two are staring at one another like a pair of deer caught in headlights. Sykkuno feels the need to apologize for peeping in on their frustration breakdown which was probably supposed to be private, but then again it happened in the middle of a damn supermarket so he can’t really be blamed for checking to see what the commotion was about. But him being himself, apologizing is his first instinct.

Just as he opens his mouth, the person on the other side lifts two heart shaped boxes, “Hey stranger, sorry to interrupt your spying, but I’ve already called like three people to ask which of these is better at curing a lonely heart but they all hung up on me without giving me an answer so...” they trail off, shaking the two boxes of chocolates as if to attract his attention to them, “what do you think?”

He’s caught off-guard, to say the least. They dropped so much on him in a single breath he suspects they are now seeing spots in their vision due to momentary lack of oxygen. He wants to laugh it off but something tells him they are serious, “Oh, um, sorry, I’ve never had either.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Try eenie meenie miney mo?” He suggests, giving them a slight shrug of his shoulders.

They look between the two boxes, a in-thought expression on their face, “Screw it!” They finally say, “I’m getting both.” They secure the chocolates under one arm, flashing him with a bright smile, “What are you getting your significant other? Need a second opinion? Being the only single friend in a friend group has gifted me a peculiar but, oddly enough, useful skillset in giving second opinions.”

Once again, so much said so quickly, Sykkuno can barely keep up with them. It’s been a slow day for him so his brain was basically on airplane mode up until now. Thanks to this ball of energy looking back at him his brain has kicked into mega gear, each cell working to remain in step with his correspondent. It’s a nice change of pace - too slow and he gets too self-deprecating, too fast and he feels lost amongst the words being said but with this person, no matter how quickly they’re speaking, the pace seems just right to lighten up his mood and return some liveliness to his being that was taken away by the broody thoughts that were coursing his head moments ago.

“If I could get a significant other, that’d be great. I’ll make sure to ask you for a second opinion then.” He admits timidly, looking away from the bright eyes that keep up bold eye-contact with no hesitation or doubts. He wishes he had at least half their confidence, but sadly he doesn’t. Especially not when faced with someone so courageous and upbeat, someone who seems to always want to be making the most of the time they’re offered, making every second count, making it memorable. He’s never been good at reading people, but this person is an open book with audio to go along with it. A show and tell book of vibrant colors and details that make them stand out and blend in simultaneously. But as they themselves said - they’re lonely. Does it show? Absolutely not. That speaks volumes about what kind of person is standing opposite him right now. Perhaps one he’d like to get to know better.

Or maybe he’s become just a tad too desperate.

“So should I give you my phone number so you can give me a ring when the time comes?“ The sneaky smirk that appears on their face brings a blush to his cheeks, a rush of blood so intense he’s embarrassed to admit it. Though one thing he’d have to admit is: that was a smooth line. “Oh sorry! People usually offer names before phone numbers, right?” They face-palm, shaking their head slightly before extending their hand to him through the hole in the shelves, “I’m Y/N.”

He takes their hand, cheeks still burning but a smile he couldn’t prevent is also gracing his features now, “Sykkuno.”

He can’t help but notice the words written on the inside of their wrist: chocolates, wine, ice-cream, chips and dip; the discovery provokes a chuckle from him which slips out before he could as much as think twice about it. Y/N’s gaze follows where his eyes are looking, stopping on the blue ink on their skin of their wrist and laughs, pulling their arm back, “Yeah, I’m rather forgetful.” They wave their hand nonchalantly before their eyes widen and they reach in their pocket, “Hold on! Give me your hand.”

He’d be a fool not to oblige. They pull out a pen, uncapping it with their teeth and writing a string of numbers on the side of the back of his hand going from the middle of his thumb to his wrist, each number written nicely and boldly, like their personality. It’s not an exaggeration when people say handwriting says a lot about a person - theirs is pretty outspoken that way.

“There!“ They smile after capping the pen again, “Hope you find you’re other half. Whoever they’ll be, they will most definitely be a lucky soul.“ They giggle, readjusting the heart-shaped boxes under their other arm, “It was nice meeting you, Sykkuno. Have a nice day!“

Y/N starts walking away without waiting for him to respond to their goodbye, leaving him somewhat speechless on his end of the shelves. He’s still in the middle of processing what just happened when his eyes land on the phone number on his hand.

I’ll maybe call them, He thinks to himself, looking at the digits of Y/N’s phone number from several angles when suddenly, an idea pops into his head.

Maybe I won’t

Before he’s had time to contemplate his next move, Sykkuno finds himself jogging towards the end of the aisle in hopes he’s not too late. In hopes that he will come across the person he just let slip from his reach like an dummy. He’s had far too many instances in which he accidentally let go of good opportunities, good people, good relationships, he’d hate to repeat mistakes once again.

Luckily, his prayers are heard.

“Y/N?” He calls out to them, catching their attention immediately. They turn around, a curious expression on their face, waiting for him to continue, “Do you, um, have any plans for today?”

Their eyes sparkle as they answer with a laugh, “You saw my grocery list, it should tell you about enough of how I’ll be spending the day.”

That’s a relief like no other. He was actually expecting them to come up with something last minute but his stars are probably well-aligned today, gifting him this luck, “Would you maybe wanna...um, grab coffee? Or lunch? Anything you’d like.” There’s that embarrassing bush again, this time more wide-spread than before and - impressively enough - more intense.

He thought their previous smiles were bright. No, no, no, no. Oh boy, was he wrong. This one! This one smile of theirs puts the sun to shame with its brightness and warmth. With its authenticity and contagiousness. It’s one of a kind. As is Y/N. “I’d love that, Sykkuno. Catch you outside?” They ask, showing their own timid side for the first time adding another element to their cuteness.

“A-absolutely.“ Sykkuno nods energetically, giving them a small wave before booking it straight towards the exits. All the while thinking to himself:

Damn, what a day. Wait...I forgot to buy shampoo, didn’t I?

@khaoticbunny @smiithys @chaoticgayandnerdy

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! I love your writing so much, your angst is one of my favorites to read because they always hit me in the feels. Can I request a hc or imagine (I can’t remember what they’re called) about Diavolo x Satan where Satan feels insecure because he thinks that Diavolo is with him as he was once a part of Lucifer, who doesn’t hold romantic love for Diavolo. You can add some smut if you want, I’m perfectly okay with the angst either way 😁!

I wrote this and posted it on AO3 first but here it is. Hope you like it anyway!

Warning: like 1 dust crump of slight NSFW if you look hard enough

Love's Poem (SATAN X DIAVOLO)

Love is such an unpredictable thing.It comes so unexpectedly and knocks you over, or it will come gently and embrace you in its arms. Love is also odd. You may feel it strongly, almost too overwhelming, you will find peace in it, almost as if a blanket is draped over your shoulders. Love may come in full force, or it will come agonizingly slow. In Satan’s case, love could’ve been anything, but it was always there, he noted. Despite his exterior and the picture people painted of him, he always wanted to feel it, to experience it, to have it… and only in his books did he ever find it. It’s almost sad, really, pathetic. Or at least, Satan thinks so. A millennia old being holding on to such a childish dream, and yet… he can’t seem to let go of it. He has hope for it and he longs for it, but he isn’t foolish. He won’t blindly reach out for it. “Patience is a virtue.” he says, even if he finds it hard to be patient for a lot of things. He craves to be in love so desperately, laying there day and night with his nose buried in a book that tells of things he has yet to experience. A poem. A poem is what he yearns to create with someone else; a poem of their lives together.

In all his yearning and waiting and desperation, though, he failed to realize that the poem had long started to be written. He failed to realize its soft touches, its gentle glances, and its sweet words calling out to him. He was so preoccupied with the paper it was supposed to be written on that he failed to notice the ink creating words on it. When he finally did notice, though, it was neither calm nor overwhelming. It was there, and Satan felt as if it had always been, because it had been. Still, when he realized whom he held it for, he was taken aback. Diavolo was never someone he excessively thought about… or so he thought. Diavolo, too, took a while to see Satan in such a new light and only when the two of them shared a moment over some literature did the Demon Lord realize just how deeply he could feel for the fourth born.

But Satan was unsure. He was questioning the demon’s motives, and quite honestly, he was scared. Scared of giving his all only to be left in the dust. To him, as much confidence as he bears and he truly does, coming from the Avatar of Pride himself and all, to himself, Satan was no one special. He’s attractive, very much so, and of course highly intelligent, but he also realizes how much of a brat he can be, or a bore, depending on the day. Diavolo was a manchild with insecurities, and Satan had said that more than once. Yet, their relationship blossomed and Satan found himself quite attached to the man, and vice versa. Diavolo felt like he had someone to confide in, someone who gave it to him straight but also comforted him. Someone he could experience things with and have a calm, peaceful evening with every night. Satan appreciated being brought out of his room, in which he would otherwise have been holed up in, and although he wasn’t after Diavolo for the money, status, or fame, he also appreciated the extravagance that his life brought to him. They balanced each other out, in the most unlikely ways, and both of them knew it.

Still, on one some days, Satan felt more like a shadow than anything. “Lucifer will come by today” again. “You won’t believe what Lucifer told me earlier” yes he will. “Lucifer” this “Lucifer” that. He understands that the two of them are close, after all Diavolo considers the first born his best friend. It angered Satan, though. Was he not enough? Does Diavolo still have to bring up Lucifer when he knows how the former feels about him? It’s not for a lack of communication, either. Satan has voiced his distaste quite a lot and changed the subject on more than one occasion, but a part of him also feels terrible for wanting to keep the Prince’s best friend away. “Satan!” especially when the guy so happily calls his name. “Hm?” It was nice outside, although when is it not in the Devildom. It rarely ever rains or snows or storms, and the temperature is always perfect to the demons. Satan was sitting under one of the trees in the courtyard at the House of Lamentation, reading one of his many books although he had a feeling that won’t last long. “Hm? That’s all I’m getting?” The pout that graced the Prince’s lips made Satan smile and a soft blush tint his cheeks. He looks up at the man, pursing his lips up into a kiss and waiting for Diavolo to take it. This is what he means when he says he wants a romance like in the books he reads.

Diavolo leaned down to give one to him happily before falling into the grass. Somewhere behind them, they could hear Barbatos gasp, probably because the butler knows just how clumsy his Lord could be, but Diavolo waved him off and laid his head in Satan’s lap, who laid his book on top of Diavolo’s face. “Hey! I came all the way here and I got the cold book?” “You disrupted my reading” all meant in good humor, of course. Diavolo pushed the book off of his face and reached a hand up to brush along Satan’s cheek, which made the latter blush deeply. He’s still not fully used to this type of affection. “Hm… you look so handsome today. Did you do anything special to yourself?” Satan rolled his eyes although he did manage to turn his head and kiss Diavolo’s hand before it moved behind Satan’s ear to scratch it. Satan groaned softly, shivering slightly. Diavolo knows damn well that that is one of his weak spots. “There it is…. Good kitten.” Satan knows it’s a mock and although he’s blushing profusely, he’s also flicking Diavolo’s forehead, making him laugh. “Watch it. Kitten’s can claw.” Diavolo only growled playfully in response.

“Can you believe us? A few months ago you didn’t even like me.” That’s not entirely true, he was just vary of the Demon Lord for over a few millennia, “and then Lucifer told me to just go for it.” Ah yes, Lucifer. Satan held back the urge to roll his eyes. “And then he said ‘Lord Diavolo, you would be not only blind but also a fool if you let this opportunity pass’ because he knew way more than either of us did.” The hell he did. “And you know what I said?” No, but he’s sure that Diavolo’s about to tell him. “I said, ‘Lucifer, my friend, don’t you worry. I will never take your beloved brother and son without first asking for permission’” Satan’s eye is twitching now and he finally found it in himself to say something, too, “is that all?” Diavolo’s smile slowly dropped when he saw Satan’s reaction and he was genuinely confused, slowly lifting his head from the guy’s lap and looking at him confused, “yes? Is something the matter?” He’s trying. He’s trying so hard not to snap right now so he just closes his eyes and just breathes for a couple of moments, “you know Lucifer said that when you--!”

A growl escaped Satan and this time he actually did snap, whipping his head around to look at Diavolo. “Yeah? He said that? Must be nice. Anything else he said? Anything else he would like to add to our relationship or does he want to include himself next?!” Diavolo just stared at him blankly for a moment, unsure on how to approach this, “what? No. No, it’ll always be just us.” Blatant. Fucking. Lie. “apparently not! It’s Lucifer this, Lucifer that, and if you want Lucifer that badly, you can go and get him. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know that he ruined yet another thing!” anger is getting to him and the next thing he says was neither thought out nor actually meant to ever leave his lips, “you’re probably just with me to get back at Lucifer, am I right? Poor little Lucifer wouldn’t give you his heart so you go to the next best thing; me!” Diavolo was taken aback by that last statement and for a moment he just stared at Satan, his mouth hanging open, but it soon turned into a glare.

“Is that what you think? That my feelings are a lie? If you believe me to be such a liar, why are you with me?” Because he loves him, duh. He hates how much he feels for him but he can’t stop it, that’s why constantly hearing about Lucifer drives him insane. “I only want you, Satan, and I thought I made that pretty clear, but apparently not.” Diavolo sat up on his knees and for a moment he thought the guy was going to get up and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he slammed his hands flat against the tree Satan was leaning against, glaring down at the fourth born before his eyes soften. “Stop being so jealous of your brother.” “I’m not jealous! You’re the one who only ever talks about him when your attention should be on me!” No matter how nice Diavolo was being right now, Satan is still glaring at the Lord, who turned his head and nodded at Barbatos. For what, Satan didn’t know, but it was for something. “Look at me Satan.” His eyes turned back up to look into Diavolo’s gold ones, holding so much softness and love, “I love you and only you.”

Satan rolled his eyes and he was about to push Diavolo off and away, but the latter cupped the blond’s face and kissed him softly before resting his head against his. “Lucifer is my best friend, yes, but you’re my lover and if I wanted to pursue anyone other than you, I would’ve, but I didn’t. Don’t be angry.” Although it is hot when Satan gets angry and if this wasn’t such a serious discussion, Diavolo would’ve definitely made a move. The blush returned to Satan’s cheeks and he tried turning his head away, but Diavolo wouldn’t let him. “No. Say it back. I know you do.” Satan mumbled it under his breath because he knows he loves the guy too. “What? What’s that?” “I love you too…” “a little louder, Satan.” The blond glared at him and Diavolo couldn’t help but laugh, kissing him again, this time a bit deeper before he grabbed Satan’s hips and fell back into the grass with him, making sure the demon landed on top. “I said I love you too…” He’s been atop Diavolo so many times, but every time he feels like it’s the first time. “There you go. It’s way easier being honest, isn’t it?” Diavolo’s hips playfully snapped up against Satan’s and the blond’s blush deepened, barely able to steady himself on Diavolo’s chest.

“Whatever… Just don’t forget I’m your only one.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #shall we date satan #obey me satan #satan obey me #satan avatar of wrath #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo x satan

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jensengirl83 · 4 years ago

Text

Regret and Redemption Chapter 6

Dean x reader

Mechanic!Dean AU

Word Count-2476

Summary- Reader has left Dean and is trying to move on with her life. Can Dean prove himself and convince her to come back home?

Warnings-Angst, Heartbreak, Language

A/N- Song in this chapter is Careless Whisper by Seether. Lyrics will be in italics. Thank you to my beta @emoryhemsworth and all my girls and guy for the encouragement to keep going with this series. I love you all!

Amazing series cover and text dividers courtesy of @talesmaniac89

“Hey baby,” Dean answered the phone.

“Don’t call me that Dean, this isn’t a social call,” Y/N said with her voice monotone and void of any feeling.

“I’m sorry Y/N. What can I do for you then?” Dean asked as his heart sank.

“I don’t need you to do anything for me, Dean. I called to tell you something,” she said.

“What is it Y/N?” Dean asked as he held his breath.

“I want a divorce, Dean.” Y/N said with no emotion detectable in her voice.

“No! Baby please, don’t do this. I need you,” Dean said pleading with his wife.

“Dean, you obviously didn’t need me enough to be able to keep it in your pants. I can’t do it anymore. The longer we stay just separated, the more hope it will give you that we can fix this, and we can’t. I’m sorry Dean, but I filed this morning. You should have the papers soon. Goodbye Dean,” Y/N said as she hung up the phone.

Y/N sat with her head in her hands as the tears for the marriage she had lost spilled down her cheeks. Having seen him with Stacy was the proverbial straw that had finally broken her. Her heart was aching at the loss of the only man she had ever loved but she couldn’t ever trust him again. He had done too many things to forgive at that point. No matter how much she still loved her husband, she had to let him go. It was time for her to move on and leave him where he belonged, in her past.

Dean sat staring at his phone for a long time. Her words had destroyed him. He was losing his wife and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. The fact that his marriage was over had begun to sink in and he had no one to blame but himself. He felt that his life was all but over now; the love of his life would never come back home to him. Dean threw his phone across the room with a guttural scream, the pain consuming him whole. He’d lost the only person to ever break down the walls he had built, the woman who he would forever love and never have again.

The weeks that followed weren’t kind to Dean. He had received the divorce papers and that had ruined him. She had asked for nothing: not the house, her part of the garages, not a thing. She stated that all she wanted was the money she’d made from her books and he could have the rest. She said that she didn’t want anything that had been a part of their time together. Dean had looked at the divorce papers at least a hundred times and it had hurt him no less than the first time he had read them. She was done with their marriage and with him.

Dean became a recluse, going to work and locking himself in his office and then back home. He quit talking to his family and friends, never leaving his house except when he had to. Dean didn’t even go to work if he didn’t have to. The will it took not to cry the whole time he was there started to fade. The memory of her was everywhere at work and he couldn’t stand it. If it wasn’t for the employees he had, Dean would lock the doors and never return. He knew the next months would not be any easier. The rest of his miserable life would be a living hell as long as he didn’t have Y/N.

The weeks following her decision to file for divorce were a little easier for Y/N, but not by much. She hid away in her apartment, continuing to work on her novel. Her heart was broken at the end of her marriage, but she decided to move on and try to live her life the best she could. She hadn’t gotten to the living part yet, but she was trying to get there. She had not heard from Dean since the day she had told him she wanted a divorce. She hoped that he had finally gotten the point and was moving on. She secretly hated the thought of him moving on; the idea broke her heart in fact, but she knew she couldn’t forgive him for his betrayal. That one thing is what had ended their marriage, her lack of being able to forgive and trust him again.

Y/N sat in her guest room that she had made an office staring at her computer screen. Some days were easier than others when it came to writing her book, but today was not one of the easier ones. Dean had been on her mind since she woke up that morning and it pissed her off to no end. Here she was, in her own apartment trying to move on, and he still had a hold on her. That thought made her think to call her uncle. She hadn’t spoken to him about the divorce proceedings since she filed.

“Turner Law offices, how may I help you?” Diane answered the phone.

“It’s Y/N. How are you Diane?” she asked her uncle’s secretary. She’d worked there since Y/N was a child.

“Y/N! I’m good, sweetheart. How are you holding up?” she asked her with sincerity.

“I’m hanging in there. Is Uncle Johnnie busy?” Y/N asked.

“He’s on the phone, but I’ll tell him you are on the line. Hold on just a minute sweetie,” Diane said as she put her on hold. Y/N was glad that her uncle was handling her divorce. It made it easier that family was taking care of it instead of a stranger who could give a damn.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite niece?” her uncle asked with a laugh.

“Sure, Uncle Johnnie! You do remember I’m just one out of how many? I bet you say that to all of us,” Y/N said with a laugh.

“I do but that’s because you’re all my favorites!” he said laughing at her.

“That’s a lot more accurate,” she laughed. “I called to ask how everything is going with my divorce.”

“Well Y/N, Dean hasn’t signed the papers yet. I contacted his lawyer to tell them that he needed to get them signed,” her uncle said with a sigh.

“I should’ve known. Thanks, Uncle Johnnie. I’ll call Sam and see what he can do to get Dean to sign them and get this over with,” Y/N said as she ran her hand down her face. Of course, he hadn’t signed them yet.

“You don’t need to call his brother Y/N. I know you want to cut ties and that will just make it harder honey,” Johnnie said softly.

“It’s ok, I actually like Sam,” Y/N chuckled. “I really don’t mind talking to him.”

“That’s up to you sweetie. Hopefully, that little shit will sign the damn papers soon,” he said with a groan.

“Uncle Johnnie…” Y/N groaned.

“I’m sorry honey. He’s lucky I haven’t sent one of your cousins on his ass,” Johnnie said with a laugh, but Y/N knew he wasn’t joking.

“It’s fine, honestly! I’m a big girl and I can handle this without bloodshed,” she laughed.

“Ok sweetheart. I love you and I’ll let you know as soon as he signs, ok?” He said with a smile.

“I love you too Uncle Johnnie! Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome darlin’. Bye Y/N,” he said as he hung up the phone.

Darlin’. That name had brought tears to her eyes. Dean had called her that many times in the years they had been together. There were so many things that she was going to have to move past now that he wasn’t a part of her life anymore. She shook the thoughts from her mind as she went back to her laptop. She opened up her Spotify playlist and hit shuffle. Music had always helped her to focus. The song that started to play had her staring at the screen with tears in her eyes.

I feel so unsure

As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

As the music dies

Something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all of the sad goodbyes

This song had always been one of her favorites but now it hit home. The lyrics made her chest feel tight, and her breath came in pants as she thought of her soon to be ex-husband.

I'm never going to dance again

These guilty feet have got no rhythm

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a fool

I should have known better than to cheat a friend

A wasted chance that I've been given

So I'm never going to dance again

The way I danced with you

The tears were now staining her cheeks as her mind replayed that day that she had seen the hickey on Dean’s neck, the mark that had concreted her fears and worst nightmare, the proof that the man she loved had betrayed her.

Tonight, the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd

Maybe it's better this way

We've hurt each other with the things we want to say

We could have been so good together

We could have lived this dance forever

Now who's going to dance with me

Y/N laid her head down on her desk and let out the tears, grief, and pain that had been bottled up for the last few months. She finally let herself grieve for the marriage she still wanted, the man she still loved. That was what hurt the most: she still wanted him, but she knew that it wasn’t a possibility. He had hurt her beyond repair this time. No matter how much she still loved him, she would never be able to move past his betrayal.

Dean sat on his couch where he spent most of his time now. He had even been sleeping downstairs since Y/N had told him she wanted a divorce. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in their room without her anymore, the memories of the love they had shared in that room was too much for him. Dean looked a mess, not having shaved in weeks. He only showered because he had to at this point. His evenings had consisted of staring at the walls and looking through old photos of him and Y/N. He knew that wouldn’t help him move on, but that was the point, he didn’t want to. He wanted his wife back in his arms and in their home.

Dean stared at their wedding photo for what seemed like hours. The way Y/N was smiling took his breath away. He had always thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but that day she had been breathtakingly beautiful. Her Y/H/C hair was swept up with just a few pieces down to frame her face. Her Y/E/C shined as he had never seen them before. She had been truly happy that day, and so had he. The two of them had been so excited to start their journey together as husband and wife. Dean felt the tears that had escaped roll down his cheeks as he thought of what he had ruined. A knock at the door had him wiping away the tears as he made his way to see who the hell was bothering him.

“You look like shit, dude!” Sam said as Dean opened the door.

“Happy to see you too Sammy,” Dean said as he rolled his eyes.

“What the hell have you been doing man? I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks!” Sam exclaimed as Dean turned his back on him and walked back to the couch.

“Oh, you know, having the time of my fucking life Sammy! What do you think I have been doing?! I’m missing my wife and grieving my failed fucking marriage!” Dean yelled as he threw his hands in the air.

“I get it dude, but don’t yell at me! I didn’t tell you to go screw those whores!” Sam yelled and regretted it instantly. “I’m sorry Dean, I really am, but don’t take it out on me man.”

“Fuck you, Sam! You don’t think I regret what I did?! I have never regretted something more in my life!” Dean growled as he collapsed back to the couch.

Sam didn’t say a word as he sat down beside his brother. He regretted what he had said, but the stress of what he had dealt with that day had gotten the best of him. He laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder and let him cry it out, just being there for his brother until he was ready to speak.

“I’m sorry Sammy. I just don’t know how much more I can take, man. I want Y/N to come home and I know that she never will,” Dean said with a sigh.

“It’s ok man, I get it. I’m really sorry you’re going through this,” Sam said as he patted Dean on the back.

“What brings you over here Sammy? You need something?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, Y/N’s uncle called me today. He wants the divorce papers back and signed,” he said as he watched his brother.

“I don’t want to sign them, Sam. That means it’s really over,” Dean whispered as he glanced at the divorce papers sitting on his coffee table.

“This is going to sound rude, but it’s over whether you sign the papers or not Dean,” Sam said as gently as he could, not wanting to rub salt in the open wound. “Besides, you have a more important problem you need to deal with now. That’s the main reason I came over here today.”

“What the hell’s going on now?! I have enough to deal with Sammy!” Dean said exasperated.

“Well, just sign the divorce papers and get it over with. You’ll be going to court over something else soon,” Sam said with dread. He didn’t want to have to tell Dean, but he had no other choice.

“What are you talking about Sam? Just spit it out already,” Dean said as he prepared himself for whatever shit show was coming now.

“Stacy’s filed a lawsuit against you for sexual harassment Dean,” Sam said. “She’s also suing for wrongful termination. This could cost you a lot of money.”

“That’s fucking great!” Dean yelled sarcastically. If he had even a shred of a chance to convince Y/N to come home, it would be gone as soon as she heard about this.

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glassbangtan · 4 years ago

Text

onto the next {kim seokjin x reader}

words: 15.9k

summary: you just need to start a new life. you need to get out of this small town and start fresh. you’re beginning to think you made the wrong decision until a kind man named seokjin offers to help you navigate the trains.

genre: uhhhhhh fluff??? angst???

notes: this literally has no plot, don’t let the summary fool you. but it’s cute!!! - masterlist - support my writing or ask about commissions!

----

you need to get out of here.

fuck, you don’t even know how it happened. you left school, and you had plans. so many plans. an entire life laid out ahead of you. once upon a time, you were one of those hopeful little kids, buzzing to get out of the education system so you could pursue the dreams you so desperately wanted to pursue.

but then you were actually given independence, and it spiralled from there.

you wouldn’t say it was too much. you’re not that dramatic. it was just a shift - a big shift. you ended up with a job at a nearby Chinese takeout, working from four in the afternoon to ten at night, dealing with drunk people and little kids and answering phones. it was good at first, just getting money, but over time, when the novelty wore off, you wondered what the hell you were doing there. this wasn’t part of your plan. you should be travelling the world right now.

so here you are, a few months into your mental breakdown, finally tipping over the edge.

you stare at the list of trains flashing overhead in bright red letters. in your pocket, your phone blares with the continuous text messages from your parents, asking how you are, if you’re willing to tell them anything yet, if you’re safe. you’ll text them back once you know what you’re doing, but for now, you just need to get out of here.

there’s plenty of options. more options than you can handle, really; you thought it would be easier than this. you’d just walk into the train station and pick a destination, and your life would finally begin. now, however, your mind is a tangled mess of emotions, doubt, and everything that comes with it.

you slump down on a nearby bench and duck your head in your hands. you don’t realise you’re crying until your sleeves start getting damp.

“are you alright?”

you don’t lift your head. “no.”

the bench creaks as the stranger sits down. a shoulder nudges your own, firm and warm, probably adorned by a bulky coat given the frosty weather of korea at the moment.

“oh. that’s not very good.”

you drop your hands. the next train finally closes its doors and speeds out of the station, leaving you with yet another hour to gather your thoughts; it’s the second train that you have let slip through your fingers, because you still don’t even know where you want to go.

you turn, glancing at the man beside you. he’s eating a packet of starburst, staring out at the railway tracks. he’s wearing a thick black coat over a hoodie, and he truly looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

he catches you staring after a few seconds and immediately offers you a starburst. “hungry?”

you hesitantly take one, though you don’t undo the wrapper. instead, you play with the sugary square, thankful to have something keeping your hands occupied.

“so,” the stranger continues, “why are you crying?”

how direct.

“i wasn’t crying.”

the man glances at you, raises a brow. his features are surprisingly handsome, a set of plump lips and kind eyes that take a little bit of fear from your body. “are you sure about that?”

“pretty certain.”

“did you miss your train or something? sometimes i feel like crying when i’ve missed my train; it’s very stressful.”

you blink. “no. no, i haven’t missed my train.”

he perks up. “oh, good! what train are you getting then? maybe i can help you with the times.”

that’s really the million dollar question, isn’t it? what train will you find yourself upon? what city will you find yourself travelling to?

you have no idea.

“i have no idea.”

the man pauses as if waiting for the punchline to some kind of joke. you unwrap your starburst and pop it in your mouth. overhead, a voice announces that the next train will be arriving in fifty minutes.

when the silence stretches beyond anything acceptable, the man awkwardly coughs and says, “you don’t know?”

“i don’t know.”

“so you’re just. . . crying in the train station for no reason, with no train to catch?”

“i never said i didn’t have a train to catch. i just don’t know what one i’m catching yet.”

the man nods. you can tell, somehow, that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to say, but he’s too polite to question you any further. instead, he looks up at the signs above and says, “i’m heading to Gwangju, if that helps.”

Gwangju. you’ve heard wonderful things about that place. it’s pretty, apparently, though you can only base that off things you’ve heard from others.

“Gwangju,” you repeat, as if testing the word. “why are you going to Gwangju?”

he shrugs. “i just need to get away for a little while.”

your heart stutters, eyes snapping round to look at him. he sits completely straight, fidgeting with a strawberry starburst; his fingers are lovely, long and slightly bent in places.

i just need to get away for a little while.

oh, how fate works in the most wild ways.

“so do i,” you say. “i need to get away, too.”

his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “really? is that why you’re here?”

“i’m kind of looking for a place to start fresh, i suppose, yeah. i woke up this morning, grabbed my bag and just. . . walked here. i have enough money for a decent train fare, but i don’t have any plans.” you shrug, awkwardly glancing to the floor. “i don’t think i really thought it through, though, because now i have no idea what i’m doing.”

“well, that’s the fun, isn’t it?” the man nudges your arm. when you look at him, he’s grinning again, tiny little dimples appearing just beneath the points of his mouth. “don’t be scared. it’ll work out. what’s the worst that could happen?”

your stomach turns; you were kind of hoping he wouldn’t ask that question, because that means you have to actually ponder over everything that could possibly go wrong, and you’ve got a list. a mental list, compiled from the very moment you decided this was your next course of action.

the man must notice your sudden hesitation, as his eyes widen and he leans forward, trying desperately to meet your gaze before you fall too deeply into your own pessimistic thoughts. “okay, maybe i shouldn’t have said that. look, let’s not think about the worst that could happen, alright? how about we start by making sure this is something you actually want to do.”

“it is.” the affirmative spills from your mouth with no hesitation. “i need to do this. i need to.”

the man nods. “good. that’s alright, then. next step is probably figuring out where you actually want to go.”

you risk another glance at the red words flashing above your head; they look no less daunting than they did the first time you looked at them. so many places, so many opportunities, and you’re not sure whether you’ll fit in with any of them.

but you have to make your decision now. you have roughly half an hour to make your mind up, buy a ticket and get on that god damn train, so you really shouldn’t be wasting any more time.

“Gwangju doesn’t sound like a bad shout.”

the man’s eyebrows shoot up once again. “really?”

you shrug. “well, you brought it up. i’ll give it a go.”

he grins. “it really is a great place. we can get the train together.” he stands up. “come on, let’s get you a ticket.”

and so, it begins.

your heart doesn’t steady the entire time. you buy a ticket with the man - seokjin, you learn- by your side before the two of you take a seat at the edge of the platform, waiting patiently for the train to arrive. he pulls out a bag of pretzels and shares them with you, even though your stomach feels like it’s going to turn inside out with every bite; you’re too nervous to do anything besides nod and hum to everything seokjin is trying to explain, and he’s trying to explain an awful lot.

he goes into detail about the sights of Gwangju, and how he’s booked a B&B, and it’s going to be such a fun trip. you have so many questions about why he’s doing this, how he has the confidence to just get up and leave home like he has no commitments to anything. the questions don’t make an appearance, though, because you’re fairly certain opening your mouth will result in you vomiting all over the place.

finally, after what feels like forever, the train comes screeching to a halt and the doors open. you’re frozen in place for a moment, seokjin staring at the side of your head, waiting for you to make the first move. you kind of appreciate the way in which he waits, how he’s not pushing you to just get up and do it; if you really wanted to turn your back on this opportunity now, he wasn’t going to stop you.

you inhale and rise on shaky legs. seokjin follows close behind, letting you guide him to the train. you clamber on board and grab a seat, seokjin sitting down beside you. he pushes his hood off his head once he’s finally seated, letting out a quiet sigh of relief; his black hair sticks up, only getting worse when he runs his nimble fingers through the strands.

“are you nervous?”

“i think that’s pretty obvious.”

seokjin chuckles, flopping back in his seat with a lazy grin. “i know. i just thought i should get you to speak to maybe take your mind off things.”

you sigh; you have to admit, now that you’re on the train, and you know you’re not fully, fully alone, your nerves are dissipating just a little bit. you can breathe a bit better than before, and you haven’t had the urge to burst into tears in nearly an entire hour - it’s progress.

“so,” he continues. “are you going to explain to me what’s really going on here?”

you flick your eyes up, raising a brow. “i didn’t lie; i was being serious when i said i just needed to get out of here.”

“yeah, i get that, but surely there must be something else to it. not everyone just. . . leaves.”

“isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

seokjin shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. he’s slouched in his chair now, legs spread, head tilted back. he’s so low that you have to look down to address him. “i travel for work, if you must know. getting on trains and travelling the country isn’t something i’m not used to. you, however, didn’t even know how to work the train system.”

you scowl. “that’s not true. i could have handled this on my own perfectly fine.”

“i don’t doubt that. i’m just saying, i’m still not convinced you’re telling me everything.”

“and why should i? i don’t even know who you are.”

seokjin hums, staring out into the aisle as more people clamber onto the train; it’s getting very full now, with some people having to stand as the seats become more and more occupied.

“good point,” he says. “at least tell me this; on a scale of one to ten, how prepared are you for this trip?”

you don’t hesitate. “zero.”

seokjin’s eyebrows rise. “z-zero? like, you have no preparation whatsoever?”

“i have my bag with me.”

seokjin waits.

you don’t say anything else, because you have nothing else to say. you have the clothes in your bag, and the money in your wallet, and that is all.

“i was planning on making the big decisions once i actually got to where i’m going,” you elaborate.

“do you have any friends in Gwangju?”

“no.”

seokjin struggles to push himself upright. “do you even have a place to stay?”

“i literally didn’t even know i would be on this train a few hours ago; of course i don’t have a place to stay.”

seokjin looks borderline horrified, all wide eyes and open mouth. he’s staring at you like you have two heads, waiting for you to say “sike!” and put him out of his misery.

you glance down at your hands. “have you got any of those pretzels left?”

“christ, y/n, you’re really taking this spontaneity thing to a whole new level. a dangerous level.”

you roll your eyes, even though you know he’s right. “i’ll be fine. i have enough money for a B&B for at least a night or two, and after that, we’ll see what happens-”

“you’ll see what happens?”

“why are you so worried? i’m fine! i’ll be fine!”

seokjin shakes his head, eyes still wide. “i’m not going to let you walk around an unfamiliar city with nothing but your good intentions; you can stay with me at the B&B for a while - until you get yourself on your feet.”

you blink, certain you’ve heard him wrong.

he slouches again, shaking his head as he murmurs about how some people can be so dumb, and how he never would have helped you follow through with such an insane plan, and how you pulled on his heartstrings when he saw you crying, how he shouldn’t be so nice because then he ends up on trains to Gwangju with people who clearly have some kind of death wish-

you slap his shoulder.

“ow!” he glares at you. “what was that for?”

“i’m not raiding your fucking B&B.”

he rubs his shoulder. “you’ve got no other options. two nights isn’t going to be enough to find you a job, or a decent place to live - keep that money you were going to spend on a B&B and use it for - like - travelling to job interviews or something.”

“i don’t even know who you are!” and that seems to be the main argument here, the most valid. you genuinely have no idea who this bloke is, besides his name and a few weird facts he felt the need to tell you whilst you were waiting for your train to arrive.

he shrugs like such a fact is no big deal. “i’ll take a thank you, actually.”

you scowl, glaring at him, but he doesn’t look up. stubborn little bastard. instead, he tilts his head out and stares back through the centre of the train, that infuriating little smirk on his face that tells you he knows he’s getting on your nerves, and doesn’t really care.

you cross your arms over your chair and slouch in the same way he is. “fine. but if you murder me-”

“i won’t murder you.”

“how do i know that for definite?”

he shrugs. “you don’t. but you’re more likely to die from hypothermia after you end up homeless on the streets of Gwangju in the middle of winter.”

that shuts you right up. he has a point, and though you barely know him, you have been given no reason to truly believe he is out to harm you in any way, shape or form.

and so, in your huff, you pull your headphones from your bag and place them on your head. you blast music, ignoring seokjin’s eye roll; you know you’re being petty, but so what? you’re tired, and hungry, and his stubbornness has somehow managed to wriggle under your skin moreso than you thought possible. you’re not usually a very angry person - you let people get away with lots of things - but there’s something in the way seokjin talks, something in the way he looks at you, something in the way he is that just. . . gets to you a little bit.

it’s probably mean. judgemental. it’s one of those things your dad used to scold you for, one of those things you grew out of after your first year in school. but here it is, making a comeback specially for this stranger sat beside you.

the train travels for another hour and a half before finally coming to a halt in Gwangju station. you stare out the window, watching the bright blue pillars come into view, the flocks of people swarming the platform. people in business suits, with briefcases and grimaces on their faces. seagulls are pecking at discarded food on the floor. a child is throwing a tantrum whilst his mother hastily pats her coat pockets for any sign of her train ticket.

seokjin nudges your arm, even though he can see you staring out the window. “we’re here.”

“is it always this hectic?” you ask, tugging your headphones off your head.

“at this time of day, yeah.” he glances at his watch. “we should probably get going pretty soon if we want to grab a taxi; they’ll be packed right now.”

and so, you follow seokjin off the train, through the station and out into the world.

it’s not too unfamiliar; you’ve been to places like this. your home town was pretty densely populated, so the crowds do not faze you. the only thing is, this isn’t your home town, and that’s the part that’s getting to you.

it’s so similar, but you’re too aware of the chance to take that into consideration.

there are tall buildings, and small buildings, and tiny shops with smoke billowing from chimneys. the air is crisp and cold, forcing you to wrap your coat a little tighter around yourself. you’re standing stock still at the top of the station stairs, and yet already you are overwhelmed with the abundance of opportunities already throwing themselves headfirst into your life.

you’re going to throw up.

seokjin’s gentle touch on your elbow draws you back to reality. you inhale sharply, tugging your hand into your chest.

“what?”

he raises a brow. “you’re still in a mood with me?”

you scowl, dropping your hand to your side. “sorry. no. i just - i’m a little jumpy, that’s all.” you offer him a grin, tired and probably not worth the bother, but it’s something you hope he’ll accept given the circumstances. “let’s find that taxi, shall we?”

it takes a while, but eventually you and seokjin manage to clamber into a taxi together. when you offer to pay half the fare, seokjin glares and shoves your hand away, which only frustrates you. you say nothing, though, because you don’t want to seem ungrateful.

especially when you pull up to the B&B.

because it’s glamorous.

more glamorous than it has any right to be.

honestly, what kind of B&B has a chandelier in the room? not only that, but there’s a grand double bed in the centre, two bedside tables each adorned with a pitcher of ice cold water, plus a massive television set on a chest of drawers at the front of the room. the window, covered by a set of black out curtains, looks out over the city. in darkness, Gwangju looks like something straight out of a film. there’s a christmas tree glistening in the distance, and a few people dressed as elves are walking around, taking pictures with kids.

“okay,” you say. “this isn’t really what i was expecting.”

seokjin is shedding his coat, barely even giving the tremendous room a once-over. he glances over his shoulder, frowning when he notices you just standing in the doorway, your coat still on, your bag still on, your jaw dropped open.

“what do you mean?” he asks. “take your coat off, bloody hell. i’ve turned the heating on. it’s gonna get boiling in here in about two minutes.”

hesitantly, you tug your coat from your shoulders, letting all your belongings clatter to your feet. seokjin straightens up, turning to you with his hands on his hips.

“are you okay?”

“seokjin, this room is so fucking expensive.”

he raises a brow. “how do you know that?”

you gesture to the room in question, as if that is answer enough.

and to any normal person, it certainly would be. nobody goes to a B&B expecting glamour, but that’s exactly what you’ve been given, and you’re shocked to find that seokjin isn’t even mildly surprised by it. he isn’t even taking the time to admire the thick material of the duvet.

the duvet of the only bed in this entire room, but that’s a problem you’ll sort out when it’s actually time to sleep.

seokjin glances around, that eyebrow of his still raised. “i stay here every time i come to Gwangju.”

“oh, good for you!” you push the door closed and dart towards the bed. flopping on your back, you wriggle your fingers, digging them into the duvet. “i could suffocate under this, you know.”

seokjin rolls his eyes, strolling over to where you have unceremoniously abandoned your things by the door. he picks them up and lobs them onto the sofa at the other end of the room, before turning back to witness your episode of complete fascination.

“so this is all it takes to get you out of your mood?”

your smile drops. “i wasn’t in a mood.”

“you seemed pretty moody to me. you didn’t say a word to me the entire train ride.”

heat rushes to your face; okay, maybe you let your nerves get the better of you. in all honesty, seokjin didn’t necessarily do anything wrong - yes, he was stubborn, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but he clearly has your best interests at heart. he’s giving you a room to stay in. he’s put up with you this entire time, and he hasn’t even known you a full day.

you sigh, hands dropping on your stomach. “okay, sorry. you’re right. i was a tiny bit moody, but i was just tired. and hungry.”

“you could have said that.” seokjin gestures towards the bed. “pick what side you want and i’ll go order us dinner.”

it takes you a minute to register what he’s just said.

when you do, you scramble upright, stopping him in his tracks. his hand is inches away from the phone, but he pauses to glance at you.

“what is it now?”

“we’re sharing a bed?” you bounce on the mattress, exaggerating your point. “like, this bed?”

“do you see any other bed in the room?”

you look around as if doing so will somehow manifest a single bed into your space. you’ll even take a camp bed at this point. a pull-out sofa. your standards aren’t high.

“i snore, you know,” you blurt out.

seokjin tilts his head. his smile reappears, those dimples showing beneath his mouth; they’re not cheek dimples by any means, but they border on cheek dimples, and they’re cute either way.

you don’t know why you’re focusing on them so much.

“i don’t mind,” he says. “i’ll be asleep anyway.”

“i also move around a lot,” you barrel on. “i might kick you, or hit you by accident. i once gave my best friend a nose bleed when she was staying over at my house.”

seokjin nods, reaching for the telephone. you can tell he’s turning your voice into background noise now, probably fed up with hearing your excuses.

“seokjin, sharing a bed with a stranger is weird,” you whine.

“feel free to sleep on the floor then,” he hisses over his shoulder. “now what do you want to eat?”

the mention of food is enough to bring you back to your senses. you bounce off the bed and grab the menu at the side of the phone, flicking through it as seokjin makes idle conversation with the girl on the other end; apparently, the two of them know each other. he’s calling her lily - a first name basis kind of thing. you can’t help your teasing grin, flicking your eyes to him every now and then.

finally, he nudges your elbow and says, “can i have...”

you point to each of the meals you want, and seokjin reels them off to dear old lily. he places his own order, says goodbye and sets the telephone down.

“happy days,” he says. “she says that should be about ten minutes; you ordered a lot of food.”

“i’m hungry,” you reply.

“no shame in that.” he glances at the clock hung upon the wall. “i’m gonna go grab a shower and get into my pyjamas before the food gets here. unless you want to go in first?”

you wave a dismissive hand. “i’m just gonna throw on a movie. anything you want to watch?”

“surprise me.” with that, he scoops up his pyjamas and heads into the en-suite bathroom, locking the door behind him.

---

the food arrives exactly twelve minutes after seokjin set the phone down.

you’ve been counting.

you had thrown on the movie Elf, basking in seokjin’s groan when he emerged from the bathroom - all wet hair and cute pyjamas - to see your film of choice. nonetheless, the two of you are sat in bed when the doorbell rings, laughing as will ferrel scoops a forkful of spaghetti mixed with sweets into his mouth and makes a comment about how tasty it is.

“i always wanted to try that,” you say to seokjin’s back when he stands to get the door. “i think it would be a real experience.”

“oh, definitely.” he pulls open the door. “hello. yes, that’s for us. thank you. thank you, alright. yeah. yeah. thank you. okay, bye! bye!” he closes the door and wheels the tray of food into the centre of the room. you bound away from your pillows, grabbing the first bowl you can get your hands on - just plain old rice, but you dig in nonetheless.

seokjin grabs the chopsticks and dips them into the bowl you are holding, taking a lump of rice for himself. you set the bowl down between you, giving him easier access.

“i can cook, you know.”

he says this so off-handedly, not even looking up from the phone in his lap. you, however, pause, chopsticks halfway to your mouth.

“you can cook?”

he nods. “been cooking with my mum and dad since i was a kid. it’s kind of a skill of mine.”

you drop your chopsticks into the bowl. “alright, fess up. is there anything you can’t do?”

he smirks, still not looking up. it’s a little bit cocky, and it sends a surprising thrill up your spine to see it.

you nudge his arm. “i’m serious.”

“i’ll cook something for you one day, how about that? then you can decide if cooking counts as something i can do.”

you nod; it’s a promising deal, though you can’t help but ponder over the hidden promises beneath those words. one day, a phrase often used to describe a time in the future.

which means he wants to see more of you.

it’s embarrassing that such a thought pushes to the forefront right now. again, you are reminded of just how little time you have spent with this man, a man who is essentially a stranger and nothing more, a man who has proven quite capable of getting on your nerves.

it strikes you then, with this little fact in mind, that you don’t know an awful lot about him. granted, you haven’t exactly had the time to dive deep into the kind of person he is, but you haven’t really made much of an effort, either. you spent half the train ride in a huff, and most of your time spent in the B&B has been spent fawning over the details of lavish living.

now, however, you stare at the side of his face. his jaw twitches as he eats, his eyes narrowing when he bites into a particularly strange piece of rice; he coughs into his fist, shakes his head and continues eating. he looks up once, meets your eyes and gives you the tiniest of smiles.

“what do you do for a living?”

it’s not exactly the first thing you want to know, but it feels like a good enough segway into his entire life story that you just roll with it.

his chewing slows. “me?”

“yes. you.” you take a bite of some beef in black bean sauce. “not just anyone can afford to stay in a place like this every other week. what’s your secret, seokjin?”

“i’m a chef,” he replies.

simple as that, you suppose. he’s a chef. he cooks for a living.

“do you travel to different restaurants?” you press.

“i’m pretty well-known around these parts; whenever certain restaurants are short on staff, i’ll go and help out.”

“so you must be pretty popular.”

he shrugs, the tiniest pink hue adorning his cheeks.

“you know, you look a little young to be a fully qualified chef.” you pause. “what age are you?”

“i’m twenty-six.”

“oh. good. i’m twenty-four.”

“and what does a twenty-four year old runaway do for a living?”

you scowl. “i’m not a runaway; my family and friends all know i’m here.”

he points his chopsticks at you. “from what i saw, you didn’t even know you would end up here before i showed up.”

he has a point.

you pop another bit of beef into your mouth, taking your time to chew. he asked you a question. you registered that question, and you have an answer, but it feels a little anticlimactic in comparison to the answer he was able to give.

seokjin narrows his eyes at your silence. he swallows the rice in his mouth and leans forward, fighting to meet your eyes in that same way he did back at the station. “so? what do you do?”

“i used to work at a chinese takeout restaurant.”

you wince, waiting for him to burst out laughing.

“what do you usually get from a chinese takeout?”

you look up. “what?”

already, he is back to chewing his food, rifling through a carton of vegetables with his chopsticks. “what is your go-to meal from a chinese restaurant? i’m a big fan of the sweet and sour, but you can’t go wrong with a curry, either.”

you nod. “yeah. yeah, i like chicken curry, too.”

seokjin smiles around his chopsticks, and for just a moment, all you can do is stare at him. you’ve found yourself doing that an awful lot recently, just sitting there with your eyes trained on his face, him none the wiser to your gaze. he looks around the room, chewing thoughtfully, before his eyes widen and he grabs the television remote from the bedside table. he says nothing to explain his actions, simply turns the television on and crawls back to his pillows, where he lays over the top of the comforter, his bowl of rice balanced on his chest.

he switches netflix on. “have you ever watched the haunting of hill house?”

“no.” you crawl to your own pillows, flopping down beside him. “is it scary?”

“it’s creepy,” he replies. “think you can handle it?”

glancing down, you catch sight of his playful smirk.

you roll your eyes and say, “put it on.”

and so, seokjin does just that. together, the two of you eat and binge watch this creepy, confusing tv show. by the end of it, you’ve both crawled beneath the covers and are trying desperately not to jump at the jump scares; seokjin laughed at you the first time you did it, before nearly spilling his black bean sauce over his pyjama shirt when he did the exact same thing a few minutes later.

“i hated that,” you say once the final episode drifts to a close. “i hated that so much.”

seokjin places the empty bowls on the floor before slumping further down in the comforter. “it’s good, isn’t it? gets me every time!”

“next time, i get to pick what we put on tv.”

he raises a brow. “and what would you pick?”

you hum thoughtfully. “i kind of want to rewatch the one direction movie.”

“good choice.”

“but that’s for tomorrow.” you tug the quilt up to your chin, snuggling within it’s warmth; you’re still quite freaked out, glancing round the now-dark room, half expecting some creepy, paranormal figure to jump out of the darkness. “for now, i’m going to sleep.”

“what are your plans for tomorrow?”

your stomach curls. “i gotta just. . . get my life together, i suppose. might go job hunting.”

“i have work in the morning, but you can call me if you need anything.”

you blink, glancing over at him; he’s doing it again, that thing where he says such kind, heartfelt things to a complete stranger and doesn’t even seem fazed by it. he just rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and drifts off to sleep.

----

seokjin is already gone when you wake up. he’s left a note. it’s simple: “off to work. here’s my number.”

followed, as promised, by his number.

you punch the digits into your own phone and try to ignore the spiralling question of how you’re going to pay your phone bill at the end of the month. you have high hopes that you’ll have found your footing by then, gotten a job, have enough money saved up to get a decent flat you can call your own.

it’s just a matter of taking the steps to get there.

you get dressed in a nice turtle neck jumper, coloured black for good measure. pairing it with a pair of fancy grey trousers and a pair of black boots, you head out onto the streets of Gwangju, and are abruptly reminded of the fact you have never walked through these streets in your life.

everything is so new. you have to walk with your head ducked down, glancing at Google Maps every few steps because you honestly have no idea where you’re going. after searching up job vacancies nearby, you start your journey to the nearest one.

it’s a clothing store. the boss isn’t in, so you leave.

the second one is a little more promising; they let you leave your cv at the front desk, and the boy working seems nice enough to actually pass your details on to his manager. however, you don’t get much further than that, and you move on to the next one.

it’s a bakery.

it’s a small bakery, most likely a family-run business. as soon as you walk in, you’re greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and a smile peeking over the counter top; it’s a boy about your age, a flop of black hair covering one of his eyes. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing some muscular arms. he’s got an apron on, too, that says ‘Kiss the Cook’ on the front, but no name badge is in sight.

“morning,” he says, despite it literally being 12:30pm. “you doing alright?”

you run your hands through your hair; was he asking you that just out of kindness, or because you look dishevelled? you feel dishevelled, but you were hoping you had managed to pull yourself together a little bit before walking in here.

he tilts his head. “what can i get you?”

startled back to reality, you rush to the counter. placed in batches is piles upon piles of pleasant looking treats, all looking fresh from the oven.

“hi,” you begin. “uh - hi, yeah. i was looking on the internet earlier and saw you had a job going? i was just wondering if that’s - uh - still a thing?”

the boys face lights up. “you saw the advertisement? that’s a first!”

“yeah?”

“dad! dad, we’ve got someone here asking about the advertisement!”

startled, you step back. an older, black haired man rushes from a room in the back, wiping his fingers on a towel. he’s frowning, but the expression quickly morphs into one of glee when he sees you standing there.

“really?” he says. “well, isn’t that a damn miracle. i was starting to think i’d be in here for twelve hour days; my name’s robert, and this is my son, malachi.”

“y/n,” you reply. “so - uh - i’m guessing the job is still up for grabs?”

“it is indeed,” robert replies. “give me two minutes whilst i freshen up, and we can sit down and chat. sound good?”

your eyes widen. “really? do you not want to read my cv or anything?”

robert waves a dismissive hand. “i’ll learn more about you through actual conversation than i ever will through a piece of scrap paper.” he turns on his heel. “i’ll be out in two minutes!”

you are stunned. this really isn’t how you expected things to go, especially considering your bad luck these past few months.

the bakery goes silent. you stare into dead space, waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down; the building is going to suddenly set on fire, or robert is gonna pop his head round the door and say “sike!” and you’ll have to trudge back to the B&B and inform seokjin of your failures.

seokjin.

his name startles you back to reality. quickly, you grab your phone from your back pocket, pull up his number and send him a quick text.

hi. it’s y/n. might have a job. it’s at the bakery down the street. will keep you updated.

you debate signing your message off with a kiss, decide against it and stuff your phone back into your pocket. it’s only then do you notice malachi’s eyes trained on you; he leans over the counter, arms folded, the tiniest of smirk playing on his face.

he’s handsome in a weird way. he’s tall. he’s got messy black hair, and you’ve heard that’s what a lot of people are fawning over nowadays. it kind of reminds you of seokjin a little bit, though seokjin’s figure is a lot. . . kinder than this boys. seokjin’s lean and tall, muscles in just the right places. this boys hands look like they could choke you out in a matter of seconds.

his smile is pleasant, though. it brings a glint to his dark eyes. he hasn’t got any dimples on his chin.

one point for seokjin, you suppose.

you return his smile, suddenly a bit awkward beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. “so, robert’s your dad?”

“yep. known him my whole life.”

you laugh, because you’re pretty sure that’s a joke he’s just told. “it’s a nice place you’ve managed to run with him. very cosy. we don’t have places like this in Busan.”

malachi’s eyebrows raise. slowly, he straightens up. “you’re not from here?”

“afraid not. i moved here just yesterday, actually - kind of a spontaneous thing, but it’s been working for me so far.”

“all on your own?”

you pause. “well, not necessarily. my - uh - friend and i are here together.” yes. friend. you can call seokjin a friend. “he’s a chef.”

malachi hums like this is some kind of grand revelation. “a chef, eh? i heard they earn quite a bit of money.”

“oh, well, i don’t know. i don’t really ask him about his finances, if i’m honest.”

“and whereabouts are you two staying?”

“the B&B down the street.”

again, his eyebrows shoot up. “the lodge? that’s a pretty expensive place to stay.”

“we split the bill,” you say quickly, suddenly getting protective over seokjin; you’ve heard that tone in people’s voices before. malachi has probably made an entire sour opinion on seokjin purely because he’s been led to believe he’s rich.

“he works hard for his money,” you add, because you feel like you have to. “it exhausts him, poor guy, but he loves what he does.”

malachi stares at you. the pleasant grin from earlier has been wiped free from his face, replaced by a twist of his mouth. you look away, thankful to see robert bustling back, now wearing a clean white shirt free of apron and flour.

“sorry for keeping you,” he says. “let’s go out the back where it’s a little warmer. that weather today could kill!”

and so, shooting malachi one last smile, you follow his dad into the back. it is indeed very warm, the heat from the ovens immediately clinging to your skin. you shed your coat, throwing it over the back of your chair as robert takes a seat across from you and begins the interview.

it doesn’t last very long. robert doesn’t seem like the picky type, asking you about your family and where you’re from. he focuses very little on your level of experience, though you try your hardest to fit in all those stories of you growing up around bakers, just to give your reputation that little push.

he talks to you like you’re an old friend, laughing at your jokes, telling his own childhood stories. he’s a really easy guy to be around, making the interview feel more like a casual chat than an actual job interview.

finally, however, he claps his hands and says, “i think we have a winner!”

you blink. “wait, really?”

he reaches forward, grabs your hands and shakes them, both at the same time. “you’re a lovely person, y/n. i’d love nothing more than for you to be on our team.”

your heart thunders; that was so easy, too easy, but you’re not even going to ruin the moment by questioning it right now. instead, you grin and say, “i’d love that, thank you so much!”

----

when seokjin arrives back at the B&B, it is already dark out.

eleven pm, if the clock is to be trusted in this place. already, you’re sprawled across the double bed, television blasting, your phone held over your face. you’ve had a shower and tucked yourself into some pyjamas.

“you look comfortable.”

your head shoots up. “seokjin! did you get my text?”

he throws his coat from his shoulders, shaking the rain out of his dark hair. he looks exhausted, which makes you feel bad for having already taken up most of the bed, but you’re too excited to care too much.

“i got your first text,” he replies, tossing his gym bag on the bed. “did you end up getting that interview, then?”

“you bet i did!” you jump up, grinning from ear to ear. seokjin raises a brow, but chuckles when you throw your arms over his shoulders and say, “i got the job! i got the job! i got the job!”

he pulls away, holding you at arms length. his eyes are wide, that smile big across his face. “they gave you it then and there?”

“i make a wildly good first impression, seokjin, don’t you ever forget.”

he scoffs. “sorry. sometimes i forget considering the first time i saw you, you were bawling your eyes out in the middle of a train station.”

“literally no one asked you to remember that.” you pull him back in for a hug, squealing your excitement in his ear.

he laughs. his arms tighten around your waist, head nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and you might be imagining it, but you swear you can feel his joy, can hear it in his melodic laugh. he’s just as excited about this opportunity as you are, even though he has no reason to be.

you pull away, tipping back onto the mattress. “i start in two days time.”

“what are they gonna get you to do?”

“baking, i assume. working the tills. just. . . baker stuff.”

seokjin raises a brow, sitting down on the end of the bed. he smells like a kitchen. “do you actually know how to bake?”

“of course i know how to bake. i wouldn’t have gone for an interview at a bakery if i didn’t.”

“you never told me that.”

you pause. “sorry. i didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

seokjin shrugs, standing up again. he walks over to his luggage and tugs out another pair of pyjamas, this one adorned with little ducklings upon a blue background. “i just would have liked to know that, that’s all.”

you watch as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. seconds later, you hear water screeching out of the shower head, and you know then the conversation is over.

you aren’t really sure what to make of it.

he did seem a tad bit upset, but it’s difficult to tell with seokjin. you haven’t known him for very long at all, but within that short space of time, you’ve certainly been able to conclude that seokjin is more an optimist than a pessimist. he looks on the bright side of life, and even when he’s upset, he doesn’t really like to show it, like he’s afraid of spreading negativity.

it can’t be very healthy.

nonetheless, you were able to spot a few inconsistencies in his optimism during that conversation, and it makes you feel bad. you nuzzle beneath the covers and turn the television back on, wondering what on earth you did wrong.

----

work is hectic.

even though the bakery itself is never overly busy, there’s a lot to be done when it comes to hospitality. almost immediately you are put in charge of the tills, plus cleaning up when the mess gets too much. that means you spend your days darting back and forth between the front of the shop and the kitchen, trying to keep a healthy balance, but failing miserably.

malachi tells you it’s alright, that even he and robert struggle to stay on top of things, but it still puts you in a sour mood. you want to be good at this. it’s been a brilliant opportunity, and you’re not willing to spoil it just yet.

you’re on your second week of work when seokjin finally decides to pay a visit.

you know he got the day off, because you woke up this morning and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him still fast asleep beside you; it left your stomach in knots, your heart stumbling in your chest. it’s not like he shouldn’t have been there - he’s fallen asleep beside you every night for the past two weeks. however, you’ve never actually seen him there. he’s always gone when you wake up.

but this morning, you rolled over and was greeted, startlingly, by the sight of his sleeping face.

his peaceful, adorable sleeping face.

now, however, he’s spritely and awake. with two cups of coffee in his hand, he waltzes up to the counter and says, “cosy place.”

you grin, taking one of the cups from him. “isn’t it?

he inspects the tiny bakery with a smile on his face, those dimples popping just shy of the corners of his mouth. “you never told me how cute it was in here; i would have visited much sooner.”

“with your busy schedule? absolutely not.”

seokjin rolls his eyes. “i would have made the time.”

you ignore how this comment makes you feel. you’ve gotten increasingly good at doing that these past few days.

you lean over the counter, taking tiny sips of your coffee. “so, what have you been doing with all your spare time?”

“nothing,” he replies, a little too quick. “absolutely nothing. i had a few emails from the people back in Busan to deal with, but besides that, i’ve been sat in the B&B, watching netflix.”

“sounds like a dream.”

he shakes his head, the tiniest pout forming. “it’s awful. i’m bored. i’ve never been bored in the B&B before; i think you’re having a negative effect on me.”

you shoot upright, jaw dropping open. “excuse me? you can’t blame me for the fact you have no hobbies!”

“who said i have no hobbies?”

“the fact that all you’ve done is watch netflix today kind of eludes to the fact that you have no hobbies.”

seokjin scowls. the expression is adorable on him, with those stray dimples making an appearance. you really have to stop staring at those, because it’s going to get obvious pretty soon.

“i have plenty of hobbies,” he grumbles. “in fact, i’ve been invited out for a few drinks tonight with my friends.”

you pause. of course seokjin has friends. you were never under any illusion that he didn’t, but he doesn’t really talk about them. being locked up in a B&B with him for two weeks straight has given you plenty of time to pick his brain, analyse the life he used to life, and not once has he made any attempt to bring up these so-called friends.

“oh,” you manage. “that sounds like it’ll be fun.”

he hums cockily, like he’s just proved you wrong.

“getting drunk isn’t a hobby unless you’re an alcoholic, by the way.”

his smile drops. “i can never win with you, can i?”

you shrug. “i’m just saying. why don’t you take up painting, or playing the guitar?”

“okay, okay, i didn’t come in here for a therapy session; how much are those eclairs?”

you giggle, but nonetheless, you duck down and pluck an eclair from the display cabinet. you place it in a bag and hand it over to him before saying, “don’t worry about it. i’ll slip some cash in the register at the end of the night.”

seokjin pauses. his hand is inches away from the bag you’re holding out to him, those perfect fingers twitching like he has to physically restrain himself from snatching it out of your hand.

you shake the bag to get his attention, but his eyes never leave your face. it’s kind of intimate if you let yourself think too much into it. “do you want the eclair or not? i made it.”

he snatches his hand back dramatically. “never mind then. you can keep it.”

you roll your eyes, grab his hand and place the bag in his palm. “don’t play the gentleman, seokjin; we’re all friends here. it doesn’t make you any less of a man to have someone buy you a fucking eclair.”

you know how selfless seokjin is. of all the little quirks he has put on display for you since you met him, his selflessness has been the one that stands out the most. you see him battle with it now, the way he hesitates, the way his free hand twitches towards the wallet tucked into his back pocket. you give him one final look before he sighs and nods.

“thank you.”

“now, tell me a bit about these plans you have for later.” you sip your coffee. “are these friends good people? do i need to be worried?”

seokjin scoffs. “they are great people - i’ve known them for years. we’re just going out for a few drinks, a bit of a catch-up. nothing to be worried about.”

“so i’ll have the B&B all to myself, will i?”

he raises a brow. “don’t say it like that. you’re worrying me.”

you roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile rising on your face. seokjin notices your amusement and shakes his head, because he knows you’re just winding him up. in all honesty, it makes you kind of glad seeing him go off and do his own thing. these past two weeks have really opened your eyes to just how much he works, and just how little time he has for himself. he deserves a bit of time with his friends.

he leaves shortly after, claiming he has errands to run. he tells you to call him when you get home, and you agree to do so before waving him goodbye, watching through the window as he turns the corner and disappears amongst the crowd of people.

a hand lands on your shoulder.

you jump back, startled. malachi laughs, holding his hands up in faux surrender; he’s a got a grin on his face, dimpleless, unlike seokjin, who has dimples just beneath the corners of his mouth, tiny little indents in his chin that you can never take your eyes off, because they’re so cute, and he gets so flustered when you point them out, and-

“was that the husband?”

you blink, certain you’ve heard him wrong. “what?”

malachi nods towards the window. he’s got flour on his face, and you absentmindedly reach out and brush it off. “was that seokjin, or whatever his name is?”

“did you just call him husband?”

now it’s malachi’s turn to blink. he raises a brow, flicking his gaze between you and the door seokjin has just fled from. “is he not. . . do you two not live together?”

“in a way,” you reply. “but we’re not married. he’s my friend, that’s all.”

malachi scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “you had me fooled. ‘oh, call me when you get home!’ ‘have fun with your friends!’ ‘i’ll have the house all to myself!’ you certainly sound like an old married couple.”

you really can’t believe you’re hearing this.

it’s bizarre. utterly absurd. you and seokjin are definitely comfortable with each other at this point, but that doesn’t mean anything. he’s your friend - a good friend, your only friend in this new place.

plus, you don’t speak like an old married couple. that’s a stupid way to think. you two communicate like nothing more than two people who have been forced to sleep in the same bed for two weeks.

you shake your head. “i don’t even want to listen to this.”

“so you’re telling me i’m wrong?” malachi demands as you shove past him into the kitchen.

“yes, you are. that’s mental that you would even think that. i haven’t even known him that long-”

“again, you could have fooled me! the way you two look at each other, it’s like you share memories from years ago.”

you scowl, heat rising to your cheeks. “when the fuck did you become a poet?”

malachi only laughs. you want him to shut up, because this is out of order. this is making you more flustered than it has any right to, and you don’t want to get flustered when you’re working with hot ovens.

it’s not like he has any idea what he’s talking about. he’s seen the briefest glimpse of seokjin, certainly not enough to know how you two genuinely interact with each other. he hasn’t seen the bickering, the fights for the covers, seokjin huffing with you when you make him get up to turn the television off at the end of the night.

so why are you getting so worked up?

you push the question away as you get back to work, trying desperately to ignore malachi’s snickers every time he passes you; he knows what he’s done, of course, getting you all worked up like this, but you can’t help it. what if other people see you and seokjin like that? what if seokjin picks up on this assumption and decides to cut all ties with you, too afraid to be seen that close with someone like you?

maybe you’re panicking over nothing. seokjin is a nice guy - the best guy. he won’t just up and leave you because of what other people think.

but then again, you’ve only known him for two weeks, so who’s to say he won’t?

---

seokjin has already left when you arrive home later that evening.

it’s dark already, the winter showing it’s ugly head. little droplets of snow cling to your coat, your hair, your cheeks as you stumble through the door of your shared B&B, teeth gritted against the cold that has deemed your fingers and toes numb.

left upon the bedside table is a note, the unmistakeable scribble of seokjin’s handwriting informing you that he doesn’t know when he will be home, but he still expects you to give him a ring whenever you finish work. you read the note over and over, unexplainable joy flaring within your system with the knowledge that he was thinking of you before he left, that he still wants to make sure you got home safe.

you don’t call him.

the thing is, malachi’s words have grated against your skull worse than you thought they should. he spent the entire day teasing you about your ‘little crush’ on seokjin, clearly relishing in how it made you squirm. it made you think, too, which is the worst part. you’ve spent these past two weeks on complete autopilot, just trying to make a life for yourself now that you’ve got a clean slate. you never once stopped to think about something as simple as relationships, or feelings, but now that malachi has sprung such a topic to the forefront, you can’t deny that the only person you can associate with such topics is seokjin.

you can’t bring yourself to speak to him just yet. you’re too tired, and your body is sore, and you want nothing more than to crawl into bed and pretend today never happened.

so that’s exactly what you do. turning your phone on silent, you get in your pyjamas and snuggle beneath the covers, trying to ignore the empty space at the side of you.

----

you wake up to the sound of the door slamming.

your eyes snap open, heart jolting from your chest. for the briefest moment, you are entirely convinced you’re being robbed. any minute now, the barrel of a gun is going to be pointed at your face and you’ll have no choice but to give up all of your belongings, all of seokjin’s belongings, will probably be forced back to Busan because of your trauma, and-

“oh shit. are you sleeping?”

you bolt upright, tugging the quilt to your chin. standing in the doorway, seokjin looks tall, illuminated only by the hallway light outside. he’s wearing a fancy dress shirt and trousers, the top button undone to reveal sweat slicked collarbones, the sleeves rolled up to reveal perfectly muscled arms. his hair stands on end, and he’s got a pout on his face that reveals his drunkenness in all it’s glory.

your heartbeat slows.

“seokjin?”

he shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no. no, sh. go back to sleep. i didn’t mean to wake you up.”

his words are slurred. he’s definitely drunk.

he stumbles towards the bed, using the bedside table to stay upright. he blinks drearily when his eyes meet yours; despite having just spoken to you, he’s looking at you now like he’s only just realised you’re actually in the room.

he clicks his fingers. “i had something i wanted to say to you.”

you blink. “o-okay. do you want water first? you look a little-”

“it was really important,” he continues. “i’m pretty sure i was mad at you.”

you swing your legs out of bed. “okay, you definitely need water.”

you scramble to the sink, grabbing a glass from the counter and filling it with ice cold water. seokjin slumps on the bed, running his nimble fingers through his hair, mumbling incoherent words to himself.

looking at the clock, you see it is two in the morning; he has work in five hours, and is clearly in no state to do a full day of work. you make a mental note to ring the restaurant and tell them he’s taken ill.

you turn, placing the glass on the bedside table. “did you have a good time?”

“no,” he replies. “worried. i was worried the entire night.”

you raise a brow, trying your hardest not to look at the skin showing through his shirt. “worried? about what?”

he gestures, encompassing the entire room.

“seokjin, i can look after the room on my own, you know,” you say.

“i wasn’t worried about the room.” he scowls, glaring at the carpet like it’s upset his ancestors. “i couldn’t care less about the room. it’s whats in the room that worried me.”

you blink. “you’re losing me, mate.”

he groans, tossing his head back. the sudden jolt tips his entire body. you jump forward and grab his arm, stabilising him before he cracks his skull on the floor.

“seokjin, jesus christ, take a sip of your water.”

he pushes your hand away. “not thirsty. just worried.”

“about what?”

“you didn’t call me when you got home from work!”

you falter. you remember his note, of course, but you had promptly fell asleep before you could do as he’d asked; you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. however, he’s sat in front of you now with a pout on his face, eyes glaring like you’ve done something massively wrong.

you swallow, trying to ignore the butterflies rushing through your stomach. “y-you were worried about me?”

“i asked you to call me when you got home from work, and i didn’t get a single call the entire night. i thought you’d been kidnapped or something. the only reason i didn’t come storming back here was because my friends wouldn’t let me leave.”

he’s lying. of course he is. he’s lying, and he’s drunk, and he’s going to regret ever pouring his heart out like this tomorrow morning.

you hollow out your cheeks, overcome with a sudden wave of exhaustion. you gently pat his cheek, making his eyes widen.

“what are you doing?” he asks.

“i’m putting you to bed,” you reply, and even to yourself, your voice sounds tired, fed up, a mere drawl in the darkness. “you’re not going to work tomorrow, but you need to sleep this alcohol off. come on.”

he scowls, glancing down at his attire; he’s still in his day clothes. “i can’t sleep in jeans.”

you stare at him. he stares back at you, making no move to remove the clothes he has such a grudge against right now.

you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. “fine then.” with that, you grab his belt and unbuckle it. a sharp gasp slips past his lips that you do a fine job of ignoring, even as it makes your cheeks heat up, forcing you to bite down on your tongue. you tell yourself on a loop that you’re just doing a favour for a friend, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them from his legs. the entire time, he stares at you with his mouth slightly open, tanned cheeks glowing red more from the alcohol than anything else. even in his drunken state, his gaze makes you weak. you’re not even making eye contact with him, instead choosing to keep your eyes firm on your trembling hands.

when at last his jeans have been tossed across the room and he is left in a pair of boxers, you shove him back onto the bed and say, “now go to sleep. i’m gonna go for a shower.”

seokjin rolls his head back. he sinks into the pillows, one side of his face completely engulfed by the fabric. “but it’s so late! what if you drown?”

you head for the bathroom, trying to calm your stampeding heart. “i won’t drown. stop worrying about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he grumbles. “you’re special to me.”

you pretend you haven’t heard him. it’s so much easier than dealing with those words, than letting them wriggle into your brain, because they will do nothing but torment you the rest of the night.

you slip into the shower, and it is there that you let yourself dissolve. you’re so tired, limbs heavy, heart still racing. not even the spray of hot water is enough to wake you up - the only thing keeping you on your feet right now is the memory of his drunken words, spoken slurred and rushed. he probably didn’t even mean them, but that doesn’t take from the fact he said them, and you heard them, and they’re going to complete destroy you if you keep thinking about them.

---

seokjin nudges your shoulder.

your eyes fly open, head jolting up. your neck cracks, making you yelp and fall back against the pillows - unfamiliar pillows, considering you fell asleep on the sofa the night before.

you groan, rubbing the back of your neck as you slowly rise into a sitting position. seokjin stands over you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted. he doesn’t say anything as you bring yourself back to reality, glancing around the room like you’ve never seen it before.

he takes a step back; he’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and he’s got a mug of fresh coffee in his hands.

you reach up and take the mug. “thanks.”

“it wasn’t yours, but okay.” he sits down beside you, placing your legs in his lap. “is there a reason you fell asleep on the sofa last night? it doesn’t look very comfortable.”

you blink, because for just a moment, you don’t think there is a reason. you’re ready to tell him nope, it was an accident, you just drifted off, haha, silly you!

but last night doesn’t take long crawling back to the forefront of your mind. his words, his silly grin, your fingers on his belt buckle-

you swallow the scalding drink and say, “i thought you might have liked the bed to yourself after your wild night out.” you nudge his arm. “how are you feeling today anyway? hungover?”

he rubs his temple, though he doesn’t seem to be in too much pain; by the looks of things, he’s had a shower, which means he probably went for one of his morning runs beforehand. “i’ve got a bit of a headache, but nothing major. i don’t even remember how i got home.”

oh, thank god.

“i took care of you, don’t worry.”

seokjin scoffs. “i can see that. did i at least take my own trousers off?”

you take another hasty sip of coffee. “yes, of course. i wouldn’t go near that area with a six foot pole.”

seokjin rolls his eyes before standing up. he stretches his arms over his head, revealing a tiny lick of skin just above the waistband of his sweats. you look away sharply, causing another painful snap to course down your neck.

you wince. “fucking hell.”

he looks over his shoulder. “what?”

“just my neck.”

he drops his hands to his sides, turning to face you. his eyes narrow as he watches you rub the back of your neck, twisting your head from side to side in any attempt to get rid of the burning sensation dancing along the top of your spine. finally, he sits back down, puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you away from him.

you falter. “uh, seokjin?”

“i learned this when i was in Daegu a few years back.” he digs his fingers into the base of your neck, and immediately a pressure is released. it’s a pressure you didn’t even realise was there.

it disintegrates beneath his fingers, only to be replaced by another pressure, completely unrelated to mere muscle pain. it settles in your stomach, makes you stiffen beneath his grip, and he must notice, because he chuckles, and it takes the form of a breeze blowing against the back of your neck.

you swallow. this really isn’t how you should be feeling right now. this entire situation should not be happening. seokjin is your friend. he’s that guy who saved you from a potential, second mental breakdown. he’s that guy you share a bed with completely out of inconvenience. he’s the guy you tease and eat dinner with.

he’s seokjin.

despite being fully aware of how out of place this entire experience is, you make no effort to shift away from him. in fact, almost against your will, you sink closer to him, your back hitting against his knees, and again, that gentle breeze tickles the back of your neck.

“good?” his voice is gruff, quiet.

“good.” your voice is high pitched, embarrassing.

seokjin chuckles again, a third time, before you feel his lips against your shoulder blade.

the sensation is wild. it’s such a simple touch, nothing more than a peck against your flesh, but it sends your brain into a spiral. you hate yourself for it, how such a simple action can destroy you in seconds.

and it’s destroying you, sending your brain into overdrive, but you want more of it. you desperately, desperately want more of it, and maybe that’s why you lean into his touch. maybe that’s why you let his hands slide around your waist. maybe that’s why you close your eyes, tilt your head back into the crook of his neck, let his plump lips explore your neck. you are in complete bliss, unable to even form words, fairly certain you’re losing yourself in-

the phone rings.

you jolt away from him, gasping as reality floods back into you. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck, you can’t believe you just did that. you can’t believe you let yourself get lost like that.

you jump up from the sofa and rush for the phone, too scared to spare seokjin a glance. he isn’t saying anything, which can only be a bad sign, and quite frankly, you haven’t even got your head screwed on well enough to deal with that.

you grab the phone and pull it to your ear, all without looking at the caller id.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

you inhale sharply. “robert. fuck. i’m late, aren’t i?”

“are you well? it’s not like you to be late.”

you run a hand through your hair, glancing at the clock on your nightstand - you’re only late by fifteen minutes, but that doesn’t change anything. you got distracted. you should have been paying closer attention.

“i’m fine. sorry. so sorry. just - uh - slept in. i slept in. i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

robert replies. you’re certain of it, but you don’t pick up on what he’s said. you slam the phone back down and spin, finally looking at seokjin. he’s dazed, staring back at you with eyes blown wide and mouth slightly open, slightly swollen, damp from where his tongue has surely traced patterns over them since you stood up.

you swallow thickly. “i have to go to work.”

“y/n-”

“you don’t have to say anything.” you snatch your keys off the bedside table, along with your phone and a pen that you don’t even need, but you just want to grab more stuff, just want to feel the heavy weight of objects in your hands. “i get it, okay? that was weird. we were both lost in the moment. you don’t have to explain yourself.”

he opens his mouth to reply, but you’re on a roll with cutting people off before you can hear what they have to say. you dart out the door, yelling “see you later!” over your shoulder before the door slams closed behind you.

you waste no time. if you stop, you’re going to think, and the kinds of thoughts that will surely rush to the surface are not the kind you want to be dealing with right now.

you arrive at the bakery in ten minutes, feet aching from how harshly they were slamming against the pavement in the cold, wet rain. nonetheless, you don’t care. you genuinely don’t care, not when you pull your coat off and slip your apron over your head, immediately snatching the oven gloves out of malachi’s hands.

his head snaps up. that award winning grin flashes across his face when he says, “y/n! you made it!”

“what are we making?” you ask.

malachi’s smile slips. “uh. . . i mean, it’s not that busy. there’s no rush. if you wanna grab a coffee or something before you start-”

“i’ll make muffins.”

malachi blinks. you don’t humour him with a response, instead getting to work immediately. you can feel him watching you from across the kitchen, dark eyes burning holes into the back of your head. you just keep working, even though your hands are beginning to tremble, and you can still feel seokjin’s mouth on your bare skin. your heart is yet to recover, still beating erratically in your chest.

“y/n?” malachi mumbles. “are you sure everything’s alright?”

you remember his words from the previous day, how bizarre they sounded when you first heard them; it just didn’t make any sense at the time that anyone would think seokjin had feelings for you, that he looked at you as anything more than a friend. you had gone home entirely convinced that you and seokjin would remain friends, and that was all, whether you liked it or not.

but then he just has to go and do that, messing up every logical thought you once held.

you don’t even know if he likes you like that, or if it really was just a spur of the moment thing. he might have still had alcohol in his system. maybe he didn’t even know what he was doing.

malachi’s hand on your shoulder startles you. you yelp, hands twitching, warm pan crashing to the floor.

“woah!” malachi grabs you, dragging you back before you can burn yourself. “careful there, mate.”

you close your eyes. “fuck, i’m sorry. i didn’t-”

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong with you today or are we just gonna keep having incidents like this?”

you meet his gaze; there is no malice in his words, no threat or disappointment. he’s worried about you.

you sigh, falling back against the counter. “just. . . seokjin things.”

malachi pauses. “seokjin? the husband?”

“he’s not my-”

“the guy you live with? the guy who was here yesterday?”

“that’s the one.”

malachi picks up the warm pan with a towel. “what has he done? he seemed like a nice bloke.”

“he’s an amazing bloke,” your quick to say, though the words make your cheeks heat up. “he really is amazing. he’s just also . . . very confusing.”

malachi raises a brow. “confusing how?”

“confusing. . .” you gesture vaguely, as if that in itself is a good enough adjective to describe just how confusing seokjin is.

malachi nods like he understands. he leans against the counter, shoulder brushing yours. for just a moment, it truly feels like there is nothing left to say; how do you comfort someone in a situation like this? how do you comfort anyone, let alone a person you’ve known for only a handful of days, someone you only know the bare bones about.

nonetheless, malachi’s silence is reassuring. it calms you down to a point where you can gently take the pan from his hand and set it on the counter, your breathing straying back to a normal rhythm.

“so,” he begins once you start gathering random ingredients. “correct me if i’m wrong, but i’m guessing seokjin did something that messed with your feelings a little bit?”

you bite your lip, and that is response enough.

“ah.” he pauses for another brief moment. “you weren’t uncomfortable with any of it, were you? ‘cause i’ll hang him up by his balls if he-”

“no!” the word is ripped from your throat, urgent. “no, malachi, it was nothing like that. seokjin would never do anything like that.”

“then what did he do?”

“he kissed me.” you pause. “kind of.”

malachi’s eyebrows rise. you watch the cogs turning his brain, probably trying to understand the riddle you have just presented him.

you hasten to clarify. “him and i have been purely friends from the moment we met. we live together just for convenience. he never showed signs of wanting to date anyone, let alone date me, and then this morning he just. . . got a little touchy, and it confused me, because i always just thought he didn’t want that kind of relationship with me.”

“sounds like an awful lot of information on what he wants rather than what you want.”

you frown. “what i want doesn’t matter.”

malachi stares at you. you stare back, because you don’t want to think about what you want. you don’t want to dig into that dark crevice of your mind until everything else is sorted; you have to get your own life together before you can start thinking about sharing that life with someone else.

especially someone like seokjin.

someone who is perfect. someone who seems to have everything under control. he’s only young, not even thirty, and yet he’s travelling korea, cooking in top class restaurants, going out with friends who love him. he’s essentially living the dream.

you’re just the person who intruded on that dream-like life, stumbling through your own life tragically.

you look away as the thought strikes you; again, you can’t focus on that kind of thing. it’s scary. it’s uncharted territory, and you won’t let yourself be engulfed by it.

---

when you arrive home, seokjin is cooking dinner.

“ooh, something smells good!” you exclaim, trying to ignore the frantic thump of your heart.

seokjin glances over his shoulder; his cheeks are burning red, an apron placed over his pyjamas. his hair is ruffled, and you know for a fact he’s only just now getting out of bed. he probably spent the entire day watching tv, and honestly, you envy him for it. your feet are aching for the long hours you put in at the bakery, and you want nothing more than to curl up and turn on some eastenders.

“you’re home!” he replies.

“i’m home.” you shake your coat off and approach. “what are you making?”

“spaghetti bolognese. something simple.”

“i never took you as the type to do anything simple.”

he grins, shooting you a wink. you hide your smile with an eye roll and grab some bowls from the cupboards, setting them down beside his work station before getting to work on grating the cheese; you know seokjin loves to smother his spaghetti in cheese. you’ve teased him about it on countless occasions.

“so, how was work?” he asks, scooping the pasta into two bowls.

“quiet,” you reply. “malachi and i did some inventory for the ingredients, and robert was gone half the day for a business meeting.”

“must have been pretty stressful.”

you shrug, nodding a thanks as seokjin passes you your dinner. “it was nice. there weren’t too many customers in, so it was pretty chill.”

seokjin sits down beside you, shoulder brushing yours.

you frown, glancing at his bowl. “how come you got more pasta than me?”

“i cooked it.” he twirls some pasta onto his fork and shoves it in his mouth. “therefore, i get the majority of it.”

“i was at work all day, starved to near insanity-”

“bit dramatic.”

“let me have some!”

before seokjin can move, you dig your fork into his bowl, scoop some pasta up and slap it back into your own. seokjin’s eyes widen, splutters slipping past his lips. you simply grin, popping a forkful into your mouth.

“you know,” he begins, voice low, “i would have given you some if you’d given me the chance.”

“that’s alright. i’ve got it now.”

seokjin scowls, slumping back against the sofa. he stares at the side of your head for what feels like forever, and you feel every goosebump his gaze induces.

he hasn’t brought up what happened that morning, which doesn’t make you feel too good. you spent the entire day reliving the scene in your head, feeling the echo of his lips against your shoulder blade, and he’s sat beside you now, pretending nothing even happened. does he do that with lots of people? is he just a natural flirt and you never even picked up on it?

because, at the end of the day, you really don’t know seokjin all that well. you’ve grown fond of his personality and him as a person, but how much does that tell you about a person? not an awful lot, that’s for sure.

you squirm a little, unable to hide your mild discomfort; there’s a tension pressing between you both, but you don’t know if he feels it, too. when you glance over your shoulder, he’s just lounging, that stupid smile on his face, staring at you like he knows how flustered you are and siphons nothing but joy from it.

you’re going to explode. any minute now, your body is going to go up in flames. you need to say something. you need to do something.

so you turn, open your mouth and-

his lips are on yours in seconds.

how he moved so fast, you are unsure, but the question doesn’t even matter as you melt into his grip entirely against your will. his lips mould against yours, so perfect, made for each other, but there is a voice in the back of your head screaming that this is wrong, that this is an entire friendship on the line, and are you really ready to destroy that for the sake of a passing fancy?

you let yourself kiss him back for a few more seconds. you just want to savour it. you just want to run your fingers through his hair a few more times before finally pulling yourself together.

you jerk back a little too hastily. he gasps at the sudden loss of contact, eyes wide, one hand still hovering in the air where he once cradled your face.

you swallow, standing up. you run your hands down the front of your jeans, shaking your head, trying not to make a scene, but all the emotions you felt this morning are coming back, and you’re just confused again. confused, and agitated, and you want nothing more than to ravish him, but at what cost?

he looks up at you. “y/n?”

it’s just your name, but it shatters you. it’s always sounded so good coming from his lips. it’s always sounded so natural.

“i’m sorry,” you choke out. “uh - i just - i don’t think-”

seokjin stands up. “don’t apologise. i’m sorry - i shouldn’t have just assumed-”

“i really like you, seokjin, but-”

“but not like that. don’t worry, i get it. i completely understand.” he rubs the back of your neck, cheeks glowing bright red. “we can just forget anything ever happened.”

your stomach curls; you don’t want to do that. you won’t be able to do that, but you humour him with a curt little nod. he smiles warily, hesitates just a bit before slumping down on the sofa and grabbing his spaghetti again. he doesn’t ask you to sit with him. he doesn’t ask you if you’re alright. he just turns the tv on and carries on eating, not giving you a second glance when you awkwardly walk right past the sofa and get into bed.

----

the days are awkward.

awkward, and borderline unbearable, to put it simply.

you go to work. so does seokjin. you both come home, eat dinner, and then go to bed, but neither of you know what to say or do in between those crucial moments.

seokjin doesn’t even joke around with you like he used to. he just laughs at your own pitiful attempts to lighten the mood before asking you what you want for dinner. once you respond, he uses it as an excuse to ignore you for the rest of the night as he goes off and makes it.

it really is ripping you apart. he was your friend, but he was also your crush.

yes, your crush. like some stupid high school drama. every time you saw him, your heart fluttered and you would go to sleep to thoughts of his arms around you, even if such a scenario once seemed so out of the equation.

and he likes you back. you know that. he kissed you, for crying out loud! nonetheless, there’s that voice in the back of your head reminding you that he is so much better than you, that he has his life together entirely whilst you don’t even have an outline of where you want yours to go.

two people so different in nature would never last long together, and that would leave you with not a trace of seokjin in your life. you didn’t want that.

but it’s kind of what you’ve been given anyway.

nowadays, you don’t even say goodbye to him when you leave for work, even if he’s awake. you just tug on your uniform and start walking, locking the door behind you because he has his own set of keys and he can unlock it whenever he wants.

you’re miserable at work, too, which doesn’t make you a blast to be around, a fact that malachi points out on a daily basis. every time he sees you, he rolls his eyes and tells you to cheer up, but you’ve gotten to the point where you just don’t care any more - you’re gonna bring the mood down, and that’s all there is to it. you’re not going to try and fix it until you’ve fixed yourself.

which is taking an awfully long time when you’re constantly surrounded by the problem.

it’s been a week and a half now. you walk home, sluggish and anxious, but stupidly excited to see seokjin nonetheless. that’s how this always goes. that’s why it’s so fucking confusing.

you unlock the door, step inside, and immediately your heart drops into your stomach.

seokjin looks up from his suitcase and gives you the weariest smile you have ever seen him wear. it’s crooked, the dimples not even appearing. it’s fake.

you pause in the doorway, fingers tightening on the door knob. “what are you doing?”

he looks back down at the pile of clothes - his clothes - he has stacked upon the bed. he bites his lower lip, takes a moment to respond, and your heart is going to burst.

“seokjin...” you step into the room, wincing at the door closing behind you. “what are you doing? why have you got all your stuff out?”

“i’ll keep paying the room. it’s the least i can do.”

you drop your bag to the floor. “fuck off. no way. you’re joking.”

“y/n-”

you stumble back as he stumbles forward. your back hits against the door, and he pauses like he’s just realised he’s scaring a timid animal.

“fuck off.” you shake your head, swiping your hand beneath your eyes; there are tears. already. great. “are you serious? you couldn’t have told me?”

seokjin rubs the back of his neck. “things haven’t been right since-”

“i know that! i know they haven’t, but god, what fucking age are you?” you’re yelling now, unsure where all this anger has come from. “we’re grown adults, seokjin! so what you kissed me? that doesn’t mean we can’t sit down and talk about you literally moving out!”

“this was never a permanent place for me anyway, and you knew that!” he exclaims. veins protrude from his neck. he looks so attractive, it’s almost dizzying. “it’s a fucking B&B, y/n!”

“that’s so far from the point,” you growl. “the point is, you’re moving out, leaving me on my own, and you didn’t even bother to tell me!”

“what would it have done?”

“it would have stopped us from having this argument!”

seokjin scoffs. “you having a bit of sense would have stopped us from having this fucking argument!”

you shake your head, raising a trembling hand. “nah, you know what, fuck you. all you are is a selfish little twat who only thinks about himself. so leave. go off somewhere, cook your fancy fucking meals, and don’t bother paying another penny towards this room because i’ve got it handled. i’m not that little bitch sobbing on the subway any more.”

“no. instead you’re that little bitch yelling at me for no reason-”

“are you serious?”

“you know what, i didn’t want to leave here angry. i’ve had some fantastic times in this room, but you just make it so difficult. you drive me insane sometimes!”

you laugh bitterly, head thrown back and eyes wild. “do i? do i really, seokjin? so why the hell did you kiss me?”

and something inside him snaps. you can see it in the flames that rise in his expression, in the way his knuckles immediately glow white with the grip he now has on forearm.

“because i’ve never met anyone who can do that to me, ever, and it was the hottest fucking thing in the world.”

not exactly romantic, but you freeze nonetheless.

seokjin tilts his head. “is that what you wanted to hear? do you want me to go into detail about how sleeping beside you without touching you was the hardest fucking thing for me? do you want me to go into detail about how i wanted to rip malachi’s head off when he made you laugh that one time at the bakery? do you want me to go into detail about how leaving is the only thing that is going to keep me sane, because if i’m around you for another minute with you hating me, i’m going to die.”

you blink. you blink, and blink, and you stare at him, waiting for the punchline. all he does is pant, shoulders rising and falling, cheeks flushed red. he can’t even look at you. instead, he turns on his heel and marches back to his suitcase, grabbing another pile of clothes and stuffing it haphazardly on top of the others.

“there,” he grumbles. “just rip the fucking confession out of me, will you? god, calling me selfish. if you want me to stay here when i’m being driven mental, that makes you selfish. i offered to keep paying for the house-”

“seokjin.”

“i wouldn’t just leave you with nothing. i’m not a dick. but if you really think that, then-”

shit.

you rush forward before he can sink further into that theory.

you grab his arms, pulling him round to face you, and with one hand clipped to the back of his head, you drag him down and kiss him.

it’s not practised. you certainly didn’t come home tonight thinking you would be kissing seokjin by the end of it, but you make the most of your spontaneity.

he stumbles a little bit, clearly taken off guard, but he catches himself soon enough and grabs your waist, pulling you closer. your hips clash against his. your hands ruffle his hair. his tongue bashes against yours because this kiss is more than just a declaration of. . . of whatever it is you’re feeling. this kiss is sloppy, and ravenous, and frustration all pulled into one, and it shows. it really, really shows as seokjin spins and pushes you back onto the bed, just managing to dodge his neat piles of clothes.

you shove one off the bed and drag him on top of you.

he groans, kissing your neck. “it took me an hour to fold those.”

“they’re gonna get messy anyway.”

his eyes sparkle. “oh?”

you pull him back down, determined to lose yourself in the feel of him against you, the feel of his surprisingly strong arms circling your waist. you forget everything. you let yourself forget everything, instead savouring this moment in all it’s entirety. it’s easily done when seokjin sprinkles fire across your neck, your stomach, your thighs. it’s easily done when he lets you do the same thing, touching him in places you once thought you would never touch.

you wonder, as his lips find your own, how you ever thought this would be anything less than perfect.

----

you wake up the next morning, knowing you don’t have to go to work, feeling more refreshed than you have in weeks.

you stretch, fingers snatching at the covers in search of seokjin. when they reach no conclusion, you peek open one eye and glance across the room, not surprised to see him standing in front of the mirror, fingers trailing through the hair your own fingers had attacked the previous night.

you slump back against the pillows. “can you not call in sick?”

his eyes snap up. he grins, those dimples popping just beneath the corners of his mouth. “afraid not. i didn’t know you were awake.”

“i wasn’t until approximately two seconds ago.”

he turns and walks towards the bed. kneeling on his side - and it has unconsciously become his side - he bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead; you wrinkle your nose, very aware of the sweat you didn’t wash off yourself last night, very aware of the fact you haven’t brushed your teeth or your hair, or made any effort at all.

nonetheless, seokjin grins at you. “who would have thought you would look so beautiful after we fucked.”

you gasp, shoving him away.

he chuckles, going back to fixing his hair in the mirror.

but now that he brings it up, memories of the previous night rise to the surface; you remember most of it very well, because it was the best you’ve felt in a very, very long time. it was pleasure and relief and happiness all rolled into one, and you never wanted it to end.

but then there was the moments before that, when you had both spoken words neither of you meant.

at least, you didn’t mean what you said.

seokjin must notice your sudden demeanour shift, as he glances over and says, “it’s water under the bridge.”

you sit up, tugging the quilt around your bare chest. “we should talk about it.”

“and say what?”

“and apologise.”

he turns. “i’m sorry. you know i am. i didn’t mean a single thing i said.”

“either did i.”

“good.” he turns back to the mirror. “that’s that sorted then. we can go back to being madly infatuated with each other.”

you purse your lips; maybe he is a little bit upset. in all honesty, you wouldn’t be surprised; you said some pretty hurtful things in the moment, things you will regret for the rest of your life. even though seokjin knows - he must know - that you didn’t mean any of it, that doesn’t mean it won’t plague his mind for the next little while.

you rise from the bed, forgetting the quilt - it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, of course. he watches your movements through the mirror, his lower lip slowly - sexily - disappearing behind his teeth.

you wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your bare chest into his back. you listen to his breaths, slow and trained, like he’s trying to keep himself calm. part of you wants him to just lose control, to just spin around and take you into his arms, to forget about work and everything else.

but he’s seokjin. he’s got his life together. he won’t do that.

you press a kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “i really am sorry. you’re the most amazing man i’ve ever met. the most selfless, amazing man in the world.”

he closes his eyes, tilting his head back. “t-thank you.”

“and i can’t wait for you to finish work so i can show you just how much i appreciate you.”

he groans, low in his throat. “i have to go to work.”

you nuzzle your head between his shoulder blades. “i never said you didn’t.”

he pulls away, spins around and kisses you. deeply, feverishly, like he’s never going to return and this is the last time he will ever get to hold you like this. you melt against him, giggling against his mouth as his hands cup your face and he pants against you.

finally, he pulls away and shakes his head. his eyes are wide, blown out when he points at you and says, “we’re not finished yet, understand? i’ll be back in, like, eight hours.”

you lay back on the bed, all naked flesh on show. “and i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

47 notes · View notes

farouchelyoptimistic · 4 years ago

Text

MoonMoon: Tadpole

Gang Tae releases a soft grunt as he stretches his arms, reaching over the other side of the bed. When he feels it empty, he opens his eyes. Brows furrowing as he scans the room. He slides his legs off the bed, standing up as a yawn escapes his mouth. Scratching the back of his nape, he opens the curtains, the morning sunlight seeping through the massive floor to ceiling windows of their room in their luxurious Seoul penthouse.

Moon Young had insisted on moving to the city when he started attending university. It took him a while to finally convince her to get comfortable with the idea of him going back to school. Of course, she was totally against it, reminding him about the ants that would so desperately follow him around. But after days of lengthy conversations and pleading, he had finally managed to get her to agree. She was slowly learning to understand other people's emotions, and if there's one person out there whose emotions she greatly understood, it was Gang Tae's.

She knew no matter how much she protested, he was still going to do it. She was aware it was a dream he so wanted to achieve, and fully knowing how many dreams he had given up upon during the entirety of his life, it was the least she could do for him. So after a few days of sulking and trying to convince him otherwise, she finally says yes.

But Moon Young being Moon Young, if her boyfriend was going to go back to school, he had to go to the best university, because that's what he deserved. Moving back to Seoul was a huge decision, but they both knew it benefited everyone. He was going to a great university there, she had started to write more books ever since Finding the Real Face became a huge hit, and they were closer to Sang Tae who was working under Mr. Lee's company.

They had wanted to live with him in their penthouse, but he enjoyed so much of his independence that he no longer wanted to share a room with his little brother and have bicker-filled conversations with his younger sister over breakfast. He now lives in a posh hotel room, just around the corner from Mr. Lee's company.

On weekends, they would take long drives back to Songjin City, sometimes with Sang Tae if he wasn't too busy, to visit the family they left behind. Sundeuk, now their official fake real mom, would whip up heaps of food for her fake real children. She loved how much her house filled with warmth and happiness whenever everyone was visiting. Especially when Sang Tae tagged along with Sang In because it always made Ju Ri happy.

"Ko Moon Young?" He calls out. Oddly so, she was no longer in bed. It slightly bothered him because she never wakes up before him. She enjoyed her sleep, cherished it to core. He was lucky all his classes in the past four years weren't scheduled too early to have him leaving before she woke up. It would have been disastrous of epic proportions.

"Moon Young-ah?" He was about to go out when he hears shuffling in the bathroom followed by a bountiful wave of cursing.

Cautiously opening the bathroom door, he basically dashes to her side when he sees her sprawled on the bathroom floor, wretching over the toilet bowl. Her black nightgown was scattered around her, her long hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Ko Moon Young! Kinchana?" He stands behind her, gathering her hair in his hand as he rubbed circles around her back.

"Aish. I told you those dumplings we had last night seemed a little weird." She crouches over and empties her already empty stomach again. When she finishes, she slams her hand on the floor, another wave of cursing escaping her mouth si early in the morning.

"Go away. I don't want you to see my vomit. Nobody looks pretty after wretching for an hour." She tries to push him away but he doesn't move an inch. He only chuckles, reaching over the sink to drench a small towel with some water.

"Ani. You're always beautiful." He smiles, wiping the side of her lips. She tries to glare at him, but she couldn't hide the coy smile that slowly surfaced on her lips. She lets out a small breath, leaning back against his chest, making fall back to sit on the floor with her.

He lets out a small smile, encasing her with his arms. He marvels at her small face as she closes her eyes, her skin smooth and bouncy. Tilting his head, he smiles wider at the sight of the elegance if her beauty, enticing, so caotivating. For someone who just wretched for an hour, she really did look beautiful still. He often thought to himself how he managed to resist her charms for so long when now he could barely stop himself from looking at her.

"You're staring at me like a love stuck fool again." She opens her eyes and smiles at him. He chuckles, bringing his hand over to caress her head. Living with her in this penthouse for the last four years really paved the way for the both of them to truly get to know each other. It was safe to say they were masters of each other now.

There was barely much to know more about Moon Young since she was basically a very open book. Mostly, Gang Tae just learned new ways to sate her, calm her down on occasional days she feels like setting the world on fire. Despite her wondrous character development, she was still Moon Young, and that comes along with all the temper and impulsivity and all the jealousy that comes with him having female classmates.

His personal favorite was to wrap his arms around her from behind. Initially she'd try to pry her way out, but immediately calms down once he presses a kiss on her neck. It works like magic. Not only does it calm her down in a second, it also puts both of them in a very good mood.

Moon Young on the other hand learned quite a handful with Gang Tae living under the same roof with her, especially since sleeping in the same room together. All those years of repressing himself, he was finally showing his true colors. She especially loved it when he got a little clingy on some days, demanding for some attention whenever she got too focused in writing her book. She loved clingy Gang Tae as much as she loved the sly fox version of him.

"Aish. My damn head freaking hurts." She grumbles as Gang Tae slowly helps her up. He only sighs, a small smile at the amount of cursing she was able to fit in one sentence this early in the morning.

"Maybe we should just stay home today, huh? Hyung can go with Mr. Lee. You look a little pale, I'm sure they would understand if we can't go today." He suggests, placing a hand on the small of her back as they walk out of the bathroom.

"Ani. We're going to invite them to your graduation, of course we have to go there. You're acting like you don't know who I am, indigestion and a small headache is not going to stop me. Plus, I want to eat real fake omma's food. I'm sick of your under seasoned side dishes."

He laughs, nodding his head. He caresses the top of her head again.

"Kure. Go have a warm shower then. It'll help with your headache." He opens the bathroom door again, ushering her inside. Backing away, she grabs hold of his shirt, stopping him.

"You're not joining me?" She gives him an all too innocent look, tugging in his shirt. He gives her a serious look, taking hold of her hand as he leans in to press a kiss on her forehead. She takes her hand off of him.

"I'm going to make breakfast." He whispers, gently pushing her in, closing the door with a ridiculous coy smile. He shakes his head, he almost wanted to consider.

They picked up Sang Tae with Mr. Lee and Seungjae following right behind them. It had been the usual setup every weekend drive back home. Sang Tae was routinely excited with the long drive, he always is. He looked forward to playing with his bestie, both of them giving Gang Tae a mild headache at some point in the trip. But this time, Sang Tae was a tad bit disappointed, bored even, because his bestie was mostly asleep the entire trip. Gang Tae had instructed him not to wake her up since she wasn't feeling well. He deliberately wanted to bond, but being a big brother meant to let his sick sister rest.

"How was the trip?" Sundeuk welcomes her favorite guests, wrapping Sang Tae in a warm hug while Mr. Lee directly glides towards Ju Ri. Jae Su immediately inches closer to Seungjae, sharing knowing glances with their budding romance.

The house was immediately filled with warm laughter and excited greetings. It felt like it brightened up in just a matter of seconds.

"It-it, it was was good. B-but, boring. It was boring. It was boring because my bestie was asleep the entire trip. Sh-she never falls asleep, she always plays with me. But this time she was sleeping. Gang Tae said she was a little sick, so I let her sleep." Their fake real mom nods her head, proud at Sang Tae's newfound considerations. She nods her head, smiling at she patted his shoulders.

"That's right. Good job." She muses.

"Yes, yes. I did a good job. She woke up in the middle of the trip because she had to vomit, so we had to stop at the side of the road. It would have smelled bad if she vomited in the car. It would have also cost money, because her car, her car is expensive. It's expensive." Sang Tae continues to ramble, making Moon Young roll her eyes. Why on earth is he telling everyone of her demise, she thought.

"Oh? Let me see her." She cranes her neck, eyes growing wide at the sight Ko Moon Young's pale, yet still beautiful face. "Aigoo! You look pale, Moon Young-ah." She holds her arms, squeezing them comfortably. "Kinchana?"

She nods her head, smiling warmly at the closest thing she now has for a mother. Her heart flutters when the fairly old woman's hand reaches for her face.

"You're probably hungry. Come on, come on, let's eat. Hurry everyone." She links her arm around Moon Young's, leading her to the table where all the food was served.

"Wait! Before anything else, "She turns back around, eyeing Gang Tae who was following close. "I believe congratulations are in order! Congratulations on the graduation, Gang Tae-ah!"

Gang Tae gets enveloped by a number of warm arms, hugging and squeezing him. Accolades filled the room, making him smile. He thanks each one of them, a huge smile on his face. His eyes curve into thin lines as he catches Moon Young standing by the corner, watching him with a huge smile on her face. She was proud of him, proud beyond measure.

"Now let's eat!" The homeowner says, dragging everyone towards the table. Gang Tae moves over to Moon Young, wrapping his arm around her waist. He sits her down on her usual spot in the table, taking the seat beside her. Automatically, he gets her a bowl of overflowing rice and a bountiful amount of side dishes.

"Here you go." He doesn't wait for her to curse at the fact she still can't use the chopsticks with eggs and gets a few for her, placing them on her bowl.

Scooping a spoonful, she stops midway when she takes a whiff of the smell. For some reason, it didn't smell the same way. It smelled horrible, making her insides feel stuffy.

"Aish. Why the hell do these smell weird?" She complains, eyeing them in a disgusted way. Gang Tae turns to her, sniffing the dish.

"Ani. They smell the same as usual, Moon Young. Just go ahead and eat them." He rubs her shoulder.

She shrugs, face still distorted. She reluctantly takes the spoon back and eats. As soon as flavor spread all over her mouth, her stomach starts churning. The disgusting smell only amplified, and she felt like she was getting a taste of it. Just like this morning, she legitimately felt the same way her stomach started to push its contents upward.

Slamming the cutlery on the table, she makes everyone stop, turning their heads toward her. She tries to stabilize her breathing, trying to calm her stomach, but the contents of her stomach, of what's left of it, started to rise until she could basically taste it on her throat.

She abruptly pushes back her chair, standing up and running to the sink nearby. As soon as she crouched down, she starts to hurl.

It took everyone a second, before they all stood up, running towards her. Sundeuk and Gang Tae were quick to her side, both rubbing her back as Gang Tae once again gathers her hair in his hnads.

"Kinchana?" Gang Tae asks her as she calms down, taking a table napkin from Mr. Lee who was quick to stay by them. He wipes her lips, putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.

She nods, but it doesn't take long before she feels her world spin. She stumbles on her feet, her knees trembling. Luckily, Gang Tae and Mr. Lee was quick to grab her, maintaining her balance. They quickly bring her to the living room, sitting her down on the couch.

"Omo, Moon Young-ah. What is happening to you? Omo, you can't be sick. You have a book to finish." Mr. Lee worriedly rambles as he wipes her forehead. Gang Tae was sitting beside her, massaging her arms while Ju Ri was quick to bring over a glass of water.

"Aish. I'm fine. It's probably just a flu, I've had it for more than a week." She waves her hand, annoyed at the fussy attention they hand on her. Like the stubborn that she is, she tries to stand up, but Gang Tae only pushes her back down, giving her a look. She lets out a breath, leaning back.

"She’s sick. Is she sick? If you're sick you need to rest. Rest. But she's been resting too much. Should, should we bring her to a hospital?" Sang Tae rambles, panic starting to dawn over him at sight of his sister looking frail. Jae Su was quick to calm him down, telling him she was going to be okay.

"I wonder what's wrong." Sundeuk tries to think, worrying over her state. He crosses her arms over her chest, thinking of any possibilities. When a thought crosses her mind, her eyes grow wide. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she needed to get it out of her chest.

"Aigoo!" She clasps her hands. "Could you be pregnant?" Everyone in the room stills. They stare at her incredulously, mouths agape.

"Frequent vomiting." Jae Su says.

"Dizziness." Seungjae responds.

"Altered senses." Ju Ri concludes.

All the heads in the room slowly turns towards Gang Tae who had a stunned expression on his face. His heart started beat faster, sweat beading over his neck and his ears starting to blush red.

"M-Moon Young-ah, could you be pregnant?" Mr. Lee asks her, suddenly sounding like an overprotective father. He eyes her and Gang Tae back and forth.

"Of course its possible. With the rate he's penetrating me, I'm not going to be surprised." Gang Tae's eyes grow wide.

"Uhm, M-Moon Y--" He doesn't get to finish because she stands up rashly, walking towards the door. He attempts to follow her, but she puts up a hand which he earlier learned meant she needed time with herself. He sighs, sitting back down.

When she was out of the door, everyone returns their shocked gazes to him. He was in mild shock, heart hammering, thoughts going on a frenzy.

He flinches when Sundeuk suddenly hits him with her hands.

"You knocked her up before marrying her?! Gang Tae, I cannot believe you." When she finally calms down, she takes in a breath, hands on hips. He looks at her with nothing but guilty and worried eyes.

"You might be having a baby. Oh, it's going to be a good looking baby!" She pulls him in for a warm comforting hug, rubbing his back. She knew he felt nervous, but she could see the hidden happiness in his eyes despite the worry and guilt. She knew in her heart, if someone was ready to become a father, it was him.

Everyone else in the room, after finally getting to wrap their head around the idea, slowly turned their stunned looks into smiles. It was unexpected, but it was good news altogether.

"Well, that's one more thing we need to celebrate." Mr. Lee says, sending everyone in soft cheers. It was good news, but though unspoken, they all slightly worried about Moon Young and how she would react. Especially Gang Tae.

He gave her a few hours on her own. Sundeuk offered them to stay the night at the rooftop room, Jae Su and Mr. Lee offering to take Sang Tae in their room like old times. He sat on the stairs as he allowed her her space, thinking, and trying get himself accustomed to the fact that he might be a father soon. He was nervous, it made his heart thud, but he was also happy. The thought of having a child with the woman he loves made him excited.

This was one of the dreams he had developed as he started his new life with her. He wanted to build a family, a family with her. And now, they were a step closer. There was only one step left to do.

He takes the red velvet box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the bright diamond ring. He'd been keeping it for quite a while now, trying to wait for the perfect moment. He was going to ask her tomorrow, when they were back at the cursed castle. He was going to invite her to the balcony where the moon would shine over them and the fireflies would float around them like magical glitter. When the moment was near perfect, and he poured his heart and soul to her, he would go down on one knee and ask her. And then he could only hope she says yes.

He found her sitting at the edge of the rooftop day bed. The sky was bright despite the dark night, the stars were shining and the moon was huge. He stopped for a second, admiring how ethereal she looked under the glowing celestial beauty.

There was no way he wanted to spend the rest of his life with someone else. If he was going to spend forever with someone, it was going to be with her. Yes, she might be an irrational brat sometimes, but she was his irrational brat. He'd gladly put up with all the complaining and temper if it meant he gets to have her.

He doesn't say a word as he sits beside her, leaving no space between them. He knew she needed some space to wrap her head around what could be happening. But this time, she didn't have to face anything alone, because he'll always be by her side. Sometimes far away, but always near.

"I just hurled what's left of my guts out. I think the pipes might just get busted for real this time." She says, looking straight ahead. He turns to look at her, a small smile in his face. He knew, she was going to be okay. Wrapping an arm over her shoulders, he pulls her close.

"What if it hates me? What if it fears me as I did with my mom?" She turns to her, the fear in her eyes making his heart ache. He doesn't blame her for thinking that. Her childhood was wasn’t exactly the best, and though she was healing, he knows a small part of it still continues to haunt her.

"It won't. Because you're not like your mom. And you know that. You're warm. And you know what it feels to be loved. Most of all, because you know how to love genuinely and wholeheartedly. You know why I know?" She shakes her head, her stare boring into his eyes.

"Because I can feel how much you love me. I can see how much you love Hyung. You don't say it much, but I can see how much you love everyone else in that room today. And I'm sure, you'll love our baby as much. And it's going to love you because it's going to feel how much his mom loves him."

He takes her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb. He smiles at her, assuring her that nothing else but love and happiness is coming their way. When she smiles at him with genuine happiness, he leans in to press a kiss on her lips.

"Saranghae, Moon Young-ah." He says, pulling her closer, squeezing her arm.

"Saranghae, Gang Tae-ah." She wraps an arm over his torso. He smiles, pressing his cheek on the top of her head.

"Now I might have something growing inside of me like a tadpole. Feeding off my body." She mutters, making him laugh. He only pulls her in closer, a ridiculous smile on his face.

"We'll get you checked tomorrow, to be sure. But don't call the baby a tadpole." He chuckles.

"If we really are having a baby, I hope it's a boy that looks like you." He only nods, she always said that. He didn't argue, but a part of him wished they'd have a girl that would like like her. A daughter he'd be able to treat like a princess.

"You're going to have to answer Sang Tae. He's going to be asking about the whys and the hows. I'm pretty sure you done want me to answer." Yet again, he chuckles.

"Don't say a word to him, Moon Young-ah." He says in between his chuckles. He lets out a breath and smiles, looking up at the sky. His dreams were slowly starting to become a reality. He knew in his heart, and with the way the stars glowed, his mom was happy for him.

He couldn't ask for more. He was graduating next week with a job waiting for him at Mr. Lee's company. He is going to marry the love of his life, and possibly a baby on the way. There was no more repressing, no more hiding his feelings. He was happy, and he couldn't hide it.

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