#does anyone remember the days when we had no au index?

[yuesya]

Do you think you could post your zenith of stars AU snippets onto Spacebattles too? I think it would be easier to read them all at once on Spacebattles than Google Docs

There are quite a lot of AU snippets to move onto SB in that case. Would this count as flooding, too? I'm not entirely certain. Part of the reason for just threadmarking the Google Docs link was so I wouldn't need to worry about any of this haha... especially because the AUs themselves are quite disorganized, too, given that many of them originally spawned from Tumblr asks.

That being said, if most people would like for AU snippets to be properly moved over, then I will consider it!

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

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Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

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“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

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Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

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Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

  Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

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The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

NEW TAG LIST:

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[slafkovskys]

All of this start of the season Jack content is making me feel things!!! All I can think about is him and older Norris reader after the ring toss! What does he plan for the date? How does it go? What is everyone in their lives reactions to it? Does she go to Jersey with him? Jess your writing is so immaculate this AU has infiltrated my brain😂🥰

read part one here :)

as she hears his footsteps descending the steps, she thinks about how she wouldn't be doing this for anyone else, especially not on a first date.

her dress and heels were long abandoned in a guest room, instead exchanged for a pair of jack’s sweatpants and a too big t-shirt from her college days she had left at the hughes brothers’ house at some point during her many trips there over the past few weeks. her hair was now pulled away from her face, the fact that she had moved her wash day for the occasion be damned.

“so,” he lets out a big sigh before quite literally falling onto the l-shaped part of the sofa beside her. she’s got her legs tucked underneath her, a wine glass held tight in one hand, and her head resting on another on the back of the couch. the remote is resting on her thigh and all either of them had to do was press play on the third mighty ducks movie (“it’s better than miracle, jack. not even an argument,” and she quickly learned that jack does whatever she wants, so that was an easy debate to have before he retreated to shower) that had been queued on the screen for the past twenty minutes. instead, jack throws an arm lazily over her legs, gives her that stupid grin of his she’s become obsessed with, and nods, “tell me about y/n.”

“you know about y/n,” she states as though it was a fact, which it was. they weren’t strangers to each other in the slightest, having been somewhat background characters in each other’s lives for the last eight years.

“no, i don’t. i know about the y/n whose posts i see on instagram or whatever updates my mom tells me she’s learned from your mom. that doesn’t count,” his index finger traces the outside seam of the pants she was wearing from her calf, to just above her knee, and back, “i want to know about the y/n in front of me.”

“okay then,” she takes a deep breath, swirling her wine around in her glass before taking a sip, “i was born here in michigan, but moved to germany for a little while when my dad was still playing. before you ask me, no, the only german i can remember is my old address and how to tell them i was lost. when we moved back here, i picked up hockey for a couple of years before deciding to leave it to the boys-”

“you played defense, right?” jack interrupts, staring at her with such an interest.

she hums, “why do you think i always win when me and my brothers fight? i had potential, but it really just wasn’t for me.”

“is that so? because i remember a certain tipsy moment a few weeks ago where you said you quit because you didn’t like the colors of the uniform.”

“that may have been a contributing factor, but i was fourteen and very fashion-conscious. you can’t hold that against me,” she rolls her eyes. she catches sight of the wristbands on his arm and she can’t help but to reach down and tug on them as she resumes her story, “anyway, graduated high school, moved to minnesota for college. go gophers-”

“debatable,” he teases.

“got my degree in communications. thought that i met the love of my life in the backyard of a sigma chi frat house, which we both know how that worked out. moved down to florida, got engaged, called off the engagement, and now i’m back living with my parents. i have lived a life, jack hughes,” she sighs as she finishes off her glass. she didn’t miss the way that his face twitched at the mention of derek and how she just barely ghosted over what had happened. due to the movement, his damp hair had fallen over his eyes and she reached out to push it away, “it’s going to take more than one glass of wine and a first date to get into the good stuff.”

“but i already knew all of that,” he huffs, “tell me something that i don’t already know. tell me about something that makes you happy.”

“recently?” she quirks an eyebrow and he hums, “honestly, you.”

and jack’s world comes to a screeching halt. for as long as he had known her, she wasn’t the type to get sentimental, vulnerable, but over the last two months, he felt that he had seen more versions of her than he knew existed. from the first night she was home, to that plane ride to florida to get her things, to watching her toss her engagement ring into the water right outside his house, it wasn’t enough. he wanted, no he needed more of her. he needed to know every single version of her, every single story, every single emotion that she had to offer him.

her eyes find his and he squeezes her knee, a silent ask. he watches as her throat bobs and just as he goes to crane his neck up to meet her, an alarm sounds. that stupid fucking pizza.

after scouring the entire grocery store, they couldn’t find any pre-breaded chicken for chicken parm and neither of them wanted to bother with doing it themselves. so that’s how they found themselves snatching up a premade pizza with a reduced sticker on the front because its sell-by date was that day and even though jack insisted on getting one that was fresher, she only rolled her eyes and insisted it would taste the same. he, of course, let her sit it in the basket along with the thing of cookies she suddenly had a craving for the second she laid eyes on them. the way her face lit up made it worth the extra work he was going to have to put in later.

despite the insistent beeping from the stove timer, neither of them dared to make a move to go and pull the pizza from the oven. she blinks, “we should probably go and check on it…”

“i think that it can wait for a couple of minutes,” and yeah, it definitely could, because jack was leaning in and so was she. the second their lips meet it’s like nothing either of them had felt before. the build-up, the tension between the two of them over the summer was worth it as they melted into the kiss.

jack’s hand grips onto her thigh while her hand cradles his cheek. it was easy to get lost in each other, lips moving against one another’s like they’d been doing this forever. only when the need for air becomes too great do they pull away panting, still holding onto each other like either would disappear at any given second.

“we really should go check on the pizza,” she insists, swearing she can smell the cheese starting to burn.

he frowns, “can we do more of that later?”

“if you hurry back, you don’t have to wait that long,” she incentivizes and jack is all but scrambling towards the kitchen with the sounds of her laughter following behind him.

yeah, this was definitely something they could get used to.

(they never did hit play on the movie and the pizza didn’t burn, but it didn’t get eaten either. they were too lost in each other to even bother slicing through the crispy dough as it grew colder and colder on the countertop. oh well.)

[heartfullofleeches]

I am not sucrose anon but I am equally cursed and also a barista and I would like a coffee shop AU where reader owns a popular cafe using coffee sweetened with Sucrose fluids a la Sweeney Todd

I'm gonna drain the bitch

[Warnings: (candy) body horror if you squint. Reader commits a health code violation. (Does it count if they're a person made of pure sugar?) Either way, they commit some sort of crime against humanity and minors dni]

You smile at the next customer approaches the counter. "Hi, what can I get for you today?"

"Hello, can I get a cherry surprise frappe?"

You eye the door to the back, a blur of pink ducking behind the glass. "Oh, I'm sorry, but we just ran out of the main ingredient for that. It's one of our most popular drinks. If you can wait a minute, I'll run to the back real quick to grab another bottle."

Excusing yourself from the customer and the growing crowd, you head to the back. Recollections of your life before the sudden popularity boost of your cafe flood your mind as passive conversation buzzes around you.

"This is the best coffee shop I've ever been to."

"I wake up an hour earlier to beat the morning rush, but now it looks like I'll have to get up an extra thirty minutes before."

Such praise was but a fever dream for you until three short months ago. It's understandable for business to take a while to pick off when you're starting from the ground up, but almost a year in and no sign of major progress would damper just about anyone's spirits. All your troubles and woes changed that fate-filled day - when the kind baker from across the street offered you their special ingredients.

"Sucrose? You busy?"

A breathy, shaken trial at laughter comes from one of the counters; legs twitching at the note of concern in your voice. Busy - what a silly question to ask. As a model baker and business owner, Sucrose prided themselves in having fresh stock every morning and enough to last the entire day. Slaving through the night and lacking a need for sleep left their hands free for the more important things to do during the day, such as the task you'd dumped on them since your merge.

"hehe.. r...right here, gumdrop, same as always. Was starting to get a little long without ya.. Need my assistance?" Sucrose props themselves up on the smooth metal surface, melting, sticky thighs glueing them to place. You hand on their bare chest guides them to a full upright position, thumb and index finger rolling over their hardened buds.

"Not really, besides the usual. We ran out right in the middle of a rush so I have to make this quick."

Sucrose swallows, pinkish saliva trailing down their lips as their eyes fog over. "Y-yes, muffin. I'm still a little stimulated from the last few rounds, but anything for you..."

That drink really was only meant for you. Seeing their favorite human in trouble, Sucrose wanted to help out in the best way their sickeningly sweet heart could muster. Human emotion was still a new thing for them. They were bursting with so much love for that cute barista across the street that it came out in ways indescribable with words. Being sweeter than the average individual, they saw no harm in pouring their love into something to make you feel better, so they made their best attempt at iced coffee with the knowledge they picked up watching you. The look you gave them when you came back for more made it impossible to say no.

"It's almost funny really. I thought we had filled up two bottles alone last night, but they were empty before noon." Dropping to your knees, you roll the baker's apron and skirt up to their stomach, erection peaked and sprouting upwards free from the restrain of the tangled frills. The shaft was that same bubblegum pink as most of their body, head teetering on rouge. Teasing your tongue across the leaking tip produces more of that cherry flavoring so many had come love, but relief for the already frazzled baker was cut brief as you remember you had forgotten something. Sucrose picked up on your mistake the second you fell to the floor - producing a bottle with a funnel before you could go far. Their eyes avoid yours as another weak fit of laughter hits them.

"That... is definitely odd, haha. As you can see I've been in here all day so I couldn't possibly have had a hand in-..ah!"

While you'd love to hear their excuses, you have customers to get back to. Glossing your lips up their shaft as they spoke, you cut Sucrose's speech short as you part them slipping the confectioner's cock into the warmth of your mouth. Sweet as the cupcakes they're famous for, the taste of cherry taffy washes your taste buds coating the walls of your mouth sweetness as you pump your tongue in tandem with each bob of your head. Sucrose was completely over the edge with your speed and all the "preparation" they'd done while watching you from the window. Could there be any turn on greater than seeing your beloved hard at work, and hands deep in product of your own making.

"Oh.. Sweetheart, give a fiend a warning next time...aha.."

Sucrose shoves their apron so far down their throat they would've choked if they had the needs. In the same vein they could feel their cock hitting the back of yours, all willpower bled into keeping their hands on the counter and their moans to a minimum. The fans would cut out most of the sound, but they didn't want to risk anything that could jeopardize their time with you. Sucrose's lust would be the end of your already limited time together as their hands reach down to tangle in your hair. You brace yourself for what's to come by grabbing onto their leg and angling your head in a better position for the brute pace they'd set.

"Y/n... love you.." Throwing their free leg over your shoulder and around your neck, Sucrose fucks your throat as sweet nothing ramble on from their empty head. The whole reason they had gotten caught was due to a similar lapse of control. They wanted to surprise you with another bottle of their syrup and wanted it to be as fresh as possible, commiting their misdeeds right in the bliss of your bedroom. When you found them out, you weren't mad, nor as disgusted as they'd imagined. Why would you be? You're their wonderful little gumdrop who's taught them so much about the human realm. So sweet and addictive, just like the sugary concoction brewing in their loins. You were their everything. Perfection.

"Gumdrop, you're always so good to me... I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you, but I'll give you everything."

Sap-like fluid creating a slug trail down your throat, you tap Sucrose's leg to let them know to let go before it's too late. They pay no heed to your warning as their hips edge off the counter and your nose rides against their crotch; melting digits keeping you in place as they hold you under the force of their high.

"Take it... It's all yours. You're the only one who should be able to have this, but I let you share because I love you so much.. Yours.."

Sucrose rambles on as your palate is overtake by their taste. It's like a mixture of syrup and coffee creamer. That heavy, honey consistency with a creamy cherry filled softness. The type of flavor that was good in small quantities or paired with something instead of being pumped straight into your stomach like what was happening to you. Introducing your teeth to their flesh finally got them to loosen their grip. The pain only prolonged their orgasm, but Sucrose knew by now what that meant. They take the bottle from you and attach it to themselves as you head for the sink. The heat of your mouth melted their skin more to the point you were good on sugar for the rest of the week...or until they were unable to perform on their own again.

"All done!"

Sucrose proudly displays the syrup bottle on the counter beside you. A full eight ounce jar filled to the brim. They kiss you as you come up from rinsing out your mouth, reach back to squeeze your ass as their tongue catches the spit still clinging to the corner of your mouth.

"Make sure to watch your supplies more closely, Gumdrop. See you soon."

Sucrose wonders back to their side of the kitchen to figure out how to pour out the syrup again without you noticed as you head back out to the front - plucking taffy from your hair. After finishing the customer's order and handing them their change, they lean over the counter to whisper something.

"Um, hey, not to be rude, but you have something pink on your.. back pocket. It kinda looks like a handprint."

[wolfvmin]

blipped: family line (3)

title: family line pairing: brother’s best friend!yoongi x female reader genre: major angst !!, fluff, brother’s best friend au, unrequited love, set in the marvel cinematic universe (mcu), slow burn?, implied age gap, heavy themes,brother!namjoon, bestfriend!taehyung warnings: mentions of character death disclaimer: you can read this without knowing anything marvel at all. word count: 2.3k

At the age of 21, you confessed your feelings to your brother’s best friend, Yoongi, which he rejected. One day later, Thanos snapped, turning fifty percent of the world population to dust, leaving the other half lost, confused, and mourning–including you. Five years later, Bruce Banner snapped everyone back to life, including Yoongi, who doesn’t really know you anymore.

a/n: this is so short i'm sorry lol. i promise the next chapter would be longer and less angsty (maybe even steamy). index part 2 > part 4

Before you knew it, Yoongi and Namjoon acted as they had adjusted to the changes that were thrust into their lives. Well, they had to, anyway. 

It was hard getting a job with half of the population being back; job openings were closing left and right. Thankfully, Joon was re-offered his position in the company he worked at because of his friendly relationship with his boss pre-blip. Yoongi, on the other hand, managed to land a job with a salary not on the same level as the one he had before. But who was he to complain? Everyone was scrambling to adjust to the amount of population once again. So many were struggling to the point that some people were saying that the Avengers were wrong to have brought back the people who blipped, that they have just made things just as hard as five years ago. 

Was it worth it to reopen the wound of 5 years?

Yoongi reads the online post on the laptop on your desk. Surely, he thought, it wasn’t an easy task to accept that people who one mourned for 5 years suddenly came back into their life. Hell, it’s trauma that one does not know if it will heal. His curiosity kills him… but he can’t get himself to ask what the hell you’ve been through when they were gone. He was certain that Namjoon feels the same way. 

They’ve been trying to act carefully around you as if they were never gone. Lately, it felt like a never-ending roleplay–like there was a time bomb in the room that was just waiting to explode.

Yoongi traced his fingers over the box in his hand. It’s small faux leathered and not bigger than his hand. The very same box that you owned for five years. To you, this was old news. But to him, he had just bought it a few months ago. 

He found it in your desk drawer. He knows it’s bad to snoop around but he couldn’t help it when he saw it hidden beneath your stationery things. It was the only thing that looked from the past. Nothing in this apartment except for the picture frame that stood in your living room was a reminder of the time you used to have. But as he looked at the necklace inside the box, he remembers the way you looked, the way you moved, the way you smiled, and the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him.

It was so different now. 

It’s as if you were cautious of every step you take. You don’t laugh as much as you used to. The only time he hears you sound actually happy is when you speak with your coworkers over the phone. 

He tries to get back to the way it was. Before he got a job, he offered to give you rides to your work which you refused because your neighbor and coworker, Jeon Jungkook, gives you rides to work and back home. 

Jeon Jungkook, Yoongi learned, has been friends with you for two years now. What he also learned, is that the fucker was with you almost 24/7 of every day of every week. He doesn’t know why but the kid itches something in him. 

Not that he would let anyone know that. 

Looking back at the necklace, he wonders if you wore it or just kept it inside the box for all the years that went by. He hopes that you cherished it somehow. 

What happened to you while we were gone, Y/N?

He sighs and gently puts back the jewelry box where he found it, careful not to make it look like it was moved. 

He looks at the time on his wristwatch. You should be home soon. He should get ready. 

An hour later, you arrived back home. 

You had a bouquet of chrysanthemum flowers in your hand when you entered the apartment. Yoongi was on the couch sitting beside his friend. He could feel the worries and nerves of his friend from where he sat and he understands why. 

A few days ago, you decided to tell them that you would be taking them to see your mom. Namjoon didn’t like the idea at first. But you convinced him anyway, promising your brother that it won’t be a mess like before. Namjoon finally agreed at the end of the dinner when you wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Time has changed probably everything except for him and Namjoon.

“You guys ready?” You ask them and take your keys from where it usually is. Yoongi and Namjoon take a glance at each other and nod at you.

They were still confused as to why you wanted them to see her but they thought it wouldn’t be bad to let her see them considering it’s been five years. The confusion on his and Namjoon’s faces were hard to hide when instead of taking a turn to the familiar neighborhood, you headed in a different direction. 

No questions were asked nor words were said when you drove into the memorial park. Suddenly, the bouquet of flowers you had in your car made sense. 

Yoongi fixes the collar of his recently ironed buttoned-up white shirt when he steps out of your car. 

The three of you walk quietly as you led the way, sun dress flowing due to the wind. Namjoon walks behind you while Yoongi trails behind the two of you. He worries for his best friend who he now watches walking aimlessly. 

You stopped in front of a grave. Your mother’s name is written on the stone. 

You bend your knees to drop the flowers by the grave and you look at both of them. 

“She died not long after the blip.” You finally talk and look over at Namjoon who was still lost for words. “Her vices finally caught up with her. She was bedridden for months and then one night, she had a heart attack.” 

Namjoon takes in your words quietly in front of the grave as if he couldn’t believe the name written there.

“I’ll give you a moment.” You say to Namjoon who was just staring darkly at the grave below him. 

You give Yoongi a look which he understands in a second. He gives Namjoon a pat on his shoulder before following you to the side. 

The two of you walked until you were meters away from Namjoon. Yoongi watches as his best friend is now kneeling by the grave, eyes still lifeless. 

Grief. It’s such a funny thing. 

His heart breaks for whatever his best friend is feeling. He wishes better for him and you. He wishes this fucked up thing hadn’t happened. He wishes that the three of you lived in a different universe where there were no superheroes, no aliens attempting to take their planet, or no cities destroyed left and right just because there was some fucker who wanted revenge on some trauma. 

Because while all of that was happening, their problems seem so mundane and small.

But it’s there. 

And it hurts. 

It hurts that Namjoon had to miss his mother’s death. It hurts that just a month ago, he was watching the same person screaming at you and Namjoon.

Even if Namjoon feels regret or maybe even glad she’s gone, he didn’t deserve it. Not like this. If it were he who was being asked what he was feeling, he would say he was sad. Not because he grieves your mother’s death but because of you. You were left alone. To be frank, he’s a bit upset at your mother even if she’s not at fault. Just when you needed her, she disappears again and escapes her responsibilities. 

He looks over at you, seeing no tears fall from your eyes. He could see you were sad but unlike the Y/N he knew before, you stood strong on your ground. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You speak without looking at Yoongi.

“Like what?” He asks, crossing his arms to warm himself from the cold wind. 

You finally look over, giving him a small smile. “Like you pity me.” You pause. “I’m glad she’s dead. That way she can’t fuck us over anymore.”

Yoongi takes in how you look. The way your eyes look weak but dark. The way you weakly smile despite how you appear to look fine. He still sees the twenty-one-year-old he cherishes in you. She’s in there somewhere. He would just have to accept that you’ve changed. 

You were alone all this time. You had no brother and no mother to be with you. Whatever happened, Yoongi thanks the heavens that you’re still here, standing in front of him and looking so beautiful. You were strong like he always believed you are. 

Yoongi doesn’t answer this time and looks back at his best friend and then at the grave he was staring at.  

Maybe it’s time to visit his parents.

Yoongi loves his parents. They were good people. But his relationship with them is not the best. He loved them and they loved him but he often feels distant from them. When he comes home, he would often just hear his mother’s nagging voice and his father wasn’t someone who showed his emotions. He just… never felt liked by them. 

For the past few months, he has only communicated with them by phone, telling them he should pick himself up first before leaving Seoul. It was an excuse to not visit them. He knows that he’s selfish by doing this. They have been waiting for years for him. 

But he was scared. 

If you, the person he has been spending years with, have changed so much, what would the blip make his parents be? He couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t face it. Were they sad? Were they relieved? What struggles did they face during the economic collapse during the blip? Did his parents still love each other? Did they mourn him? 

As he stood there, a little bit sweating because of the nerves, the front door opens. 

The sight in front of him makes him freeze. 

He could barely recognize his own father. And it wasn’t because of his mostly grey hair or the added wrinkles on his face. It was the tears that were falling down his face and how he was basically tripping on his feet to get to him. 

His father’s arm wraps around his figure, squeezing him so tight it felt like he would crush his lungs. He pats his back anyway, eyes drifting to his mother who’s now crying with clasped hands on her face. 

“You’re home, son.” His voice was just as he remembered. It was not as authoritative as it was. It’s a little bit gentle now–a little bit tired. 

“Hey, dad.” He pats his father’s curved back. Over the phone, his mother told him how his father was still working his office job. 

When he lets go, it was his mother’s turn to tackle him in a hug and smother him in kisses. 

“Honey, you said you wouldn’t cry.” His father teases his mom who then glared at her husband. 

As his mother lets go, he was immediately smacked on the arm, to which his father yelped at. Then, she shifted to Yoongi, who also received a smack. 

“And you, why would you not go home?! I almost went to Seoul myself if only I haven’t been stopped by your father!” 

And Yoongi grins, giving them a heartily laugh while rubbing his arm. 

In his mind, he hasn’t been away for years but in his heart, he did miss them. 

After the emotional reunion, Yoongi finds himself sitting at the dining table with a feast of his favorite meals in front of him. 

“So,” Yoongi clears his throat. “How have you been?” Yoongi asks his parents as he digs into the food. 

His mother stares at his father beside her and places her hand on top of his. “It was hard at first. We were really down to a spiral but we managed.” 

“You don’t have to worry about us, son.” Yoongi’s father assured him. 

Throughout the meal, his parents updated him on what happened in the 5 years he was gone. They updated him on stories of his relatives and whatnot. Surprisingly, Yoongi had a good time. He doesn’t think he had this much of a good time with his parents even before the blip happened. He found himself laughing at their stories and jokes, which rarely happened before. 

They let him take some of his old things, shocked that they haven’t thrown them out yet. The next morning, he loads them in your car that you had let him borrow with the help of his father. 

“You’re staying at Y/N’s, right?” His father asks as Yoongi puts down the box he was carrying in the trunk beside the one his father was previously holding. 

“Yeah.” He answers, closing the trunk with a thud. “It’s just temporary though. I’ll move out when I find an apartment.” 

Yoongi mentioned you a few times back then and he was sure that his parents only knew you as Namjoon’s brother. Sure, they knew your name but there was something with the way your name rolled off his father’s tongue that seemed too comfortable and too familiar. 

“Hm.” His father pats the closed trunk. “Well, you have a safe drive back.”

“Of course, dad. You guys take care of yourselves, yeah?” 

“Yoongi! Take these with you.” His mother was running out of the door, holding a large insulated lunch bag and handing it to him. 

“Side dishes?” Yoongi assumed. “You didn’t have to, mom.” 

His mother slaps his arm repeatedly as if he offended her. “Shush. They’re not for you. They’re for Y/N. Tell her to eat a lot and to take care, okay? And Namjoon too.” 

And Namjoon “too”? When did you become the first Kim to come to their minds?

Ah. It must be because he was practically living off of you right now. 

“Oh. I will. Yeah.” Yoongi nods, “Thanks.” 

His mom doesn’t hide her excitement. “Okay, drive safe!”

With a few questions unanswered in his mind, he drives his way back to you.

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. thank you. my works are not cross-posted anywhere else but this blog. thank you.

𓆩♡𓆪 want to be tagged to all my works or a specific one? 𓆩♡𓆪  : ̗̀➛ fill up this form here: taglist request form or send me an azk!

[sunnyville36]

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader

Series themes: mafia au, arranged marriage, strangers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, featuring members of multiple groups including Stray Kids, BTS, Ateez, Itzy, BTOB

Series warnings: violence, misogyny, heavy swearing, illegal activity, major character injuries, eventual explicit content

Word count: 1k

*** Part 1 ***

“Mrs. Bang, you cannot go in there; the meeting is -”

“Move. Before I make you,” comes the uncharacteristically sweet voice of Yeji from your left, her tone utterly saccharine in an unconvincing attempt to hide the power and malice running underneath. You feel Hyunjin’s breath on the opposite side of your neck, inching himself closer to your side and his hand closer to the weapon at his belt.

Wanting to avoid a bloodbath at the hands of your bodyguards, you motion to the two of them to back off, walking up to the low-level goon who had the misfortune of manning the entrance to the council meeting going on behind the door.

“I believe Mr. Yang mentioned I would be attending.”

“He did, ma’am, but he does not have the authority to -”

“He may not, but, as you will hear in a few moments, I do. So please step aside sir, or Ms. Hwang will be happy to remove you.”

A nervous glance at the woman behind you is all it takes to have the man scrambling to open the door for you, holding up his index finger to his mouth as a warning to enter quietly. You’ll have to remember to remind Chan he’s one of the ones who cooperated when you see him again.

Behind the door is exactly the scene you expected to see - a conference table lined end to end with members of Chan’s council, with Mr. Park, his lead advisor, a good old boy from back when Chan’s father was alive, seated at the head. All eyes turn to you as you enter the room, heated voices dying down into conspiratorial whispers.

“What’s the wife doing here?”

“What are we going to tell her?”

“You think one of us will get to have her now that he’s dead?”

You make eye contact with Jeongin across the room where he stands in a darkened corner behind Mr. Park. The latter, looking almost too stunned to speak after your sudden appearance, gathers himself and jostles out of his seat as you walk towards him.  “Mrs. Bang, you really shouldn’t be coming down here and worrying yourself -”

You brush past his bow and pull the seat out for yourself, schooling your mouth into a straight line so you don’t burst out laughing at the man’s shocked expression. You cross your legs, watching in amusement as one of the lesser members scrambles to give Mr. Park their seat.

“I’ll have to disagree with you on that point, Mr. Park, because from what I can tell, for the last three days you all have sat here having petty arguments over who gets to take over command while my husband, your leader, rots somewhere inside the Kim mansion. Never, in my life, have I seen such a disgusting display of insubordination as from you ungrateful bastards.”

Most of the men have averted their gaze, the few still staring you down being the older generation; the ones who don’t take kindly to women asserting their power in any capacity. “I may be new to this family, but I am not new to the mafia world. I know the rules as they were laid out in the beginning. I know that if there’s no confirmed kill, the claim of the leader remains intact until he is returned to his people, alive or dead. And I also know that in such a situation, his closest relative, by blood or marriage, is put in charge in his stead. Meaning all you little shits should have been cowering at my feet if you didn’t want your heads permanently removed from your bodies.” You scan the room, searching for anyone who would dare defy you at this moment. But knowing these men, they wouldn’t do it directly; it’d be carried out as a plot to stab you in the back. You’ll need to be constantly on guard from now until you get Chan back.

It’s been a long time since anyone was even in a position to consider enforcing this provision from the code, and a great deal longer since anyone actually used it successfully. But it’s the only card you have left to play.

“I’ve let you have your fun grabbing at power like a bunch of toddlers, so now it’s time for you to do your duty and pray that my husband is a more forgiving person than I am.” You motion Jeongin forward, placing your hand at his elbow. “Mr. Yang will explain the plan I’ve proposed to locate and extract Chan. If anyone has any questions, you can take it up with me. Understood?”

A rumble of agreement is enough to satisfy you. You stand, bowing your head slightly and crossing your arms behind your back in a half-hearted attempt to hide the shaking of your sweaty palms. This could have gone much worse, and you’re lucky to have the twins and Jeongin at your side.

You leave the room, the guard outside still looking shaken up as you pass him. A few feet down the hallway you hear the door reopen and turn to see Mr. Park has followed you out.

“Invoking the old customs is… unique,” he says, giving you the distinct impression that’s not the first word he would have gone for. Something more like inappropriate, misguided, rapacious was likely on the tip of his tongue.

You stifle a scoff at his audacity. “Hmm… well I’d imagine the loyal men of a well-established family in our revered mafia community giving up on their leader almost immediately is rather uncommon as well, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s not your job to watch over him,” Mr. Park grits out, clearly irritated by your behavior.

“You know what, you’re right. That’s your job. Which apparently you can’t even do.”

You turn to leave, your composure slowly unraveling having to face him one on one, but are stopped in your tracks by the threatening tone of his voice when he says, “You should watch your tone young lady.”

Anger bubbles up inside you, but you force it down. “And you should watch your back,” you reply calmly, still facing away from him. You walk away slowly with the twins behind you, the snap of your heels on the floor hopefully conveying more confidence than you were feeling with the man’s eyes boring into your back.

You’d made it through the hardest part. Now, it was time to rescue your husband.

{check out the first character reveal}

{return to series masterlist}

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[ktheist]

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. 

synopsis. 

sit still, look pretty. 

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

x

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

x

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?” 

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-” 

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

x

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

x

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

x

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins. 

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man  back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

[sevlgi]

promises, promises

requested: yes

group: dreamcatcher

pairing: bora x fem!reader  (plus bora x siyeon)

genre: basically just angst

contents: established!relationship between bora and siyeon but they don’t love each other, coworker!au, y/n just pines alone lmfao, but there IS a happy ending

warnings: none

synopsis: Bora and Siyeon are so used to their relationship that it feels like they can’t ever change. But at this point, is continuing together really their best option?

a/n: afdfasfkasdn i hope y’all like this!!!

word count: 2.6k

“Hey, Bora, if you’re coming home tonight, can you bring some takeout?”

The word ‘if’ echoes in Bora’s headphones as she stares at her phone screen. Siyeon said the word so offhandedly in her message, obviously used to her girlfriend’s constant absent and apparently unfazed by it, but it stops Bora herself right in the middle of the road as she listens to the message.

Honestly, her situation with Siyeon is... difficult. They’ve lived together for years, so they’re both used to having schedules that never match. To an outsider, the minimal amount of time that they actually spend together would be nothing short of a red flag, but neither Bora nor Siyeon think much of it.

There’s a certain comfort of knowing what waits for you at home, even if it is figurative most of the time. Bora has had the same emergency contact for years, and she always knows who to call if she has left something at home. She never has to call a babysitter, and whenever she gets hit on, she can say that she has a girlfriend of 5 years.

But maybe saying it like that sounds too much like a business contract.

The harsh reality is that the rare time she does spend with Siyeon is almost always filled with stilted silence, made awkward by two people both too exhausted to put effort into their relationship. And when it isn’t that suffocating silence between them, it’s anger, arguments that can be brought on by the most marginal mistaken word.

All of that culminates into the fact that Bora doesn’t really go home. Neither of them have the energy to actually talk things through, but neither of them want to let go of that familiar stability either. So they’re girlfriends by name, and nothing else in their hearts.

Bora supposes that it’s as much her fault as it is Siyeon’s.

“Yo, Bora!”

A smile prods the corner of her mouth up, and she pockets the phone. “Wassup, bro?” she calls sarcastically, accepting the overly enthusiastic fist-bump from you anyway. “Since when do you greet me with ‘yo’, especially when you’re about to ask for a ride home?”

You pout. “Is it that obvious?”

“You never come after me after work ends for any other reason, so, yes.” Bora opens the passenger side of her car for you anyway, spinning her keys around her index finger. There’s a hammered silver heart hanging off the other side with her and Siyeon’s initials. 

“If you wanted my company more often, all you had to do is say so,” you sigh. As always, you reach for the aux and plug it into your phone. “Are we making any pit stops along the way? Because I’ll shoot you a coffee as payment if you want it.”

“Actually, I’m gonna pick up some takeout for me and Siyeon.”

“Oh. Cool.” You pick some song that you’ve played at least 10 times in the past week, but Bora doesn’t comment on it.

She can’t help but notice that her passenger’s seat bears more evidence of you sitting there than anyone else. The seat itself is adjusted to the way you like it, and you have a habit of leaving your phone in the exact same place on the dashboard, the only rectangle that isn’t covered in dust. 

Bora isn’t actually sure about how Siyeon would adjust her seat, actually. Before she can stop herself, she asks you, “Hey, Y/N. What would you say is strictly necessary for a relationship to work?”

You glance at her, surprised. “Uh. Are you forgetting that I’m single?”

“I’m taking that as a sign that the date from last night didn’t go well?” When you shake your head, Bora sighs, “Sorry to bring it up, then.”

“No, no, it’s fine. We only went out like three times.” You lean back to think about the question, biting on your bottom lip as you do. It’s endearing. “I think... sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? What, like Simba’s dad sacrifice?” Bora tries to joke. 

You roll your eyes, “You watch too much Disney, dumbass. I mean like... taking pictures together because one person likes to, even if the other doesn’t. Alternating your favorite pastas, taking like one hour of work off each to have a date night. That kind of sacrifice.”

“Oh. I get it, I think.” Bora does understand it; she thinks about how often Yoohyeon misses a day of work, because she claims that one paycheck isn’t worth a missed anniversary. She thinks about how JiU does the pasta thing despite not really liking Yoohyeon’s favorite, and she thinks about how she and Siyeon never do that anymore. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Bora gets out of the car to get takeout at one point, but she’s deep in thought for the rest of the ride home, even when you wave her goodbye at your own place. Sacrifice, huh?

She thinks that the only thing she sacrifices is her wallet.

Siyeon opens the door for her with a small smile, though, which makes Bora happy enough. Her girlfriend says, “I’m gonna guess you got Chinese?”

“Thai,” Bora shakes her head. The apartment is cold because Siyeon read somewhere that it helps you fall asleep faster, but Bora herself hates it. “I don’t eat Chinese food much anymore, remember?”

“Since when?” Siyeon frowns, locking the door behind her. “Last I remembered, your favorite food was those dumb little dumplings from the place down the street.”

“Last year, yeah. It doesn’t matter, though, let’s eat. What did you do today?”

It’s a boring question, but the other woman accepts it gratefully. “Uh, went to work early, but I got lunch with my mom.”

“Oh? How is she?” Bora questions, already spreading the takeout boxes all over the table. She hasn’t seen Siyeon’s mom in a while, but she misses the motherly figure. 

Siyeon shrugs and reaches for her chopsticks. “She’s fine. She wants to know when we’re getting married.”

Bora’s heart stops, and not in the good way. She and Siyeon have talked about marriage before, but it was all in the honeymoon stage, when they first started dating years ago. “Oh? What did you tell her?”

Her girlfriend raises an eyebrow. “That we aren’t even engaged, obviously. Unless I missed an important conversation?”

“N- yeah.” Bora stuffs a shrimp in her mouth to quiet herself, at least for a little bit. It’s not that she doesn’t want to get married-- she just doesn’t want anything to change. 

Of course, Siyeon doesn’t let her shock at the question go. “What?” she prods. “Is getting married that scary?”

“I mean... do you want us to get married?”

Siyeon hesitates at that. Eventually, she shakes her head in silence, and that’s enough of an answer.

There’s really nothing wrong with their relationship. But as Siyeon bids goodnight right after she finishes eating, and Bora remains in the living room, she thinks that there might not be anything right anymore either.

Bora asks about the closest engagement ring store before she can stop herself, and you stare at her. “Are you two getting engaged?”

“No. Well, it’s complicated,” Bora sighs, turning right when her phone tells her to. “Siyeon’s mother wants us to get married, and I was thinking about what you were saying. It’s time to make some sacrifices.”

You stammer, “Th- that’s not really what I meant? I meant, like, take a day or two off work and get a vacation together, maybe talk things out for more than a minute? Not... proposing. Bora, I don’t...”

“Well, what would you do if you were in my shoes? Or, better yet--” Bora holds up a hand-- “what would you do if you were Siyeon? How would you deal with me, your girlfriend of 5 years?”

Suddenly, you feel like it’s 500 degrees in the car. But you answer, “I’d... I’d plan a trip. One of those cruises that offer dinners, and then I’d just try and talk with you. Bora, do you really think you’re in the right state to get married?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bora questions. “We’re comfortable, you know. Siyeon got promoted a month ago, we make more than enough money to afford a wedding, and we’ve been together for so long, I don’t know anything without her.”

“I don’t mean financially,” you sigh. “I mean... do you think she’d say yes? Are you happy?”

‘Do you think she’d say yes?’ To be completely honest, Bora doesn’t know. She doesn’t even know what kind of a ring Siyeon would want, though she does know her ring size. She answers forcefully, “She will. I know it.”

“Okay.” You lean back, thumbs fiddling with your phone. “Bora? Would you mind dropping me off at work first? I don’t think I’ll be much help if I go with you.”

Bora nods. “Sure.”

She ends up buying a simple ring with a blue stone, something that won’t really make a dent in either of their bank accounts, but will still be enough for Siyeon to show off. The box is a heavy weight in Bora’s pocket as she arrives home, quite a bit earlier than she normally does.

“Siyeon-ah?” she asks, rapping on the door as she pushes it open.

“Bora? You’re home early,” her girlfriend replies, turning from where she is at the sink. For some reason, Bora’s relieved that it’s all Siyeon does at home when she’s alone, though there’s no reason for her to suspect anything else. “Did you get off work early?”

“Uh, I took time off.” Bora sets her bag down and takes her jacket off, watching Siyeon open the fridge for something else. “I... remember when your mom asked when we’d get married?”

“Yeah. I remember that, why?” Siyeon silently hands her a glass of water.

Instead of saying anything else, Bora takes the box out of her pocket and pops it open before sliding it over the counter. Blue glints brilliantly under the kitchen’s lights, but even to her, it looks dull.

Siyeon glances at her in surprise, saying softly, “Bora... that’s not what I meant when I told you what she said.”

“Then what did you mean?”

The younger woman sighs, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. “I. Look, aren’t we happy just as we are?”

A little bit of anger fires up in the pit of Bora’s stomach. It isn’t that she seriously wants to get married, or that it matters all that much that Siyeon doesn’t seem to, but she put in the effort. Like you had told her to, she made a sacrifice, and it hurts a bit that it doesn’t have the effect she wishes it did. “You tell me, Siyeon. Didn’t you tell me when we started dating that getting married was your goal?” Bora demands.

“I did, and that was 5 years ago,” Siyeon snaps back. “Why are you so hellbent on this, anyway? I thought you never wanted to get married.”

Bora hesitates, but she still ends up being honest. She answers quietly, “To make a relationship work, we have to make sacrifices.”

“Don’t--”

“Siyeon. Do you still love me?”

“Obviously! What kind of a question even is that?” Siyeon bites back, anger starting to furrow her eyebrows. Bora wishes she could say that it’s an unfamiliar sight, but it isn’t anymore. “Who told you all that sacrifice bullshit anyway?”

“Y/N, not that it matters.” Bora’s hands clutching tightly in her hair, she sighs, “Look, I got it wrong, okay? I’ll return the ring--”

Siyeon interrupts, “Bora, do you know why Y/N told you sacrifices make relationships work?”

When the older woman doesn’t respond, Siyeon just continues, “It’s because she’s the one making sacrifices. She understands what ‘sacrifices’ should be in a relationship, and it isn’t you buying an engagement ring when neither of us want to get married at all.”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” Bora snatches the box up from the counter and grabs her keys again. “I’m going out.”

“What, to talk to Y/N?” Bora turns to stare at Siyeon, who only stands there with crossed arms and the air that says she knows she’s right.

Bora doesn’t respond, but she does slam the front door after her a little too hard.

Whenever she needs to talk to you, Bora takes advantage of the fact that you can always be found in one corner of the office. Unlike all your other coworkers, who like to roam and chat, you’re always in the same space, unless Bora drags you out.

And she does, slamming her palms down on either side of your desk. You don’t flinch, and she says lowly, “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, but did you have to mess up my sticky notes?” you attempt to joke. Bora just grabs your wrist to tug you out of the office, leading you straight to her car without a word to anyone else. “Bora. Bora, what is this about?”

She takes a breath as soon as the two of you are sitting down, your eyes completely trained on her as she says, “Siyeon said something.”

“Oh. I’m assuming you aren’t engaged, then?”

“What- no. No, nothing close,” Bora sighs. “I tried making a sacrifice like you told me to, because I thought she wanted to get married. Spoiler, she doesn’t.”

You groan, placing your head in your hands. “Bora, that isn’t what I meant.”

Siyeon’s words about you understanding ‘sacrifice’ ring in the other woman’s head, but Bora stays silent and lets you continue, “Look, sacrifice in a relationship doesn’t mean literally sacrificing your own wants and stuff. It means accommodating the person you love, going out of your way to do nice things without doing damage to yourself.”

“Like you do?” Bora’s voice is soft, almost too soft for you to catch, but you do hear it. 

And instead of an adverse reaction, instead of denying it, you nod. “Yeah.”

Silence fills the car, and you don’t dare to raise your head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I ever knew.”

“No, I know you didn’t.” You sigh and reach over to fiddle with the keychain you left on the passenger door handle. “I mean, you were so in love when we met. And now...”

“I’m not,” she finishes.

You shrug, “Well, that’s up to you to figure out. You’ve figured me out, anyway. And I’ve waited this long, I won’t blame you for whatever decision you do make.”

“What if you didn’t have to wait?”

Bora suddenly remembers the box sitting in her pocket, and digs it out. She doesn’t know if it’ll fit your finger, or if you’ll even like it, but it’s spontaneous, and Bora thinks it’s the way that things should be. “Take it,” she offers, “as a promise. I know what I have to do, but I want to promise to you that... I’ll come back to you. And I think I should promise that I’ll start loving you the way you’ve loved me.”

You take the box gently, and as light as it is, Bora feels a weight taken away. You’ve always had that effect on her, after all. “Okay. I accept your promise, and I’ll wait. For you.”

The ring is a little tight, and you put it on your pinky instead of the normal fingers, but it feels secure. It feels like Bora will keep her promise this time, to both her and you.

[mae-gi-writes]

Obtuse | Bang Chan (Stray Kids) - PART ONE

Summary ☆ "I don't know. I want to be his friend but then again, I don't. I mean, how can you simply be friends with someone when every time you look at them, you're thinking about how much more you really want?"

Genre ☆ bestfriends to lovers au, angst, slowburn, suggestive themes, college au, fluff, soft Chan x oc (Micha)

Word count ☆ 6k ish

. ° ☆ ° .

PART ONE

. ° ☆ ° .

Micha hated being wrong.

Her fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm over her notebook as she stared at the block of text she had been supposedly studying for the past hour, her desk lamp casting a yellowish hue over her page as if the book itself was a sickly entity with the sole goal of rendering her mad. Attached to her ceiling, her fan kept on whirring in a noisy hum which -- while she normally managed to tune it out --  grated at her nerves. The world bustled outside, cars honking in the distance while soft rain splattered over her bedroom window as she sighed for what must’ve been the nth time that evening, slowly lifting her arms up in a stretch. 

It wasn’t in her nature to be so scatter-brained, for once she set her mind to something, there could be little to stop her. That was one of the qualities she could pride herself on considering that there was hardly any skill she could flaunt to the world -- surely there were far more interesting things than reciting off a long list of human body parts and their required functions? 

But this recent issue popping up in her brain was doing a great job at knocking her off her feet. Dear god, she felt the same sense of unbalance as when she was five and her mom had enrolled her into ballerina lessons. 

Long story short, it hadn’t ended well.

Micha’s eyes darted to her phone that she’d tossed onto her bed a few minutes ago. The cause of her restlessness, the cause of unease stirring inside her stomach like an angry beast prowling back and forth.

The words from his earlier message felt like they were etched into her memory: 

Chan: SHE SAID YES

Just three words. Three little stings that made her wince every time she thought of them. Three little needles that pierced at her heartstrings.

Why? 

Her grip tightened onto her pen. So hard her knuckles turned the colour of chalk.

Why didn’t she feel happy for him as she was supposed to? 

Micha’s tongue poked at her cheek. 

Why did it feel so wrong? Why did she feel wronged when she’d done nothing of the sort? 

Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she had spurred Chan's obvious interest, urging him to hustle a little closer to that particular girl in question when she had caught the said young man casting her quick, shy glances over the rim of his drink?

"Just ask her," Micha told him when he'd sought her out looking like a lost puppy amidst the heavy bass of the music. It had been the summer right before their final year of University and on this special occasion, Minho had thrown a small party to which every high school classmate of their year had been invited.

"You know I can't. I don't know how...you know," he scratched the back of his head, dark locks ruffling as the summer wind. It was in those small, stolen moments -- where Chan was the most vulnerable, where he let down his guard to deploy his array of unspoken feelings -- that she remembered the young man for who he was: the familiar fullness of his full lips, the curve of his nose, the simplicity of his monolids.

"You won't know till you try," she took a sip of her rum and coke.

Truthfully speaking, Chan had never been in a serious relationship. He was friends with everyone, the kind of person that was easy-going and who could engage in any kind of conversation with anyone and everyone. The only consequence was that Chan was thrust into the friendzone without even trying.

But then again, he was a nice guy. And nice guys finished last.

“What’s the worst that can happen anyway?” Micha joked as she downed the rest of her drink, “she’s been eyeing you since we got here.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

He leaned closer with squinted eyes as he tried to find the lie in her words, “you’re not just saying that to be nice?”

He was so close she got a whiff of his scent. Reaching up with her index finger to push him away, Micha proceeded to roll her eyes, “I don’t do nice, Chan. We both know that.” 

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him slip away a few minutes later to seek her out. Ayeong was her name. Beauty, in Korean. And which suited her perfectly, what with her tiny waist and her big set of doe eyes that could make any man weak at the knees, her supple legs that seemed to go on and on forever and that cupid bow’s mouth that was always puckered in that innocently cute, yet sensual way of hers.

And if not for her physique, Ayeong was known for her kindness and for her outgoing, free-natured and confident spirit. That was the killer blow for any man that sought her out. 

Micha had known her since high school, hung out with the same friends and admittedly could classify her as one too, even though college life had pulled them apart like boats that had left the harbour only to find each other after a year.

Memories of Micha’s last night flickered behind her open lids and leaning back into her chair with a sigh, she gave way to the sudden urge of homesickness suddenly flowing through her heart. 

Their last movie night had ended and despite Micha’s frantic eye movements towards Ayeong’s figure, Chan had immediately volunteered to walk her back home. 

Micha kept her gaze forward, noticing how the golden glow of the street lamps did little to light their way. She turned her head to the right, where the road gave way to the landscape littered with golden lights, now bathed in deep hues of blue as light slowly slithered from behind the mountains. 

“So this is it huh?” Chan’s murmur sliced through with a hint of sadness in his deep alto, “you sure you’re not going to come back home for Christmas?” 

It was tradition after all. They had made it adamant to travel back at least every three months and up until now, they had kept that promise. 

Now though, with Micha’s piling workload and with Chan’s busy thesis schedule, this year might be the one exception.

“I can’t, Chan. I have my internship,” Micha didn’t dare look at him, fighting the tightness winding in her chest, “you can always drop by. My university is just a train ride away I suppose.”

"You’re not gonna kick me out if I turn up at your door one day?” 

“I can’t promise that.” 

He gasped, grabbing onto his chest in mock hurt, “Ouch. Okay, what if I turn up with your favourite bubble tea?” 

"Then we might have a deal.” 

They both laughed softly, pushing each other with their elbows as they walked up Micha’s street. At one point, Chan had looped his arm around hers before shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and as they talked about their recent adventures and all the dumb things they’d done, it was clear that he was avoiding the pain of saying goodbye right until he stopped at her front door.

She turned to him and forced down the tears burning at the edges of her eyes. The morning light had slithered through the landscape now and hit the side of Chan’s face in a scarlet shade of golden, reflecting the caramel of his orbs pinning her down with a sadness that made her throat choke up.

“Stop it,” the words flew from her mouth without warning and Chan blinked, head tilting with confusion, “What? Stop what?” 

“Stop...looking at me like that,” she finished her sentence in a mumble while she averted her eyes in growing embarrassment.

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re going to cry.” 

“I’m not!” 

“There are tears in your eyes!” 

“N-No there aren’t!” And he quickly wiped at his face before angling his head to the side, “why would I cry for you?” 

“You tell me.” 

“Well I’m not!” He turned away to walk down the driveway in a huff, “bye now!” 

“Ugh bye loser!” 

Micha turned so quickly she almost smacked her face onto her front door, hurriedly trying to erase the image of Chan’s back walking away from her before she broke down into a pool of hot tears.

She didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to linger upon the way her throat seemed to choke up as she fought the emotion--

"Micha?” 

Chan’s voice. It floated between them, a lingering question. The said girl felt rooted in place, fighting the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

And when she turned, she was met with his arms lacing around her middle to pull her close. 

His chin on her shoulder, head pressed against hers. Holding her tight. 

“Video calls every week,” he murmured, “at least one text per day.” 

"What are you? My boyfriend?” 

“Micha.” 

“Fine, fine.” 

Chan's warmth felt like sunshine on her back. If she closed her eyes hard enough she could travel back to that very moment she allowed herself to be swayed back and forth in those strong arms of his.

In the weeks following the start of their final year Micha had plunged headfirst into her studies to avoid the slow build-up of homesickness crawling through her heart. And the more work piled up, the less she found time to update Chan on her life. What with her endless hours spent in the library and the small bursts of freedom that she spent with her course mates, it made it close to impossible to sit down and have a proper talk.

So when Chan video-called her one day, her burst of excitement was soon rendered to something akin to annoyance when the only reason was to tell her about Ayeong’s visit to his campus. She couldn’t ignore the slight sting of jealousy coating the back of her tongue as he blabbered off like an excited child, eyes shining and all. 

“I think I might ask her out at the end of this week,” he grinned with dreamy eyes, “I think there’s definitely something.” 

“Good for you.” 

He’d noticed her irritation, as if there was an itch under her skin she couldn’t quite reach, “You okay, Mi? I didn’t even get to ask--”

“I’m fine,” she snapped and softened almost instantly when hurt flashed through his face, “I’m sorry,...just stressed out.” 

“Hey,” concern immediately clouded his features over, “you gotta take care of yourself too. Are you eating well? Sleeping well?” 

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips when she’d shook her head reluctantly, “Don’t make me come over. You know I can do that.” 

“That would be nice,” came her mumble which didn’t reach his ears, for he asked, “What?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed, brushing off the wistful thoughts swimming inside her head and focusing back on Chan’s face at the other end of the screen, “keep me updated with the Ayeong thing.” 

She’s not right for you, her brain seemed to scream. 

But Ayeong did. She did say yes.

And Micha wasn’t sure why she was feeling so bitter about it.

. ° ☆ ° .

"Please sign here, miss.” 

Micha’s surprised orbs quickly flitted up from the large cardboard box to the postman’s clipboard being shoved in her face, “Uh--sure.”

She scrawled her initials, gave back the clipboard with a muttered ‘thanks’ before the postman shoved the box in her arms and walked away without even giving her a second glance. 

Had she ordered something online by accident? That wouldn’t be surprising. Since midterm season, time had been irrelevant to Micha, flowing like a ticking time bomb the more the days approached towards her final deadlines.

To say that she was a walking corpse on campus was not an understatement. 

She got her answer a few minutes later when she answered the phone from a very excited, puppy-like Chan. 

“Did you get it?!” he bellowed with barely contained excitement. Still wrapped up in his blankets with his hair dishevelled and his eyes barely open, Micha couldn’t help but grin at the comical picture he presented, “did you get the package?” 

“By package, you mean this big-ass box?” Micha turned the camera to the floor, causing him to squeal like a child who got his Christmas presents early. 

“Oh nice! Open it, come on!” 

“Chan, I swear if it’s something like one of those scary muppets you like so much--”

“You have so little faith in me.” 

“Can you blame me when you were the one who put salt in my coffee?” 

“It was just to experiment.” 

“That coffee was of good quality!” 

“Just open it." 

She tore open the package while grumbling under her breath at how bossy he was being, cracked open the box to blink at the different flavours of tea filling it up to the brim. 

“You--” she couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up her throat, “you got me tea?” 

“Wait--unless I got this wrong -- you like tea right?” 

His panicked tone made her burst out in even more laughter, “Oh my god Chan!” 

“You always tell me to spill the tea--I was just trying to be punny.” 

“It’s--Oh my god--” she doubled over laughing and Chan joined in with giggles of his own, “Chan, you’re so bad.” 

“Admit it, it’s funny.”

“It’s lame!” 

She grinned back at her phone as warmth spread through her middle. It was admittedly in moments like these that she missed Chan the most. The longing to see him suddenly surged through her with such ferocity in the form of tears slowly brimming at the corner of her eyes and she had to turn away while changing the subject. 

“Got any plans this weekend?” she asked while looking over the various flavours of tea.

“Oh didn’t I tell you? Ayeong’s coming.” 

She almost choked on her own spit. Right. She’d forgotten about the whole Ayeon situation and Chan hadn’t updated her since then. 

"We’re spending the weekend together, I think I might bring her to the aquarium. Oh, I was gonna ask you -- what do girls like on their first dates?” his face was now alight with such a joyful glow, a spark in his eyes, that it almost hurt to look at him. 

“Does Ayeong like aquariums to start with?” Micha asked even if she secretly adored going to aquariums herself. It was admittedly a very romantic notion, to hold hands in the darkened rooms as you would watch the fish swim about. 

Chan shrugged on the other side of the screen, “dunno, thought it might be romantic.” 

You thought right, Micha’s subconscious responded, “what about just dinner?” she proposed, “maybe Ayeong wants to spend time talking. You know, getting to know each other.” 

"Hm, true. Yeah, I might look up a good restaurant. Girls don't like fast foods do they? Or anything that makes them gain weight?"

The angry creature was slowly rousing in her stomach, growling, "how would I know?"

"Well, you're a girl."

"That's exactly what the lame redheaded sidekick in Harry Potter said."

"FYI, his name is Ron and he’s not lame."

"That's not the point I was trying to make."

"Michaaaa~" Chan whined, wriggling his shoulders with a pout, "I gave you tea, stop being mean to me."

But it was useless. All the giddiness that had erupted through her at his sweet gesture was eaten up by a bitter taste on her tongue and with that she hurriedly made up a petty excuse about having class before quickly cutting off the call.

She brought her phone to her chest as she looked down at the tea boxes with growing tiredness. That was probably it right? She was in a bad mood because she was tired.

Right?

. ° ☆ ° .

"I still don't get why we have to watch it with you," Micha grumbled, plopping down beside Felix's lanky frame on the couch and careful not to jostle the bowl of salted caramel popcorn in her hands.

"Because I can't be the only one who can't sleep tonight," Changbin stated dryly like that statement totally made sense. He plopped down on her other side while Jisung settled himself against Micha's legs, "if I go down, you go down with me."

Felix snorted, "that's just a nice way to say that he likes bullying us."

Midterms were over, meaning that reading week would be a pleasurable moment of calm and serenity before assignments picked up again. It was a liminal space between deadlines, a gap that Micha and the rest of her course mates had gladly welcomed with open arms. Being the movie fanatic that he was, Changbin had jumped at the chance of hosting movie night, much to the group's displeasure for they knew that his taste in entertainment was rather jarring. Sometimes violent. And sometimes, brought about nightmares that lasted a week.

"What are we watching again?" Jisung twisted his head to look at the trio, causing both Micha and Felix to shoot Changbin accusatory looks.

"The nun," Changbin replied.

Felix whistled as Jisung jumped up crying, "Do you want me to die?!"

"No. But do you mind if we sleep in the same room tonight?"

"Fuck you I'm out of here," Jisung was already scrambling to his feet when Micha's hand shot out, clamping down on his forearm, "oh no no no, you're going down with the rest of us, Han."

"Do you know how scary that movie is?!"

"Yes, which is precisely why we're going to murder Changbin once it's ov--"

Felix's phone sprang to life amidst the conversation, "oh Chan's calling!"

The group wasted no time squishing up, limbs entangling and elbows pushing onto ribs as they all crowded around Felix's small smartphone that he held at arm's distance before sliding his finger over the green button.

"Hey mate!" Felix's Australian accent slipped out the moment Chan's face appeared onscreen and Micha would've lied to say it didn't sting a little seeing her best friend's face after so long.

"What's up Felix? Oh you're all here?" Chan's grin widened.

" Changbin's forcing us to watch the Nun with him," Micha said.

" Tattletale," muttered the said hooded-eyed man as he shoved her head. Micha laughed.

" And you? What are you up to?" Felix asked while Jisung was struggling to push Changbin's arm to get into the camera frame, " Bin, fucking move."

"Language."

" Oh I'm with Ayeong right now. Hyunjin and Minho are playing FIFA," Chan moved the camera around until Ayeong's petite face came into view, causing a knot to form in Micha's abdomen.

"Hello!"

" Ayeong! Lookin' good!"

" How's Channie treating you?"

" Has he farted in front of you yet?"

" Guys!" Chan's checks proceeded to flood with colour while the said young woman giggled in the background.

" As a matter of fact, he's been nothing but respectful."

Ugh. She was so sweet that it made Micha feel sick in her stomach. But as though Ayeong had read her mind, she immediately asked, "Micha, are the guys treating you well? How's your thesis coming along? Chan tells me you practically live in the library."

" What?” Jisung snorted, “that's not true, she--" 

Micha elbowed him before he could splutter out the truth when she had been lying to Chan all along and blabbered out, “Yeah I've been trying to finish my thesis in time because the first deadline is in two weeks. And you? How’s your internship at the hotel going?” 

Micha was thankful when Ayeong chatted on about her experience as a hotel management trainee at one of the best hotel chains in the country. It was a close call and she smacked Jisung some more for good measure, throwing him a narrow-eyed glare which he returned with a scowl of his own, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. 

As the conversation moved on to the topic of the holidays, Micha’s eyes automatically drifted to the diminished space between Chan and Ayeong’s shoulders, noticed the way he kept leaning back with his arm slowly crawling its way to Ayeong’s backside. Something tugged at her heartstrings, caused her to swallow hard. It was clear from the obvious grin on her best friend’s face that he was the happiest he’d ever been since...well, since.

All Micha wanted was to be happy for Chan. Genuinely happy. 

Not the kind of happiness that made her wish she was miles away and blind, not the kind that made her chest ache and her heart hurt as though someone had just gutted her insides out.

At some point, she excused herself and walked out into the backyard, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie as she looked up into the murky, cloudy sky above. How long had it been since they’d last spoken? There was no one to blame for that. They were both sprinting at a hundred miles an hour and she couldn’t blame Chan for falling so hard, so quickly, too quickly for a girl that was so easy, so loveable. Ayeong was the perfect match for him, now that Micha thought about it. 

And plus, Chan had been talking about her for ages.

But she still didn’t get it. Still didn’t understand why it constantly felt as though someone was slapping reality in her face. 

Over and over again.

“Micha!” 

Felix’s head popping out from the kitchen doorway made the said young woman swivel around, quickly rearranging her features in a cold mask of indifference, “Chan wants to talk to you.” 

“Why?��� 

Even in the dark she saw Felix’s eyebrow quirk up, “you’re asking?” 

That was stupid, Micha’s subconscious rolled her eyes as she reluctantly trudged to the kitchen door and grabbed the phone from Felix’s hold. She waited for the door to close behind her before lifting the camera to her face.

“What?” 

Chan’s arms were crossed in an attempt to appear mad, though they both knew it would take a lot more to ignite that anger in him, “ Well hello there, stranger. Nice of you to show your face after weeks of going off radar. No messages, no phone calls. We were supposed to call every week. What have you got to say for yourself?” 

In any normal circumstances Micha would’ve shot back with a witty comeback without thinking as she usually did. That was the nature of their relationship after all; that endless bickering, that back and forth sibling relationship that made her feel so at ease in her skin that she sometimes forgot Chan wasn’t even part of her family.

Right now though, she felt her free hand twitch, index finger pressing onto her thumb as she nervously grated at her skin.

Biting onto her bottom lip, the only thing she managed to muster out was, “sorry.” 

Surprise flashed through Chan’s face. There was a heavy silence for a minute.

“Micha,” Chan murmured, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

" Sure. Care to tell me what 'nothing' is about?"

"Chan, please," She rubbed a tired hand over her face, " I'm just not feeling it today."

He stared at her for a whole minute. Micha felt herself starting to squirm.

" Okay," he mumbled out, " Okay."

Regret instantly bit at her subconscious. She loathed the slight disappointment on his face and in a half- hearted attempt to lighten the mood, she quickly veered into another subject and ignored the poignant stare he kept sending her way. She'd rather be oblivious than try and extort some coherent sense out of the tangled ball of feelings in her stomach.

When they said goodbye though, Chan leaned a little closer to the screen, an undecipherable expression on his face, " call me when you feel better."

Micha nodded and swallowed thickly.

" I mean it Micha," his voice was stern, " call me."

Maybe it was the guilt whispering at the back of her conscience, maybe it was the way she saw a flash of his face in a stranger's every time she walked the streets that made her reach out to Chan once more in the next few days after that, willing herself to make as much effort as he did. Because Chan deserved that much.

They would text in-between classes, a mixture of casual jokes and an exchange of anime-related jokes that he kept sending her and causing her to burst out laughing in the middle of her classes. But while she was glad to see that Chan had no grudges to her lack of response, she still tried to steer clear of mentioning Ayeong.

That was starting to become more and more problematic.

Chan: Ayeong is allergic to crab. Did you know that?!

Micha: No

Chan: we went to eat at that snack stand, the one near the skate park we used to go to. She blew up like a goldfish.

Micha would've given anything to see that ridiculous sight. That was quickly overtaken by the stubborn pang of jealousy at the thought of them going to places she visited so frequently with Chan. 

It didn’t stop there. 

A few days later, Chan had texted her about their dinner to his parents' house and her stomach dropped like she'd just fallen down an elevator shaft.

Chan: They loved her. They actually loved her. I think my heart is gonna explode.

Micha had to force out a reply:

Micha: what did your mum cook?

Chan: guess.

Micha: pork ribs and braised beef?

Chan: yess omg! You actually remember. Ayeong loved it. She eats a lot for her size. And dad sat her down after dinner to show off his chess awards. The nerd.

Micha: cool.

Thankfully, her internship started a few weeks later, which meant that it was easier to ignore the glow of happiness in Chan's face and the way he seemed to be drifting away from her arms, slipping through her fingers no matter how much she tried to grasp at the strings of their relationship -- or what seemed to be left of it.

"You sure you don't want to come back home for Winter Break?" Felix asked once when he'd turned up at her shared flat uninvited just as she was closing the door to hurry for her night shift. He’d followed her down the staircase, long legs easily matching her pace as she took two steps at a time. 

“I can’t,” Micha replied breathlessly through her scarf, “I’ve got my internship.”

“Surely you can ask for a few days off? Just for Christmas?” 

"Nope."

Beside her, Felix grumbled, "You're no fun."

"Never said I was."

Micha had to admit that the reason why it hadn't been as hard to ignore the growing hole in her heart where Chan was supposed to be was all due to the three young men standing by her side. As childish as they were, they all had good intentions and it made Micha's heart fill with warmth whenever they did make it obvious that they cared.

Her phone buzzed suddenly just as the pair reached the bus stop. She quickly fished it out of her bag, eyebrows pinching in a frown upon seeing her father's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" She gave Felix a shrug when he mouthed whether everything was okay from her side. Nothing. 

She repeated, "hello? Pa? You there?"

"Micha."

Her frown deepened at the sound of her father's voice. He sounded breathless, a tone higher than his usual alto.

"Pa, what's wrong?"

"It's your mother. There was an accident."

. ° ☆ ° .

"What happened?"

Less than six hours later, Micha sat in the hospital corridor right outside her mother's room. She still had on her nurse uniform, completely dismissing all of her responsibilities and obligations the moment her father had informed her of her mother's accident.

If she were to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to make it back without her knees giving away. But Felix had been there, a silent stone figure at her side as she'd thrown a bunch of clothes in a carry-on suitcase and grabbing the laptop from her shaky hands to book the earliest flight which was to depart in merely two hours.

Nothing had mattered then. Nothing but the need to see her mother and make sure that everything was fine. She didn't remember going through security, didn't even remember the plane taking off while gazing out of the window with a glazed look in her eyes and forcing down all the tears strangling her throat.

Micha's brain only came into focus the moment she was greeted by none other than her father’s face, heavy bags under his eyes and the tip of his nose red. 

Multiple lacerations. A broken femur. Heavy concussion that might result in potential brain damage. Words that Micha knew off by heart, could recite them in her sleep if she wanted to. Words that she’d spent months and endless sleepless nights poring over. 

Words that shot bullets through her, each one leaving an open wound. 

“She was waiting for the bus.” 

Her father’s voice, old and gravelled and shattered, brought her back to the reality of the hospital. His alto strung through the air of the corridor like a tightly coiled string about to snap. 

Micha took a shaky breath.

“I...I was late. At the restaurant. Too many people,” all the time that her father spoke, his gaze was glued to the operation door where Micha’s mother laid as if he could will her back to good health if he stared at it hard enough, “So she went back home first because she had to feed the cat. That stupid cat...If it weren’t--If it weren’t for him she wouldn’t have gotten hit--” he choked on his words, “--by the bus.” 

Cold dread threaded through Micha’s stomach and squeezed so tight she thought she would pass out. Her brain was already trying to put two and two together; finding the solution, figuring out the case, the damage. The solution, the--

“They said there’s little chance that she’ll wake up.” 

Reality struck like cold ice.

“What...” her mouth was dry, “...percentage?”

“fifty-fifty.” 

Her eyes slipped closed, squeezed tight. Silence trailed on with only the bustling sound of medical equipment and a hushed flurry of voices in the distance. 

Do something, her brain screamed at her, just do something! 

There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Her hands clamped into fists so hard her nails stung her palms. All she could do was wait.

So she did.

She must’ve dozed off at some point. Time seemed endless as the hours ticked by and by the time her mother was wheeled out, exhaustion was pulsating through her every muscle, her every limb. She stayed awake long enough to listen to the doctor’s statement, only to storm out in frustration upon realizing that there was no real answer and that the only thing that had been possible to do was stitch up her mother’s wounds as best as they could. 

In short, the doctor himself didn’t know when she’d wake up.

Micha was so intent on walking out for some fresh air that she barely processed a familiar alto calling her name in the distance, until a pair of arms snatched her shoulders back. 

She whipped around, “What?!--”

Her eyes fell upon Chan. 

Time stopped. Her mouth parted. 

Red-faced and with his beanie all the way down to cover himself from the cold, she would’ve barely recognized him if they were passerby’s on the street. But as he stood there with his runny nose and eyes that looked like they’d just cracked open, a wave of emotion hit Micha with such intensity that tears brimmed through her eyes. 

“Felix told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I--”

And that was when Micha broke down into ugly sobs, legs giving away only to be saved by Chan’s arms wounding around her middle to pull her against his chest. 

Amidst it all, she swore she heard her heart breaking.

She wasn’t sure whether it was because of her mother. Or because throughout it all, even in the worst of times, she had come to a realization that knocked the breath out of her. 

She loved Chan. 

. ° ☆ ° .

Tagging: @elysianxshepherd​ @maedesculpaeusoubi​ @missskzbiased​ @freckledquokka​ @allyg-onz​ 

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

WELP here it is, my totally self indulgent reader x binsung fic that has developed into so much more than I expected!! thank you lovelies for hyping me up to write more of this story ily!! hehe we are indeed in for a spicy, angsty, and fluffy time!! You can read part 1 here

Part 2  

Paring: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!jisung, rapper!changbin, artist!reader, established fwb!jisung, explicit language, oral (f receiving), that good, good makin’ out,   sub!reader, cockydom!jisung, on that note, jisung being horny as hellll, the cutest bestfriend!felix there is, changbin’s flirty ass, a sprinkling of angst, ro being in her fanfic writer element uwu 

Word count: 3.1k

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

[00:19] 

han jisung: you like the performance? 

you looked stunning. 

where did you go? i couldn’t find you. i even stayed after. 

[00:28] 

me: oh really? just for me? 

han jisung: you left something at my place last time, I was going to give it back to you. 

me: that’s why you wanted to see me? i don’t believe you. 

[00:36] 

han jisung: are you doing anything right now? 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Against the heat of your sweating body on the matted quilt, a winter chill seeped in through the wooden windowsill, dusty with age. Had you not been burning with heat, you would have been freezing. Fistfuls of the quilt filled up your hands, and your fingers dug into the fabric hard enough to make your nailbeds change color. You hadn’t even noticed that you had been slightly grinding into his mouth. 

“you taste so good baby,” Jisung’s breath swirled into your swollen clit.

A tiny squeak escaped your lips at the sensation.

Both of his arms had curled under your legs to pull them farther apart, lending his nails to dig lightly into your skin. He chuckled out pridefully onto your sensitive bud, the vibrations heightening your arousal. Jisung kissed gently into you with the luxurious sounds of your excitement and his saliva mixing on his lips. His eyes held a mischievous green haze as he would look up at you with his big brown eyes, flattening out his tongue to lick at you in thick, agonizing lines. At last, he would suck and on your clit, flicking his tongue around it sporadically, as if he was giving every nerve ending his complete attention.

The way that he would suck on your clit was unreal.

As if to balance yourself, you raked one of your hands instinctually through his nearly black strands.  

“Ji--” You choked out half of his name, too weak to summon the rest.

You were impossibly close. With eyes scrunched up a little, they rolled up from his taunting gaze to your ceiling.

On the shitty paint job up there, there was a crack. It was an ugly crack at that: the kind that was browning from water damage and segued into other tinier veins. Your apartment was old anyway. It wasn’t uncommon for old apartments like that to have cracks in the ceiling.  

You hadn’t really recognized it before.

Why haven’t I noticed that before?

“fuck, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm.” You focused back on his lapping tongue, feeling the tension build once more. “ ‘M close.”

Jisung quickened his pace, sucking harder and rubbing the tip of his tongue over your mound. You could even feel the little haughty smile on his mouth when your hips jerked up toward him.

As you neared your orgasm, memories fogged your eyes, you let them roll over and over, relishing in how good it had all felt. Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to feel filled up hopelessly deep inside.

“f-fingers” Your whispers begged.

Jisung obliged, sliding his index and ring in to pump in and out of your walls.

Perhaps you had made it up to feel better than it was in your head.

You came a couple minutes after, limbs shaking under his teasing while he helped you ride out your high, tongue still circling around your clit. Shallow inhales filled up your lungs as you calmed your body.

You didn’t remember it feeling like that...you remembered it being...unreal.

Jisung lead kisses up your stomach before giving a couple fleeting kisses to your breast, smug as he always was.

“-Felt good?”

Little aftershocks still tugged at your body. “...As always Ji.”

“Mm. Good.” He beamed widely with the pearly white grin that had drawn you to him in the first place. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Jisung tugged his boxers down, letting free his properly hardened member, veiny and tip dripping with his eager pre-cum. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Jisung prowled over your body, stretching out your legs up in front of him.

Your thighs shook in his hands.

“Jisung, wait--”

“--What is it?” Worriedly, his eyes widened looking down at you.

“...can we give it a sec? Can you give me a sec?”

His puzzled expression gave you his answer.

“I just fucking came Ji, can’t you give me a damn minute to settle down before we go at it again?”

His mouth formed a little “oh” then he slid down to lay beside you, brows crossed slightly. “...you’ve never asked for this before.”

“just shut up and kiss me alright?”

Jisung nodded, bridging the gap between your faces and the mess of pillows under your heads.

When Jisung wasn’t trying to fuck you, he was actually a decent kisser. Against your better judgement, there had been times when you would let your mind linger over these kisses that you had wished he had given you more of. His mouth was warm, and tasted slightly of your arousal from before. Jisung’s tongue asked for permission on your bottom lip, which you granted entrance. He leaned himself further into you, moaning breathily into your mouth. Just because you liked how he would whine for you, you pulled at his lip with your teeth.

You don’t know why your eyes had opened, but there it was again. The crack.

How long had it been there?

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“I just can’t believe you, Y/n.”  

Felix’s voiced echoed though the empty alley, your favored shortcut to campus. Dumpsters covered with snow lined the road riddled in potholes. In each hole, melted snow had leaked in to turn to ice once more. Felix had already slipped three times. Both of your arms linked together to make him feel better.

“How many times are you gonna make me apologize? It ended up being fine anyway.”

“When I say to text me when you get back, what are you supposed to do?”

“Text when I get ba-- “

“--Text when you get back!!!” The little puffball on Felix’s hat bounced in his frustration. “You couldn’t even text me to tell me that something had happened? Do you know how nervous I was?”

“Felix, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Does that do it?”

Your adorable companion grimaced at you, unamused. “I just think that I’m more astonished that you actually stayed over. What the hell did he offer to you? Food? Money?”

“Felix!!” You shoved him away from your body in your dramatic shock. “How dare you think that I would stoop that low!”

“...Well...”

“HEY!”

“You know how I feel about Jisung.”

“He’s not Jisung...that’s for sure.”

“You know about them Y/n. You yourself have said that they’re all the same.”

“Cocky, overzealous dickheads who know exactly what to do with their mouths?”

Felix rolled his eyes coupled with an annoyed groan under his breath. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He huffed out his breath into the freezing air. “His presence didn’t nauseate you?”

“I was tired. I honestly don’t remember falling asleep, I only remember waking up before the sun came up and leaving.”

“-Didn’t even say goodbye? See you again? Your phone number?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him again.”

“You don’t?”

“He...looked at me weird.”

Felix let out a flabbergasted pshhhh, which turned into a startled little gasp when his foot caught the ice. As always, you were there to catch his falls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That he looked at me weird! What the hell else is it supposed to mean?”

“Care to expand?”

It had been four days. Four days that had felt much longer than four days. Four days since he had looked at you like you like you were the only person to ever live and breathe. You knew what was in his eyes. It was something you hadn’t truly felt on your body for a long time.

“You’re perfect.” He had said to you, barely knowing more than your name.

In your lusty haze that night, you had said something about being all his.

You barely knew more than his name.

In the days after when you recalled the whole night, searching for answers to why you had said what you had, no explaination pieced together. You hadn’t belonged to anyone in such a long time, and you certainly didn’t belong to him.

He had asked to know you better, but you kissed the words away on his lips before he could say any more.

Your body shivered placing the memory of his fingers tracing up and down your back as you had studied his features, the two of you still connected.

You turned to your friend, “No. Because there isn’t anything more to talk about. He looked at me weird, and I’d rather not see him again.”

“~Oookay then~” Felix nuzzled into your arm. “You working today? Can you make it Chan’s after? We’re gonna play some Smash and there’s a new DLC!”

“-Can’t make it, I’ve got some projects to work on.”

“School or the other kind?”

“Both. My new paper should be coming today.”

“Suit yourself...but we’ll miss youuuu.” The peppy blonde squeezed hard where he held onto you, only to have his feet fall out from under him on the ice.

You quickly softened his fall, holding his body up before his butt would hit the concrete. “I don’t think that I’m the one that you should be worrying about ‘lix.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

From your favorite corner of the library, the sun would shine the brightest at sunset, and luckily, often your scheduling would let you see it. Sometimes you liked to think that you owned it in this little corner on the fourth floor. Better yet, it was situated near the stacks of old newspapers and periodicals so seldom did this corner see anyone else other than you.

The shelf was nestled near to one of the floor-length windows which overlooked the skyline. At this time of year nearest to the aftermath of Christmas, the city lights were still peppered with greens, reds, yellows and blues. You thought to yourself that there was nothing more magnificent than the way the sky would fade from the color of blood oranges to the depths of the ocean with the dawn. You had painted it nearly a hundred times, but each time you were left unsatisfied; it was impossible for your hands to recreate something so unique.

Standing this close to the glass, you could feel the winter cold emanating off of it.

“--Beautiful right?”

His voice had startled you, and for a moment you had thought that you had imagined him.

“‘Kinda thing makes me wanna write.”

He walked up right next to you, hands in his pant’s pockets. A billowy looking black hoodie wrapped around his body and his gaudy silver chain peeked from under his collar. You shouldn’t have expected him to look directly at you. He still wouldn’t give you the pleasure until you demanded it.

Silently the two of you stood watching the sun dissipate beyond the horizon for what seemed like hours. Just as you remembered, his massive aura was nearly suffocating. There was something new however: the scent of rosemary and cedarwood which hung around him.

At long last, he muttered, “You didn’t give me a chance to see you off.”

You swallowed dry. “What are you doing here?”

“You gonna answer my question first?” From the corner of his eyes, his stormy pupils teased you.

“You first.” You straightened yourself best you could.

“My roommate goes here. I was looking around for him. Your turn.”

Changbin took his hands out from his pockets to intentionally twist the silver rings around his fingers.

“I work here.” You answered, opting to finesse your way out of answering his question by answering yours.

“Huh. You’re a librarian?” He scoffed out a single laugh. “Why do I find this slightly ironic...considering where we met.”

“I just move stuff around. Ever heard of a part time job?” You clenched out the words between your teeth.

“Oh believe me, I have. Got a few myself. It’s what I get for choosing music over school.”

“How honorable.”

“I’m a man of honor...as you know.” His eyes finally cast down at you.

Frankly, your memory must’ve been shit, because he looked even more unreal than you remembered.  

“Actually, I’m kind of glad that I ran into you here. What a coincidence, huh?”

“--Sure.” You quipped.

Changbin tilted his head with a growing smirk. “Knees feeling better?”

“They’re fine.”

“Good thing that I was there to help you.”

“You don’t have to pretend like you’re talking about my knees Changbin.”

You turned to walk away, only for him to twist himself around into your path.

“You’ve got me.” He rose his arms up in defeat. “Since I didn’t get your number, I didn’t get the chance to tell you--” Changbin’s body mass leaned ever so slightly closer to you, his dark eyes glossing over with that same confidence that he held so naturally. He breathed into your ear, “I really enjoyed our time together.”

His words send a shiver down your entire body that you prayed he didn’t see. You took a hand flat to his chest to remove him from your space.

“D-don’t you have a roommate that you should be finding?”

“Libraries are big places. Plenty of places for me to get lost...”

He advanced again, cupping a hand to the side of your face and rubbing his thumb into the soft of your cheek.

There he was, looking at you again like that. Had it not been addicting, you would have been terribly annoyed by it now.

Changbin tilted his face nearer, his lips just barely grazing over yours. Something about his scent made you feel like you were enchanted.

“Have you been thinking of me as much as I have of you?”

He sucked in a sharp inhale, then sealed your lips with his. He took both sides of your face in his hands, holding on you with such a dire grip it was as if he felt like you would melt into nothing in his hands. Every run of his lips over yours was different from the last; but the way in which he poured himself into it all was the exact same. He used his full weight to push the two of you into the metal shelf, bracing the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt. Changbin pressed his body into you fully, nearly engulfing you with his broad chest. There was nothing else in his kisses besides pure, unadulterated desire.

Four days since he had kissed you. Four days that had felt much longer than four days.

Hesitantly, your hands twitched at your sides, deciding to hold him back. You hadn’t noticed, but his own hands had fallen from your face to cascade down your arms to wrap them around him himself. Under the fabric of his hoodie, you could feel every single curved muscle. Before you could explain it, your fingers traversed all around the expanse, drawing in all the pieces that your brain hadn’t thought to commit to memory. The second that you did, he smiled into your mouth.

“So you have.” His husky tone spilled into your ear after he gently broke from your lips.

Changbin moved to kiss at your pulse at your neck, leaving you to tremble under his fluttering movements. Your teeth bit into your lip as to not produce a sound; your fear of someone walking round the corner only made you more anxious and thrilled. He pulled the collar of your sweater down to increase the pressure of his mouth, drawing little whimpers from your throat.

“Changbin, what are you--”

Before he could do any more damage, he pulled back, putting your collar right back in place. Between the two of you, your exasperated little gasps filled the air. Slowly, he run his thumb over your slightly swollen lips.

“I meant it, I’d like to get to know you more.” He swept your hair back with a couple fingers.

“I was planning on not seeing you again.” You gathered up your will again.

Changbin tsked, “That wasn’t how you kiss someone you don’t want to see again.”

You pulled his hands from off your face. “I should be going. And you should too.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He scoffed with disbelief.

You really were. Just from kissing him, you had felt how inexplicably wet you had become. Every part of your body ached for just a little more, and you could have it. But you wouldn’t let yourself. He didn’t own you.

“Need me to show you to the stairs?”

“No.” He spat out the word. “Don’t walk away from this.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“I thought that I just made myself pretty damn clear.”

“--As did I.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Changbin strode up to you, the little thin chain on his pants swaying.

“Give me your number.” He said in earnest. For once, you saw his confidence falter.

“I said, I don’t plan on seeing you again.”

“--Then I’ll give you mine. You don’t even have to use it and I can’t reach out to you, how’s that?”

“You’re acting like I’ll want to.”

He exhaled out cooly, “Why the hell else would you kiss me like that?”

Why did you kiss him like that?

You reached out from your back pocket to slide out your phone. “Don’t expect anything. I’ll probably just delete it after long.”

He typed in the numbers, then grinned, announcing, “I doubt that.” Once done, he pulled your collar back up just a little bit higher to fix how it had become askew on your frame.

He sighed with finality, toying with his rings once more. “I think that I’ve been lost in here long enough.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

[01:47]

han jisung: are you doing anything right now?

Your pencil clicked down to your desk with a wooden little thunk. The state of your room was a mess; not like he would have cared. Back at your desk, you glanced down at your unfinished sketch and the scattering of watercolor paintbrushes and paints. During the late hours of the night, your brain would get hazy, and your inhibitions would likely smear like the little pools of blue watercolor accidently spilled on your desktop.

Your tired fingers typed out the word “no.”

Outside of your tiny window dusty with age, you could still see a bit of the twinkling of lights on the cityscape. During the night, they looked like a rainbow of stars reflected upon the night’s ocean.

Your tired fingers deleted the word “no”, then opened a new message. For a moment, you hovered over the keyboard.

[01:49] CB

You really were unbelievable.

me: are you doing anything right now?

[clouditae]

First Love | 12

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | alcohol | swearing

Word: 3.8k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

Ari opens the door, tossing her backpack to the floor. You weren’t expecting her to come back so early that when the door loudly creaks from the force of the door opening, you jump in surprise. She looks to you with a triumphant look on her face as she practically yells with the door still closing, “I got an A on my fucking paper!” The door slams shut as she does a weird and awkward dance.

“Good job. I knew you could do it,” you congratulate, saving your work on your computer.

Ari kicks her backpack with no care in the world as to what she has inside. “Let’s celebrate,” she extolls, pulling off her hoodie and tossing it on her bed.

You turn your body to the left where she stands, picking up her backpack and putting it on her bed. “Celebrate?”

“Yeah. It’s Friday, I got a well deserved grade after almost breaking my wrist, and I am in the mood for some good food and a drink or seven.”

“What about Hoseok?” Ever since Hoseok and Ari got together, they’ve been inseparable. You sometimes wonder if you’ll be like that when you get a boyfriend. All couples eventually spend time separately, right? You sometimes feel really disappointed in yourself for not knowing a lot when it comes to relationships.

“He’s staying after class with some of his classmates to study for a test that ends tonight,” she says, disbelief evident in her tone.

“Why hasn’t he taken the test yet?”

“I don’t know? He seemed really nervous about this test, so all he’s done is study like there’s no tomorrow. I hope he takes it soon because the longer he waits, the harder it will be to answer questions as time ticks by.” Ari shakes her head, walking to her closet and opening the door. “Are you going in sweats?” She looks at you through the mirror.

You blink at her. “We’re actually going?”

She scoffs, “Yeah. I wasn’t joking, Y/N.” She pulls out a red spaghetti strap and a black jacket. Removing her shirt, she slips on her top. “I want food and some drinks.”

You sigh, “Can’t we just order takeout and sneak some alcohol in?”

“And get in trouble?”

You stare at her, contemplating if sneaking alcohol is really worth it. Groaning, you get up from your seat. “How far are we going?” You walk to your closet, opening the door to grab your jeans and whatever black shirt you first grab. There is no patience when it comes to picking outfits. You just blindly pick and go and hope it looks nice on you.

“It’s only down the street,” she exclaims, taking a set at her desk to fix her makeup at her little mirror. Changing clothes, you realize you put on a turtleneck. You didn’t know you have this type of shirt in your closet. You’ve seen a lot of professional looks with turtlenecks, but you can’t remember buying this and found no reason to wear it. “That’s a cute look,” Ari suddenly says, her body turned towards you. You watch her get up from her seat, making her way towards you. She unbuttons your pants and pushes the lower half of your shirt in your pants. “You’ll look even cuter like this. Plus you have a nice ass, so show it off.” Your hands unconsciously go to your butt, suddenly feeling self conscious. Ari buttons your pants and tells you, “No one will look. You’ll be sitting the whole time.” She pulls your shirt out just a bit to give it a baggy look. “There. Now your cute ass will get attention, but you’ll just look like you’re not interested and they’ll be sad not to have the opportunity to speak to the gorgeous Y/N.”

Ari just seems to have a way with words.

After a few more minutes of double checking for everything, the two of you leave your dorm and head the usual route towards the front parking lot. As you pass Yoongi and Hoseok’s door Ari yells, “Let’s go get you drunk and a boyfriend, Y/N!”

You place your hand over her mouth. “Why are you yelling?” you whisper, checking behind you to see if anyone heard her.

Ari removes your hand from over her mouth. “I’m showing Yoongi you’re better off without him,” she replies, the two of you walking past the stairwell and into the hallway where the exit to the front is.

“What makes you think Yoongi is even in his room?” The two of you are halfway down the hall when the sound chatter can be heard as you pass a group of doors.

Ari shrugs. “The dude never goes anywhere besides class and his room right?” You don’t know yourself. A majority of the time you spent with him was either in his room or somewhere else that not many people from campus went to. “I want him to know you’re about to get dicked down and he’s missing out on a fine ass girl.”

“I’m about to what?” What does that even mean?

Ari laughs as the two of you exit the building and head down the stairwell. “Not today obviously, but it’s to make him jealous.”

“We don’t even know if he likes me,” you counter, following a group of students walking towards the front gate entrance.

“Opposites attract, Y/N.”

“I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean he’s attracted to me.”

Ari loops her arm through yours. “You never know. He might have a crush on shy, innocent types.”

“Wishful thinking, Ari,” you say, shaking your head as the two of you reach the sidewalk and make your way up towards the bar that sits at the corner. There are a few other students a bit up ahead making their way towards the bar as well, their loud chatter can be heard from where you and Ari walk.

“So, how’s your project coming along? Don’t you have like two weeks left?” The two of you pass a hotel. The neon light hanging on the window to the reception flickers every few seconds. Everything is quiet in that building until you pass the seafood restaurant where you can see a few people laughing from the window. It looks more lively than the hotel.

“It’s going great surprisingly.” You rub your arm for a little more warmth. “I just have to finish my body and conclusion and then sum it a bit more for the poster.”

“Damn. So you’ll have it done earlier than anyone when it comes to projects,” Ari whistles.

“People finish their projects a week or more before the due date,” you say, the two of you are now closer to the bar where you know heat will be.

“People who are smart finish weeks before. The rest of us procrastinate,” she laughs, shaking her head. The bar is now within a few feet when Ari says through chattering teeth, “We’re running. I can’t do this anymore.” You don’t have much of an option as she begins to jog towards the building, dragging you with her. Pushing through the door the smell of nachos and burgers invade your senses, your stomach rumbling in hunger. Ari removes her arm from around yours, pushing you towards the seating area. “Go find us a table. I’ll grab the food and drinks.”

Walking further into the building, you look around for an empty table. The walls where the tables and booths occupy are yellow while the brick wall has the kitchen and cashier against it. You scan the room in search of someone leaving, but to your luck you don’t have to look long until you find an empty booth at the far end of the room. You make your way over as another group of people get up from their table, gathering their backpacks after what looks like studying. You take a seat just as Ari makes her way over holding two bottles.

As Ari takes a seat across from you, she hands you the clear bottle with a green substance inside and says, “Flavored alcohol tastes so much better. Plus you’ll want more.”

Thanking your roommate, you take the glass and take a swig of it. It tastes like apples. “Has Hoseok started his test yet?”

“Yeah. When I last texted him, he was getting ready to start the test. He’s nervous and I told him you said "good luck”. He gave me one of those crying faces.“

"I hope he passes,” you mutter as you bring the rim of the glass to your lips. After another drink you add, “Is he coming here after his test or will he just go back to his room?”

Ari thinks for a moment, opening her mouth to answer when the speaker above says, “Ari, please come to the front. Your order is ready.”

She gets up and makes her way to the counter at the front where your food is waiting. From afar you watch her grab the tray, say a few words to the worker and make her way back to your table. “He’s just going to go back to the dorms. He sounded tired over the phone when we last talked,” she answers, putting the tray down and taking her seat.

On the tray is a plate of a greasy cheeseburger and fries; the other plate has nachos with jalapenos. “You got a burger, too?”

“Yeah. I was just going to get nachos for the both of us because it’s a lot, but I was craving a burger, too.” She shrugs. “We’ll share both and have the night of our lives.” You chuckle, grabbing a chip with a jalapeno barely hanging on by the string of cheese that’s attempting to escape from your mouth.

You grab the plate that holds the burger and fries, pulling it towards you. Picking up the knife that’s placed between the fries and greasy stack, you cut the burger in half, careful to not give one side more than the other. “Midterms are starting in two weeks, do you know if all your classes will have them or just some?” you ask, pushing the plate back to the middle for Ari to reach.

She groans, “All of them are going to have a midterm. One of them is a fucking paper that has to be seven pages long.”

“Seven? Which class is that?” You also wonder when she was given the information about the paper, and how long she originally had to write it. Ari is a big procrastinator. If she can avoid doing work immediately, she will and give herself a few days to work on it with all the stress jumping at her.

She shoves a few fries in her mouth in an aggressive manner. “Modern Asia,” she answers, mouth full of chewed up food. “He gave us this big list of documents we need to pick from and watch. Then we have to write a paper on it and answer the questions he has for them. There are seven documents on six different countries.”

“Which one are you picking?” You grab a few nacho chips, flipping it so that the cheese wraps around and coats the chip more.

“Uzbekistan.” She grabs half of the burger, taking a bite out of the corner. “The People, History, and Culture of Uzbekistan to be more specific. It’s on YouTube so it won’t be a mission to find the video, but a big distraction because it’s on YouTube.” Ari takes another bite, bigger this time, of her burger. “This is really good.” She looks up to you. “Should I buy another one?”

“We haven’t made a dent in the nachos yet. Plus we still have the fries to finish,” you inform, clearly shocked that Ari’s ready for more.

“Take a bite of the damn burger and you’ll know what I mean,” she commands, gesturing to your half that sat on your plate in all its glory.

You roll your eyes, doing as told. You can’t deny that it smells amazing and your mouth waters at the endless possibilities as to what it’ll taste like. When you take that bite, it’s like taking a bite out of heaven. Sure you’re being over dramatic, but you totally understand Ari wanting to buy another one. “I’ll go get one,” you tell her, getting up from your seat and taking your bag with you while Ari laughs.

You get to the back of the small line, opening your bag and pulling out your wallet. “Next in line,” a voice calls from behind the counter. You take a step forward, now being two people behind before you’re called. You have to double check to make sure you brought your money with you. There were a few times when you just leave your money at home and have to go the day without eating when you’re stuck on campus all day. You get lucky sometimes when Ari would bring you your missing items. The worker calls for the next customer to come up.

“Y/N?” You look behind you to see a familiar face. A familiar face with a name you cannot remember. It’s your partner during beer pong. The handsome guy who any person would want to date. He’s easygoing and funny and friendly, and you cannot remember his name.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound lost because his name is not coming to mind. “How are you?”

“Good, good. A friend of mine and I were tired from studying, so we decided to come here for a few drinks and some food.” A voice calls for the next person; the two of you move up. “What about you?”

“My friend got an A on her paper. She wanted to go out and celebrate.”

“That’s awesome! I’d do the same if I were her,” he laughs, his smile actually making your heart race as he runs his fingers through his jet black locks.

“Hey, Hanbin,” a male voice calls, coming up to the line. Hanbin. That’s his name. “There’s no empty tables. You just wanna eat outside or bounce?”

“Really? Ah, man.” You watch as Hanbin looks around the building in hopes of someone leaving their table.

“You can eat with us,” you say before you can even stop yourself from letting the words escape your mouth.

Hanbin and his friend look at you. “Really?” the stranger asks.

You can’t say no. You already messed up, and saying no will only make you look like a jerk. “Yeah.” Good job Y/N.

“We don’t want to impose,” Hanbin tells you, looking a little nervous.

“It’s okay.” Where is all this false confidence coming from? “It’s up to you if you want,” you say, turning around and pointing in the direction you and Ari are sitting. “We’re over there if you want to join.”

“Next in line.”

You turn back around and make your way up to the cashier. You give your order for the second burger you and Ari are about to devour, paying and making your way towards your booth where Ari finishes her half of the burger. “I messed up,” you rush, grabbing your drink and placing it on her side of the table.

“Messed up? What’d you do?” Ari asks, suddenly being pushed further in the booth as you scoot in. “What are you doing?”

“Remember Hanbin? The boy I told you was my partner at the party?” You grab the plates and pull them closer to the two of you.

“Yeah?”

“Well he was standing in line behind me and we had small talk and the next thing I know, I invited him and his friend to sit with us,” you profess in a shaky voice.

“You just invited two guys over?” she asks in an ambivalent tone.

You can see her from the corner of your eye staring at you as you babble, “Yes.”

Her hand moves to her chest. “Has my little Y/N grown up?”

You turn to look at her in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

She laughs, “No. Why would I be?”

“Because you’re dating Hoseok and it’ll look bad if someone saw you chatting with a guy?” Isn’t that how it works? You’ve seen it in movies and it always leads to problems—eventually solved.

“Hoseok trusts me just like I trust him. I’d never cheat on him, and we’re not stopping each other from having opposite sex friends.” She shrugs, looking behind you. “Is that them?”

You turn to look in the direction her eyes are focused on. Hanbin and his friend stand by the soda fountain, getting their drinks. “Yeah. The boy with the green jacket is Hanbin and I don’t know the other guy’s name,” you confess, wondering if it’s rude to not introduce yourself. Then again, he didn’t either.

Ari’s voice is now closer to you as she speaks, “Don’t tell Hoseok but he’s really cute. Why not date him? Tall, fit and handsome? That’s a whole package.” She suddenly gasps, “His package must be—”

You cover her mouth with your hand. “Do not finish that sentence,” you sputter, glancing around to see if anyone heard you. To your luck no one’s paying attention to you and your perverted friend.

Aris swats your hands away. “He’s cute, Y/N. And if he comes over and sits with us, then he’s interested in you, too.”

“Or he’s looking for a seat because there is none,” you counteract, grabbing a nacho and shoving it in your mouth. “Also, I’m not interested in him.”

“Guess we’ll see.” A voice speaks over the speaker, calling your name. “Time to devour a delicious burger.” She slaps her hand on your shoulder, pushing you out of the booth.

Groaning, you get up and make your way to the pick-up counter, telling the person your name and getting your order. “Are you sure it’s okay?” Hanbin asks, suddenly appearing next to you to grab his own order.

You almost jump, gripping the plate tighter. He looks to you unsure if he’s allowed to follow. You can feel your heart racing. This is strange. Ari’s words are just getting to you. “Yeah,” you swallow, looking anywhere but at him. “It’s fine.” You are not growing feelings for him.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I really wanted to eat some chicken strips,” he laughs, his voice sounding smoky.

Oh God you like him.

You, Hanbin and Matthew, he tells you, shaking your hand so enthusiastically, make your way towards your booth. Ari is busy stuffing her face with fries to even notice you three until you set the plate down and take a seat next to her. She looks up, eyes wide and fries sticking out of her mouth. Thankfully she waves rather than talk with her mouth full of food. Matthew gets in first followed by Hanbin.

“Uh.” You glance at Ari who quickly chews on her food. “This is my friend and roommate, Ari.” You point to Matthew. “Ari, this is Matthew and this is Hanbin,” you finish, pointing to the boy in front of you.

“Hello,” Ari starts, once she’s chewed and swallowed her fries, “I’m really hungry, and these fries are good.”

Matthew gasps, “They are.” He turns to Hanbin. “I told you this place has some fucking good food.”

Ari looks to Hanbin as if he offended her. “You’ve never been here before?” He looks at her with a lost expression. He clearly doesn’t know how to respond. To his luck, however, he doesn’t have to as Ari adds, “It’s a good thing you have a friend like Matthew to introduce you to nirvana.”

The brunette haired boy snaps his fingers, pointing to your friend. “Exactly.”

“What’s your major?” Ari asks, grabbing the second plate that has the burger to cut it in half.

“Biomedical sciences,” he answers, taking a bite out of his taco.

“Oh? That sounds interesting. What exactly do you study?” Ari rests her arms on the table, leaning forward. The burger no longer exists to her.

“Just kind of the understanding of biological and chemical systems of the human body. What about you?”

“Linguistics, and Y/N here is a photography major.”

Matthew’s eyes are now on you. “Oh another art type.”

“Art type?” you question, finally taking bites out of your half of the first burger.

“Yeah. Photography creates art; stand-still pieces. There’s art galleries for photography, right?” Matthew glances between you and Ari.

“Yeah, I believe so,” Ari replies, popping a fry into her mouth.

“Plus Hanbin here is also an art type,” he begins, nudging his friend with his elbow, “Film.”

“You’re a film major?” You look to him, completely invested in his stories you want him to tell.

He gives you a shy smile. “Yeah.”

And just like that the rest of the night is a blur. You four eat and definitely drink. Ari and Matthew are drunk while you and Hanbin are buzzed. You mainly have conversations with Hanbin half the time the four of you sit. The two of you talk about film and photography—things you do and try to make your work look better. Eventually Matthew’s girlfriend comes and picks him up. Ari gushes at how cute she is and you have to apologize for how… gushy she is. Matthew’s girlfriend doesn’t seem to mind much as she smiles and walks a drunk Matthew out of the building.

After a while you and Hanbin decide it’s time to head out. Hanbin offers to walk you back to your dorm, and rather than politely decline his offer you say, “Please.”

Now you and Hanbin are chuckling at Ari as she whines about how much she loves Hoseok. Reaching your room you unlock the door for Ari to stumble in and get ready for bed. You keep the door cracked open as you look back at Hanbin.

“Thank you for the walk back.”

He shakes his head. “No problem. With everyone being drunk, you never know who’s trying to start something.”

You smile. “Still, I appreciate it.”

His smile is even bigger as he points to the way you just come from. “So I can head back the way we came?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Guess I should head out. Be sure to give Ari some water and medicine for her headache if she gets one.” You nod. “We should do this again,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Definitely. Goodnight and have a safe drive home,” you say, voice quieter than before.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he mumbles, and it’s so sudden.

An instant that makes your heart race and realization hit as he presses his lips to your forehead, leaving before you can say anything. You touch the spot where his lips met your skin.

You have a crush on him.

[misslilli]

Hope you guys are not too busy with Fictober 😄 thank you, as always, for your amazing feedback!

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 26 - A Pivotal Peppermint Mocha

[ DS ]

He respects my wishes, of course he does, and I don’t see him before or after Thanksgiving break, except for a few glimpses from afar, across the school yard or at the farmer’s market. As time passes, each time I see him, it gets less and less painful and my funk begins to lift. My kids at school breathe a sigh of relief and my friends stop tiptoeing around me. The nights get easier, too, and I manage at least a few hours of shut-eye.

I just got home from school, a little earlier than usual and I can hear the girls chatting and laughing in the kitchen.

“…and then Squirrel rolled her eyes and said: ‘But Felix, that’s impossible, no-one can stuff 100 marshmallows into their mouth, not even your dad!’ I get such a kick out of this kid, he insisted over and over again that Moose could do it and he’ll prove it to her. You should’ve seen the exasperated look on Squirrel’s face!”

What the hell? That conversation is eerily familiar because I’ve just had it this morning at recess. Why the fuck are they referring to us as Moose and Squirrel?

They jump about a mile as I step into the kitchen, guilty looks plastered all over their faces. Sarah, who just told the story, starts to speak first. “Uuuh.. hey D, you’re home early…” My hands on my hips, I give them each a long, hard stare.

“Who. The Fuck. Are Moose and Squirrel?” They share a look I can’t decipher and Holly pulls out a chair.

“You better sit down for this, D.” I do as I’m told and glance around the table, waiting for someone to start explaining what’s going on.

Sarah and Holly both make it clear by silently staring at Alex, the calm one of our group, the one they trust can explain in a way I won’t kick their asses afterwards.

Alex folds her hands in front of her and takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’d like to preface this with stating that everything we did was done with love and because we care about you and your happiness.” ‘Oh goody, I can’t wait to see where this is going…’

“We’ve been talking about Moo- Mulder a lot at our Friday night dinners and we could tell that you liked him. When nothing happened and no-one made the first move, we thought we’d give fate little pushes in the right direction.” I stare at her, starting to panic.

“Oh God, what did you do? Is anyone else in on this thing? Is he in on this whole thing?”

“No, no, no-one knows except for us. And Miss Hannigan, but only because we needed her help with the costumes and we swore her to secrecy.” I snort, you can’t swear the town gossip to secrecy.

“So the Halloween costume was your doing? That we went to the town fair in a couple’s costume?” Alex nods. “What else?”

“Just little things, I swear. Remember when we were at the Farmer’s Market and we all had various errands to run? We saw Felix and Mulder were heading over, so we scattered to give you some alone time.” Which led to our first quasi-semi-let’s not call it a date-date, yes I remember.

“So what’s the Moose and Squirrel business then?”

“Well, since it was all a secret operation, we needed codenames. Sarah came up with a play on the first letters of your last names and we thought it was cute, especially since there’s such a big height difference between these characters too. This was how Operation: Bullwinkle was born. Of course, after the basketball fiasco, we called it off… are you mad, D?” I sit in silence for a while, taking in the things my friends came up with to set Mulder and I up.

They eye me anxiously, trying to gauge my reaction and if they should run for cover right about now.

“No, I’m not mad. It was actually a really clever secret operation and I’m kind of sad it didn’t work out the way we all wanted.” Holly lifts her shoulders, relieved that I understood that they didn’t mean to cause any harm.

“Never say never, D.”

—————

[ FM ]

My mom has taken Felix with her while she’s out grocery shopping, which gives me a good part of the afternoon to leave the house and roam the streets. A good way to clear my head. It’s the first week of December, but New England hasn’t been graced with snow yet, just a misty cold that seeps into your coat and straight through to your bones.

My hands are freezing because I forgot to take my gloves, so when the green logo of the local Starbucks catches my eye, I go in to warm up and get a cup of coffee.

Usually, I avoid this place like the plague, I don’t possess the fast decision making skills required to choose from the 999 combinations, just to have a cup of freakishly overpriced coffee.

I can barely get through the door, the place is jam packed and soon, I can smell why. Peppermint Mocha season starts today. The prospect of standing in line for hours almost makes me turn back, but something stops me from leaving.

Most of the people are holding a cup in their hands gleefully already, so I push my way through the crowd to where the line starts. When I reach it, I find myself dumbly staring at the back of a fiery head of hair, a shade I’d recognize anywhere in the world and in the most crowded places.

Shi-hit, does this break the ‘giving space’ rule? No, I’m just getting a cup of coffee on a cold winter day, no big deal. I don’t even have to talk to her. Yeah right, who am I kidding?

—————

[ DS ]

I’m way too excited about the start of Peppermint Mocha season, so here I am, in a place packed with people, patiently waiting in line to finally get my hands on that glorious to-go cup of Christmas Spirit.

I’m next in line when the person in front of me turns a little too quickly, making me take a step backwards to let them pass, bumping into the person standing behind. I mumble a “I’m sorry!” over my shoulder and freeze when I hear a familiar voice respond with an “Don’t worry about it.”

Counting to ten in my head before I turn my head, I come to face with a grinning Fox Mulder, who adds “Fancy bumping into you here!” His silly pun elicits the first genuine smile I’ve given in weeks.

“Technically, you didn’t bump into me, I bumped into you.”

He grins even wider and nudges my shoulder with his index finger. “There. So, I’m new in town, what’s good here?”

I order my Peppermint Mocha with sweet cream foam and an extra espresso shot while he pretends to gag, he orders his black coffee to my snort and the barista’s comment on what kind of first name ‘Mulder’ is. We move to stand at the end of the counter to wait for our coffees.

“Sometimes, I just want to tell them my name is Bob, just so I don’t have to explain Mulder or Fox to another barista.”

“Don’t ask me how many time’s I’ve been Donna, Danny or Dinara and one time, Daniel. I think they do it on purpose. At least yours is easy to spell, Eff - Oh - Ex.”

“Oh I bet you were a regular hit at the spelling bee, with those mad skills of yours!”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Bob.”

The barista calls out our names, ‘Peppermint Mocha for Daisy, black coffee for Mouldy’ and we reach out to accept our respective cups. Pushing out way to the crowd, we continue our conversation.

“Daisy? That's not even remotely close to my real name… but Mouldy is freaking priceless!” Her giggle at their slip up almost makes it worth it to have a shitty first name.

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the guy with the funny name. I kind of like Daisy, though, it’s a pretty name!”

I’m so happy to see that we turn to head in the same direction, strolling along the crowded sidewalk, sipping our coffee. I have to walk pretty fast to keep up with his long strides.

“It is, yeah! So tell me, Eff- Oh- Ex, how much flak did you have to take way back in the day, when “What does the Fox say?” came out?” I shudder at the memory.

“They didn’t tease me with it. Much. Just a lot of ring-ding-dingalinging. It became a thing in my friend group, whenever they asked me something, they’d add ‘So what does the Fox say?’. It went on a long time and they still do it sometimes, when we get together, just to drive me nuts!”

“I hope for your sake that Felix never discovers that song, he’d have a field day!” Oh God, she’s right. Must keep him away from it at all costs. At my panic face, she laughs an evil laugh. “We do listen to a lot of music at recess…”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t!” I point an icy finger at her. “Promise me you wouldn’t!”

“Well, it does have a lot of educational material in it, with all the animal sounds…”

“I’ll have you know that you hold my sanity in your hands, handle with care!”

“I hear they have a lot of fun pills at the asylum, maybe I’ll come visit so you can sneak me some!”

We come to stand at the junction where we have to part ways and she raises her cup.

“Have a good day, Mouldy!”

“You too, Daisy!”

—————

[ DS ]

I think about the strange but fun encounter all the way home, the world didn’t end like I thought it would when we met again and it was a rather pleasant conversation. Like a conversation between long-time friends, even though friendship is not exactly what I’m looking for here. But it’ll have to do, for now. It’s just nice to talk to him again.

[ererokii]

Infinite || Izuku Midoryia

Izuku Midioryia x Fem! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: insecurities, bit of angst

Word Count: 3194

Synopsis: In a world where soulmates exist, Izuku Midoryia believes that he won’t have one on the day of his 17th birthday.

Taglist (message to be added): @pixxiesdust @shoutodoki @shoutosteakettle @saltie @fryingpanitachi @sugacookiies @kingtamakimurder

➺ Note: This is for the @bnhabookclub​‘s bingo event and Celebrating Deku event! The prompt are Long Kisses and “Did you ever think we would be here? I mean since we were kids, I just..”

Bingo Masterlist

Soulmates were always a thing since the beginning of time. The signs were simple when you were supposed to find your soulmate. You either share the same colored iris of their right eye, or their birth date would be tattooed on your thumb in cursive. Some people got both, while others just had one. 

The signs didn’t come at birth. Some babies were born with grey eyes and wouldn’t get their soulmate’s eye color until they turned 14. It was a celebration when a child finally got their right eye color, matching with their soulmate or not. However, there were cases where someone wouldn’t receive their right eye color until they turned 17. 

Other babies who were born with a birthmark in the shape of a heart on their thumb got their tattoo at the age of 5. It was funny how the two worked. But that’s how the universe wanted it. 

Izuku Midoryia was always a curious child, ever since he learned how to walk. He was always up to meeting anyone with a new face. You happened to fall victim to his ways. Izuku met you when both of you were 4 years old, at a park. You were running around the playground and when he saw you, he practically begged his mom to let him go. With much reluctance, she did. 

Both of you connected rather quickly. When your mothers called for you to leave, both of you clung to each other as you sobbed, begging for another 10 minutes with each other. Seeing their children already so close despite only knowing each other for an hour, the mothers decided to talk amongst themselves as well. 

Inko and your mother got along well. This meant that you and Izuku would be seeing each other a lot more, which both of you were ecstatic about.

Both of you went to the same school. In the younger grades, the teachers would hold a small celebration for any child that received their tattoo. It happened a couple of times. A group of small kids and their teacher surrounding one of the students, a bright glowing light emitting from their thumb. It was something that always fantasized Izuku. He couldn’t wait for his own.

Yet he wasn't born with the heart birthmark. You were born with one. 

That was the only thing you could babble about. How excited you were to find out the date, to find your prince charming as you told him after watching your princess movies. 

“I think today is the day Izu-kun! I feel it!” You spoke with confidence, jutting your thumb in his direction. 

“W-what makes you think that?!” he gasped, his small brain blown away at your confidence.

“I just feel it! Today I’m going to find out about my prince charming!!” You giggled as you curtseyed, acting out the role of the princess. “And we’ll dance and dance!”

“It sounds like you have your whole life planned out! I wish I was able to get one!”

“Silly!” You pointed to his grey eyes. “You’ll get the eye remember?! That’s super-duper cool if you ask me!”

He rubbed his knuckles gently bashfully as he lowered his head.”You really think so?”

“I know so! You’ll probably get a pink! Or maybe purple!”

“Maybe yellow!” Izuku’s little body rattled with laughter alongside you. Both of you were huddled up on the carpeted floor, minding your own business from the other kids who were too busy coloring. 

“Bright!” you gasped and held your hand out, a glowing light emitting from your heart birthmark. “S-Sensei! It’s glowing!”

At the sound of your voice, your teacher and your classmates rushed to you. Izuku scooted closer, watching the heart glow brighter. “Does it hurt Y/N-Chan?” he whispered in astonishment, hand touching your arm. 

You stayed silent as you stared at the scene in front of you, the heart outlined in a gold shimmery light, it’s light blinding but also beautiful. It fully stopped as black ink formed on your hand.

“What does it say?”

You whimpered and lifted your hand up to your teacher’s bent over body. “I don’t know what it says.” You were only five years old and was still learning to read your numbers.

A chuckle left their lips as they grabbed your tiny wrist in their bigger hand, scanning over it. “July 15th!”

Gasps resonated throughout the room.

“That’s my birthday!” Izuku squeaked out as he stared at you.

You cheekily smiled and clapped your hands together. “It is! Maybe it’s you Izu-kun! Maybe you’re my prince charming!”

“You think that?!”

“I don’t know! But will we dance and dance like they do in the fairytales?!”

Izuku absentmindedly nodded as he bowed. “Yes Princess Y/N! We will dance and dance!”

You jutted out your pinkie in his direction, a serious look for a five year old displayed on your face. “You pinkie promise swear Izu-kun?”

He stared at it for a second before sticking his pinkie out as well, wrapping his small one around yours. “I pinkie promise swear Y/N-chan!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“My birthday passed and I still haven’t gotten my color! What if I’m not meant to have a soulmate?”

You scoffed and held the papers close to your chest. “That’s not true Izu! You’re going to! Don’t be so negative. Be like All Might!” You cheered and jumped up, fist raised in the air. 

He shook his head, his green hair moving in the slightest with his motion. “Yeah you’re right. He hasn’t even said anything about his soulmate! Maybe it’s kept a secret!”

You squealed like a little school girl, which you were. “How romantic!! Keeping your lover away from the spotlight! A mysterious type of love! Imagine that!”

“What’s so cute about that? Sounds like a cheap drama to me.”

An offended gasp left your lips as you spun on your heel, stopping right in front of him. “Cheap drama?!” you bent over a bit, placing your hands on your hips, one of your hands holding your papers. “It’s more than that!”

He stumbled back at your sudden movement and gulped. You were close. Close enough where he can smell the faint essence of your shampoo. His eyes were glued to your face. Over the years he definitely saw the changes throughout your body and would even say he found himself attracted to you. 

You’ve grown from the tiny toddler that always wanted to protect him, to a maturing teenager. You also noticed the changes in Izuku’s appearance. You noticed the way his face lost its baby fat and slowly shaped itself over time. Both of your moms loved seeing you walk home together. It was something that warmed both of their children staying friends after many years. They secretly hoped that your soulmates were each other, if only the universe was nice enough to grant their wishes. 

“You listen well!” you snapped with no ill intention, somehow shuffling closer to his now trembling body. “It is romantic to protect your soulmate from the horrors of this world! Imagine just fighting for them! That’s so romantic! In the dramas, their reason for fighting is always their soulmate! If someone fought for me, I would love them forever and ever!” you swooned, clasping your hands to your chest as your fingers gripped around the vest. Your papers were long gone on the floor, your eyes squeezed shut. If they were open, he could have swore he would have seen hearts in your eyes. 

“Okay I get it!” he said quickly, hands in front of his body as he shook them in defense. “If you shut your eyes any tighter you won’t see!”

A groan left your lips as a pout tugged them right after. “I was in my dream world! Always messing with it huh, Izu!” You opened your eyes to stare at him, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy when you saw his shocked expression. 

“What?” you asked, hand reaching up to your face. “Is there something on my face or something?”

His mouth opened but no words came out, only strangled noises and gasps for air. His index finger pointed at his right eye. “Y-Your eye! It’s maroon!”

A scream left your lips as you quickly took out your phone, immediately going on the camera app to stare at your reflection. “I-It’s here! It’s here!” your voice was higher pitched, clearly in shock as you felt the back of your neck heat up. 

You lowered your phone and placed it back in your bag. “Oh my..it’s here” you whispered breathlessly, slowly lifting your head to meet Izuku’s concerned gaze. “D-Do you not like it or something?” he whispered.

Your next action startled him.  A high pitch squeal filled his ears as your hands found themselves on his wrists, squeezing them as you jumped and down, excited. “It’s here Izu!” Your head bobbed up with each jump you did, your smile never faltering as you kept using his body as leverage to jump. 

He felt his heartbreak and fall in the depths of his soul. “I’m so happy for you Y/N! I bet it’s so exciting to finally get it!”

He was truly happy for you, he was. On the inside he was already hurting. He felt like his heart got chopped up and thrown away. You had a soulmate. Someone out there was already made for you. For you to love. For them to cherish and protect you like you wanted. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t hold you. He couldn’t cherish you. He couldn’t protect you like you wanted. You weren’t meant for him.

You stared into his gaze with your new eyes. The iris from your parents matched beautifully with the maroon. If possible, it made your eyes stand out more. “Do they look weird?” you whispered, suddenly self conscious of your new appearance. 

“Course not! I think they look-” he stopped himself, flustering up as he twiddled his thumbs. “Beautiful.”

“Ah..” you rubbed your arm, hand moving up and down slowly, lowering your head at his words. “T-thank you Izu..” you meekly whispered before gasping, reaching out and grabbing him by his forearms. “I have to tell my mom! I’ll catch up with you later?!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Enrolling at UA High School gave Izuku many opportunities. Before enrolling, he met with the Symbol of Peace himself. Gaining his quirk, Izuku worked hard to achieve his goal of entering. Seeing you at the entrance exam made him ecstatic.

That was until he would look into your eyes. Each time he dreaded looking into them. It left a grim reminder that he wasn’t for you. He remembered every moment of that day when you got the color. He remembered crying into his pillow for hours, leaving his mother worried sick. He couldn’t tell you how jealous he felt. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Each kid in his class had their tattoo wrapped around their thumb or mismatched eyes. He often felt left out. He could feel the pity stares sent his way. The hushed whispers of gossipers ringing in his ears. Every time you would comfort him about it, saying it was natural to feel the way he was feeling, he couldn’t feel your comfort. It didn’t feel sincere to him. Nothing did.

He despised his birthday after his 14th. He hated the thought that this coming birthday will be the same as the one before. No trace of his soulmate. He did research. He tried forcing it by thinking of his soulmate. Would spend endless nights begging that the next day a sign would appear. 

There were times where he would come into class, absolutely exhausted as his feet dragged behind him, his shoulders slouched forward, his green and grey eyes bloodshot. It worried you to no end. You often spent nights in his dorm, comforting him. He would break down into your arms, repeating the words that no one would love him. That no one was made for him. 

When you got your signs you were over the top. You ranted and bragged about how amazing your soulmate was without even knowing them. You already knew it. Deep down you could feel their presence. It was an amazing feeling. A spark exploding inside of you that had to be let out soon. You heard stories of people finding their soulmates. How time seemed to stop leaving the two of them to drown in each other’s presence. You wanted it. 

Izuku’s birthday was today. His 17th to be exact. He was holding onto the small string of hope. You hoped that this would be different. He was at the age limit where he should have gotten the sign. You didn’t want this birthday to end with him crying again. You wanted him to be happy. He deserved it. 

It was a sunny afternoon. Izuku and you walked in silence to a park—the park where both of you had first met. A small humming came from his end, a small bounce in his step as the both of you continued to follow the cement path to a nearby bench. 

He would say it was an average morning. Despite the fact that you and Ochako decided to wake him up by singing him happy birthday and practically forcing him out of bed while he was still half asleep. He got greeted by all of his classmates, even Eri said happy birthday to which brought a big smile on his face. 

All Might came down and spoke a few words to his successor. Even Aizawa, which surprised the whole class. 

“Soo..” you spoke up, hands clasped behind your back. “Did your mom call?”

He nodded and looked up at the sky, red tresses adorning the blue sky. “She did. She was the first one to call me this morning”

“I’m surprised she didn’t stop by. I mean after all, I’m sure she could have gotten a free pass or something” 

“Yeah” he mumbled, eyes averted downwards. Something was on his mind. 

“Hey, why am I getting the feeling that you aren’t okay?”

A shrug of his shoulders made him lift his head to meet your gaze. “I’m alright. Just thinking.”

“Whatcha thinking about, Izu?”

“The normal is all.”

“Oh” was all you said as you lowered your head, regretting that you even asked him. 

His elbow gently jabbed into your side. “Don’t look so down.” A gentle smile appeared on his lips, motioning to the park bench with his head. “I still got time.” 

“Yeah you’re right about that.” you followed his footsteps from behind, placing yourself down on the wooden bench. 

A comfortable silence overcame the both of you. You leaned forward, resting your hands on your knees. “It’s been a long time hasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Did you ever think we would be here? I mean since we were kids, I just… When I was younger I didn’t think we would be here if I’m being honest. I thought we were just going to have playdates till we drifted off once we entered high school.” 

Izuku turned his body to face you, concern evident on his face as his grey and green eyes glossed with tears. “You thought that?”

You nodded slowly as you pointed a finger towards the playground. “Do you remember? You came up to me with that bright smile of yours, asking me if we could play together. I remember we played superheroes, played on swings, and went down the slide so many times.”

A wave of nostalgia hit his body as he relaxed, leaning into the wood of the bench. “Yeah, I remember that. t’s funny how simpler times were back then huh? Not have to worry about grades, quirk sometimes, and...” he got quiet as his leg bounced up and down. “And soulmates”

“You seem to be stressing about your soulmate a lot. Izu it’ll happen. I promise. I mean you are technically of age now.”

“Yeah but what if it doesn’t happen?” he whispered, clenching the iron bar of the armrest, a small spark of his quirk emitting from his body. “What if I’m not meant for anyone? What if I’m one of those sad cases that will never ever find someone? Those pity stares keep me up at night! Everyone always talks about me like I’m not there!”

A small sob left his lips as a hand covered his eyes, shielding the small sense of dignity he had left. 

“Izu,” you whispered breathlessly, reaching out to touch him. Your fingertips touched the top of his shoulder, his body jerking away. 

“No! I don’t want you to feel bad for me! I like you! I like you so much but I’m not for you! You aren’t for me! I cry every day because you’re the one I want yet I can’t have you!”

Your vision grew blurry as you desperately rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand to conceal your tears. “You dummy..you can’t just say stuff like that!”

He sniffled as he looked over at you. “And why is that?”

You felt your heart stop. A funny feeling running through your veins. Butterflies appeared in the pit of your stomach. “Izu...” you whispered and suddenly cradled his face, your thumbs rubbing the swell of his tinted cheeks. “You- your eye.” 

His eyes widened drastically and he immediately shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Turning on the camera he faced it toward him as he choked on air. Green and maroon eyes. “It’s maroon,” he whispered and lowered his phone onto his lap. 

You let out a shaky breath and reached for his hand. A spark of electricity ran through your veins at the touch. His presence was clear as ever. His touch was real. It was like you were able to see clearly now. 

This was the moment everyone spoke of. The warmth of their partner touching them for the first time. The newfound wave of love exploding throughout both bodies. 

“I can’t believe it.” His eyes wandered to your hands enclosing his, focusing on his birthday tattooed on your thumb. The word and numbers adorning it. 

“Neither can I,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently. 

“There are an infinite amount of soulmates you could have had...yet you got me.”

A small smile tugged your lips as you stroked the side of his face with your knuckle. “There may be infinite amounts but I wouldn’t dream of being theirs. I only want you, Izu.”

He stood up abruptly as he held his hand out. “Well Princess, are you ready to dance and dance?”

A laugh left your lips. The moment when you were both small as you made a promise to each other replayed through your head. You could have swore you imagined a smaller version of the both of you, dancing and running around the playground behind him. A sign that everything will be alright. 

You placed your smaller hand in his, using him as leverage to stand up. 

“I’m ready to dance and dance with you until the end of time, my Prince.” 

[aremiies]

DRUMMER BOY.

pairings: drummer!bakugou x fem!reader

warnings: a bit of swearing, fluff and bad writing, band!au

prompt(s): it’s a song prompt (v cheesy ik) the song is misery business by paramore.

part two.

not my gif !

—

“guys!” yelled a certain pink haired girl, as she chaotically ran into the stores back room to alert her friends of the newly aquired news she may or may not have learned two minutes prior. her friends, all on their lunch break, stopped what they were doing to look up to the girl who was practically jumping out of her skin.

“are you okay, mina? is there a reason you almost broke a rib trying to get through the door frame?” jirou raised a brow, looking up from her phone to entertain mina’s obvious excitement. mina squealed, trying to somewhat contain herself.

“can you get to the point already, dumbass?!” bakugou growled.

“yeah, mina,” kirishima added, “what’s got you so jumpy?”

mina sighed, somewhat dramatically, before she (finally) told her friends what she was so happy about, “so, guys, remember how we wanted to play a show at that lounge a couple blocks over?” her friends nodded before she continued, “they finally called back! the manager said it’s a yes!”

“no way.” jirou stood up.

“that’s great!” kaminari spoke up.

“yeah, no kidding! they approved of the songs?” kirishima inquired.

mina nodded, “yeah! i sent them them the lyrics to a couple of our songs, and they said that they didn’t mind which ones we played, but they’d really like if we played misery business. they’re even gonna pay us!”

“wait... isn’t that the song that you and jirou couldn’t get the vocals right to?” kaminari puzzled.

it went quiet for a second before bakugou groaned, “oh look, the pink freak didn’t think before she acted! what a surprise.”

“hey! don’t blame me i th-“

mina was cut off by bakugou’s thunderous yelling, “don’t blame you?! who else are we gonna blame?! you’re the one who sent in the request form!”

“guys, calm down,” kirishima laughed nervously, “i’m sure it’ll be fine. we could just change the chords of the song to compliment jirou’s vocal range.”

kaminari cut in, “or... no offense, maybe we could find somebody else with that vocal range to sing it for her. jirou already plays bass— oh! what about sero? we could ask him if he could-“

“no, dumbass, sero said he didn’t wanna be apart of the band anymore, remember?” bakugou grumbled.

before the group could think of anymore solutions, the bell on the front counter rang, followed by a voice calling out a to someone who could potentially help them checkout, “um... hello? is anyone back there?”

jirou sighed as she got up from the black leather couch that complimented the break room, “i’ll go help them. break is over anyways.” as jirou emerged from the back room, her eyes widened slightly as she spotted you holding a red, six stringed electric bass guitar. well, five strings actually, since it seemed that there was one missing.

“hi! sorry to keep you waiting, how can i help you today?” jirou smiled, walking behind the counter and taking in your features. you seemed like a shy type of girl... even if you weren’t, just by looking at you, she wouldn’t have suspected that you played electric guitar. your eyes looked so soft and your hands so delicate as they wrapped around the neck of the guitar. your clothes as well. as much as she didn’t want to stereotype, the clothes that adorned your body didn’t give in to the ‘edgy guitarist’ aesthetic that the guitar itself did. besides all that, she couldn’t help but to feel you looked oddly familiar.

“yeah actually, haha. i saw on the sign outside that you guys do string repairs? my ‘a’ string snapped a couple days ago..” you explained to the raven haired girl behind the counter.

jirou nodded, “yeah, of course! we’re actually having a sale right now, so if you’d like to get all you string replaced, it’d only cost $10.”

“oh? hell yeah, thanks. i’ve never taken myself to get my strings repaired, though... does it take long? should i leave and come back?” you trailed off.

she shook her head, “nah, all these should only take about ten minutes max.”

—

“so, what’s your name?” jirou made easy conversation as she began repairing your strings.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you... jirou?” you read her name tag.

she let out a small chuckle and nodded, “you as well. so, you in a band or something?”

“oh! no, i’ve thought about starting one before, but i don’t really have anyone to do so with. i write songs and play them on haru.” you explained.

“haru?”

“yeah, that’s her name.”

jirou chuckled once more, “you named your bass?”

“uh— duh.” you playfully rolled your eyes before another figure stepped from the back room, catching your attention.

“oh.” muttered the blonde.

jirou turned to look behind her, “oh, hey bakugou. is there anything you needed?”

the boy ignored her and walked towards the counter, “you play bass?” he asked you. crimson eyes boring into your y/e/c ones.

“y-yes. not a lot... just here and there when i think it’ll compliment one of my songs.” you verified.

“you write songs?” bakugou questioned.

“only when i’m bored-“

“what kind of songs are th-“

“katsuki! stop questioning her, this isn’t a police interrogation!” jirou interjected.

“what! don’t we need another person to sing that song? i’m trying to look for options.” he shrugged.

you furrowed your brows, “you guys are a band?”

“yeah, there’s more of us. they’re in the break room though.” jirou shared. “it’s just... okay, we have this ‘gig’ soon, and one of our members entered us in under a song that we can’t seem to get right. and it’s just our luck that, that’s the song the managers would likes us to sing especially.”

you tilted your head leaning on the counter as she spoke. as you did so, bakugou studied your features— just as jirou had done minutes before. he found you interesting. just as jirou had thought, he also didn’t see you as the type to play the electric guitar out of all the different types available.

“you don’t look like the type to play.” he blurted out.

“katsuki-!” jirou sighed.

“what?! she doesn’t. she’s so... average looking.” he reckoned.

your face dropped immediately and you turned to look at him, “excuse me? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s not a bad thing,” he began, “i’m just saying that you don’t look like the other people who come in her with these types of guitars.”

you subtly rolled your eyes before looking back to jirou, “so, what lounge are you supposed to be playing at?”

“the one a few blocks from here. it’s called ‘rolling red’ i believe.” she replied.

“oh! i’ve played there before!”

the two employees looked at you with furrowed brows, “you have?!”

the sudden realization crashed on top of jirou as soon as the words left her mouth, “that’s where i know you from! i’ve seen you play before! you played that cover of frances forever by mitski! i loved it, i thought about it for days after!”

you looked down at your feet as you felt your cheeks heat up, “th-thank you. i didn’t think it was that good..”

“well it was-! dude, you should totally sing for our band when we play our gig!” the usually laid back girl was brimming with happiness at the thought of finding their replacement singer on such short notice.

“i-i don’t know-“

before you could finish, you felt someone wrap their arms around your shoulders, “oh come on! you’d be great! your voice would sound great with the songs we have picked out!” you spot the pink toned arms around you and turn around.

“where did she come from?” you mumbled.

“so, what do you say? it’ll only be a one time thing.” jirou smiled hopefully.

you sighed and looked at the (now three) employees in front of you, “okay— w-wait. when is the gig anyways?”

“two weeks away.” the pink girl giggled.

“well... i guess it wouldn’t hurt.” you shrugged.

“really?! thank you!” mina engulfed you in a hug.

“yeah, don’t mention it.” you smiled.

jirou grinned and handed you your guitar, “meet us back here tomorrow. we can start our first official practice.”

you nodded, grabbing your wallet beginning to pay for the string repair before a hand fell over yours, “don’t bother. you agreeing to do this for us is payment enough... i- i guess.” bakugou hesitantly ensured.

you thanked the employees before exiting the store with a grin adorning your face. you barely knew these people, but you couldn’t help but to be the least bit excited.

—

“so, do you get it?” mina asked as she helped you understand the chords to the song.

you tilted your head in slight confusion, “uh... i think so? i’ve just never played so... aggressively? no offense.”

it was the next day and you were currently in one of the practice rooms in the back of the music store. you’d formally met everyone and it seemed that the rest of the band were cool with having you as their replacement singer. kirishima and kaminari thought you were pretty nice. bakugou said you were “pretty cool... i guess.”, but it was obvious that jirou and mina adored you the most. you weren’t too shy, you just weren’t rowdy. you weren’t too quiet, you just only spoke when spoken to out of fear of being too a annoying for the band.

“okay, let’s try again then?” jirou smiled and you nodded, placing your fingers on the strings and praying you didn’t mess up again. though it was your first time hearing the song and learning the chords, you were doing fairly well. you knew the chords and how to play them, it was just the aggressiveness in which you were supposed to play that you were screwing up on.

you sighed as you heard bakugou give the infamous drummer count off, and began to play. you weren’t using a pick, so you felt the tips of your thumb and index began to beat up as you strummed the strings quickly and found the tempo. you counted the amount of times you’d screw up by the end. the total being only seven. not bad for a four minute song.

“that wasn’t bad, y/n!” you heard kaminari compliment you.

“yeah, you did a lot better this time! it’s like you’ve already memorized everything and we’ve only been practicing for about three hours.” mina added.

you smiled at the two, “thanks, guys. really. i tried to relax more this time, so i only messed up... seven times. i think.”

“you counted?” jirou asked as she took a sip of her water.

“yeah, the last time we did it, i messed up nine times, but i found out what it was i was doing wrong and fixed it, now i only have seven more errors to correct.” you explained.

“well look at you go! at this rate, we’ll be practicing with the lyrics by this evening.” mina praised.

unlike the other four, bakugou didn’t say anything about how well you were doing. he couldn’t really bring himself to say anything to you. it wasn’t like he was embarrassed or anything; more like he was nervous to. the whole time you’d all been practicing he’d been watching your facial expressions change as you played he chords on your guitar. he could tell that you were feeling it, and that made him feel something.

—

“i’m in the business of misery, let’s take it from the top. she’s got a body like an hourglass, it’s ticking like a clock.” you mumbled the lyrics to the song as you shadow played the chords. you were liking the song so far. it wasn’t something you usually played and you liked that. you sat in the corner of the practice room as everyone took their break. either going to use the bathroom or just walking around the shop to stretch their legs. you decided on staying back and practicing the lyrics on your own before you did in front of everyone else. the thought of embarrassing yourself loomed in the back of your mind and you were absolutely terrified of it. you didn’t care if it was a rehearsal or not. embarrassing yourself was, simply, not an option.

“you sound nice.” and deeper voice spoke.

startled, you looked up from the notepad of lyrics in front of you and up to the door where, there stood bakugou; hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe.

“o-oh. thank you...” you muttered.

“i think i know where you keep messing up at on the chords.” he quipped.

“you do? but how? you play drums.”

he scoffed light heartedly, “just because i play drums doesn’t mean i’m oblivious to the workings and notes of other instruments.”

“oh...” you voiced, looking at the floor below you.

“here, let me see it.”

“see what?”

“your guitar, dumbass. i’m going to help you.”

you handed the boy your guitar and followed his figure with your eyes as he sat down next to you.

“after the third eight-count, your finger placement is off. i can hear it.” he stated as he began placing his finger on the strings.

“oh no... it was that obvious?” you whined burying your face in your hands. so much for embarrassment not being an option.

“stop whining, dumbass. it’s not that bad, but you can still tell that there’s something off.” he expressed, “now look, you have the right idea. but the wrong action. it’s not much, just move your finger up the neck a bit more.” bakugou strummed the note and looked back up at you, “like that. now you try.” he instructed handing you the guitar.

“okay...” copying the boys previous actions, you place your fingers on the strings. sliding your middle finger up the neck a bit, just as he’d instructed. you stunned the note and looked at him for approval.

“perf— good.” bakugou complimented hesitantly.

“mhm... thank you.” you have him a slight smile.

he nodded as he got up and headed towards the door, “if you want... i can start helping you with things like this privately. like... like we did just now. if you want, though. i don’t really care. just a suggestion.”

you nodded vigorously, “yes please. i like the way you teach.”

“o-oh... okay... well just give me your number and i can text you when we leave. or we can stay after.” bakugou suggested. the crimson eyed boy was slightly taken aback. he didn’t really expect you to say yes to him “tutoring” you. not like he was complaining though, he actually may or may not have enjoyed your company.

“can we stay after?” you asked.

he shrugged, “if that’s what you’d like.”

—

“bye guys! bakugou, remember to lock up.” kirishima waved as he and the rest of the group made their separate ways home. as for you and bakugou? you two had some after hours lessons to attend to.

the two of you made your ways back to the practice rooms.

upon entering, bakugou closed the door and turned to you, “do you want to start where we left off?”

you nodded, “yeah. after the third eight-count.”

bakugou sat down in the corner from earlier and patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit next to him. you complied and sat next to the blonde handing him your guitar.

“the part after the one we practiced earlier... the part where theres singing and then there’s just instrumental? can we work on that part?” you pleaded.

bakugou felt his cheeks heat up as he looked at you so find your eyes staring back into his. there was something about your eyes that made him feel warm. the feeling that your gaze gave him made him feel safe, “y- sure. okay it for me and we can start from there.”

—

it was about 8pm when the two of you decided that you’d practiced enough for the day. you helped him clean up around she shop before locking up and walking you home.

“you don’t have to, you know.” you expressed to him.

“it’s the right thing to do. i’m not just gonna let you walk home alone in the dark, dumbass.” he replied looking straight ahead.

it was quiet after that, until you walked past a convenience store, “i’m gonna go in to get something. i haven’t eaten since breakfast and i’m starving.” you let out a breathy laugh as you turned to walk in.

“eh?! dumbass, you need to eat properly. come on, i’ll but you some dinner. you don’t need to eat from a convenience store.” bakugou reprimanded. “follow me.” the two of you took a detour to a restaurant not too far away from where you guys were currently at.

“you don’t have to do this. i’m fine with getting something quick and cheap—“

“no,” he cut you off, “you need to eat properly. we won’t be long.”

—

onigiri in hand, the two of you continued your walk home in a comfortable silence as the two of you ate.

“thank you,” you said looking up at him.

bakugou glanced down at you before looking back up, “yeah, no problem.”

“we can stop here, my house is only around the corner. i’ll be fine on my own for now.”

bakugou nodded slightly, “yeah uh... sure. make sure to come to the shop tomorrow.”

you looked at the blonde in slight confusion, “huh? it’s closed tomorrow, is it not?”

“yeah,” he began, “but we still have to work through some of your screw ups. meet me there no later than noon.” he stated before walking away.

you silently agreed before turning away and walking the remainder of the way to your house alone.

—

“y/n, it’s been a bit more than a week since we’ve started these practices and you still don’t have that note down!” bakugou snapped. you two had been practcing with each other for a bit of a while now, and during that time you’ve gotten a bit more comfortable with each other.

“you idiot, i’m trying! you have to understand that i’m not used to singing notes on that octave.” you said rubbing your temples.

“okay, we’ll get used to it! you have two more days to get it right.” katsuki grumbled. “if you don’t, you’re going to embarrass yourself, dumbass.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, though, he was right. the note you were trying to hit wasn’t that hard. you could do it— you knew you could.

“you guys alright in here?”

you looked up to find mina at the door, peaking her head in from the outside.

“what the hell? i thought your alien ass went home.” bakugou stated.

“i could say the same about you guys. i went home and realized i forgot my charger, but you both should go home. it’s nearly ten pm. get some rest.” mina noted.

“ten pm?!” you exclaimed, quickly jumping up.

“holy shit!” bakugou chimed in grabbing his things.

the two of you exited the practice rooms and made your way to the front of the store. as you began to exit, the boy was quick to stop you, “h-hey—! don’t be so quick to leave. i still have to walk you home, y’know.”

you let go of the door and looked back at the male, “well come on then.”

the two of you waved goodbye to mina before taking the oath to your house. upon arriving, you felt bakugou’s hand ok your shoulder, “we won’t be able to practice tomorrow, we all have things to do, so make sure you work on that note, dumbass. we don’t need you screwing up.”

you nodded before walking to your door, “goodnight, bakugou.”

—

the day of the gig was finally here and though you told katsuki that’s you’d practice, you never did. that being said, you still hadn’t attempted to hit that high note. it was too late, though. you were now sitting backstage waiting for your guys’ turn.

“i’m nervous..” mina admitted as she paced back and forth.

“why?” jirou raised a brow in confusion, “we’ve practiced a lot these past few days. we’ve got this in the bag. if y/n worked out the thing with her high note, we shouldn’t be worried about anything. let’s just pretend this is another rehearsal.” the girl smiled.

the mentioning of your high high note mad your stomach churn. you hadn’t told them you didn’t practice in fear of coming off as irresponsible.

“yeah, we’ve been sounding really good! we got this, guys. besides, we’re up next so you’d probably want to try and calm down.” kaminari tried to somewhat comfort the pink skinned girl.

meanwhile, you were chewing your nails down to the cuticle. all of your practicing had led up to this moment and bakugou could tell you were nervous. he watched as your leg bounced up and down and you spit out the pieces of nail you’d bite off.

“hey, dumba— er... y/n,” bakugou prattled, walking over to and placing a hand on your shoulder, “calm down, yeah? you’re gonna do fine. i-... i believe in your dumbass... i-i guess.” he trailed off.

your soft eyes looked into his narrowed ones, your face softening at his comforting (?) words. you nodded, and as if on cue, the six of you were called onto stage.

—

this was it. this was what you’d practiced for. you looked out into the ‘crowd’; there were a lot of people for this just being a bar and lounge. maybe because it was a saturday? or, maybe you were just seeing blurry. whatever it was, you didn’t have time to worry about it as the sound of bakugou’s infamous drummer count off filled your ears.

you took a deep breath, one last chance to calm your nerves before you started to strum the notes on your guitar.

you counted off the final eighth of the instrumental and began to sing, “i’m in the business of misery, let’s take it from the top. she’s got a body like an hour glass it’s tickin like clock. it’s a matter of time before we all run out, when i thought he was mine, she grabbed him by the mouth,”

you have a jirou a look out the corner of your eye and was met with her approving, close-lipped smile. looking over to mina, you were meg with the same smile, only wider and toothier.

you took that as a sign and pulled yourself together, hands still sweaty from your nerves being a wreck, “i waited eight long months, she finally set him free. i told him i can’t lie, he was the only one for me. two weeks and we had caught on fire, she’s got it out for me, but i wear the biggest smile,”

so far, so good. you hadn’t had a voice crack (yet), and as the song went on you could feel your anxiety washing away. the song continued and it seemed the crowd was enjoying it quite a lot. you liked seeing the smiles on their faces, it made you happy. though, your smile quickly faded when you realized what part was coming. the part you took upon yourself to not practice for. your mind started to race; the note isn’t that hard to hit. you’ve hit notes like this before— that was a lie. but, hey, you’ve hit notes close to it before ! soon, there was no more time for you to think about it. it was now or never, and it wasn’t like you could just skip the part all together.

without a second thought, you scraped together the little courage you find in yourself and sang, “but god, does it feel so good. cause i’ve got ‘em where i want him now. and if you could, then you know you would, cause god, it just feels so... it just feels so good.”

your eyes widened as the final lyrics left your mouth. you did it— who are you kidding, of course you did. you knew you had it in you. and with that, the crowd cheered. you let go of the microphone stand that you didn’t even remember grabbing hold of, and smiled. in a matter of second you felt arms around you.

“you did amazing, y/n!” jirou congratulated.

“you sounded great!” mina added with a wide grin.

you smiled and hugged the two girls back, “thanks guys...”

—

the six of you eventaully made your ways back to backstage.

“did you guys see how everyone applauded?! they loved us out there!” kaminari grinned. the rest of you nodded, giving each other compliments on how well they played. you looked over to find bakugou looking at you. you smiled, walking over to sit next to him.

“you... you did good, dumbass,” he gave you a subtle smile, “if i’m being honest, i didn’t think you were gonna do it.”

you chuckled a bit before looking up at him, “would you believe me if i said i didn’t either?”

the blonde shook his head, “hell no. you let go of your bass and everything. you knew you were gonna hit it. there was too much confidence in your movements to say otherwise.”

“thank you.” you said after a few moments of silence between you two.

“yeah, whatever.”

“no, seriously,” you said putting a hand on his shoulder. he felt his cheeks heat up as he looked into your eyes. they had the same sincere look the always did, “you’re a great teacher. and i could tell you genuinely believed in me. that made it easier to preform.”

bakugou was silent for a second, “yeah. anytime..”

you engulfed the boy into a hug before you began towards the rest of the band.

“oh uh, y/n?”

you turned around, “hm?”

“you should consider joining the band... we could use you here. and you’re... cool to hand around. i-i guess, i uh... like having you around and you’re talented or whatever... so yeah.”

you smiled, “are you sure you just don’t want to keep me around a bit longer for your own sake?” you teased.

“wh-what?! hell no, dumbass. you’re delusional.” bakugou retorted.

“mhm, whatever. in any case, i’ll think about it, cutie.”

—

idk of i want to leave this open ended, or make a second part- lmk? :) anyways, hope you enjoyed !

[nyctophilin]

Stay Winning

@txtmoalove​⤀ Hey! As for my first request here , can I request a Felix smut? Something that'll include voice kink for his deep voice? 🥺 Maybe even an enemies to lover's au! I hope it's not too much !! 💕

Description⤀  He was always making remarks about her and making fun of her work. He was speculating about how her work was always chosen as the best and was creating rumors. She despised him. Or did she?

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing⤀ Felix x fem!Reader

Word count⤀ 3k

Genre⤀ Office!AU, Enemies to lovers, Smut, Angst(?)

Warnings⤀ dom!felix, grinding, fingering, spanking, unprotected penetration, spelling/grammar mistakes 

Pearl Note⤀ This was so fun to write. I really hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think!

      “This concludes our meeting today. I’ll see everyone again on Wednesday at the same hour. Mrs L/N and Mr Lee I want you both to present your ideas and we will see which we can choose or if we have to combine them. Have a good day everyone!” Mr Bang spoke as he got up from his chair and left the room to go to his next meeting. Everyone else started gathering their things right after the CEO left and a general bustle settled in the room. Disturbing screeching sounds were made by the pushed chairs of the people who hurriedly wanted to reach either the cafeteria or their cubicles to get some more work done.

      Y/N wasn’t in a hurry like everyone else. She gathered her things calmly and was the last to leave the meeting room carelessly making her way towards her cubicle to leave the unnecessary things there before going for lunch. The clicking of her hills could be heard every time she stepped on the marble floors. Upon reaching her destination she left everything on the desk and took her purse with her.

      She walked up to another cubicle and used her knuckles to knock on the plastic walls. The raven-haired man lifted his eyes from the manuscript he was currently trying to check and a smile coated his facial features at the sight of her. “Can I steal you from your work for half an hour so we can eat? I’m paying.” She brought her purse to the same level as her face as further reassurance to the man that she meant what she said.

      “I thought you’ll never ask. I was starving there!” The man got up from his chair abandoning his files on the desk and put one arm around her shoulders. “Lead the way, Ma’am!” Y/N chuckled at his childish gesture and they both started walking towards the cafeteria. “How did the meeting go?” The man asked when they sat down at a table in the busy room.

      “It went well. Mr Kang is really excited to work with us and he thinks that everything will turn out great.” She hummed satisfied after taking a bite from her food. She will always be grateful to Mr Bang for choosing to actually give a shit about his employee’s health. Immediately after a bittersweet taste let itself in her mouth. “I have to work against Felix for marketing though. Mr Bang said he’ll choose whichever he likes best so I have to work hard to beat that loser.” She was squeezing the chopsticks in her hand at the thought of him.

      “Why does it matter that much? It’s not like there are infinite ways to market a book and Mr Bang seems to be fond of your work. If he wins once what is so bad about that?” Y/N sighed at her friend’s naive statement.

      “Jeongin, let’s say you are in a really good soccer team and you always win. Would you let the other team win once just because you did so many times before? If I purposely don’t do a good job right now, Mr Bang might think that my skills are not as good anymore which might result in me getting fewer opportunities to work on books that I really like. Plus that little shit is always trying to pick a fight with me.” She rolled her eyes when she remembered the kind of treatment she gets from her superior.

      “You always say that. What does he even say that get you so worked up all the time?” Jeongin’s question was a genuine one. He has worked at the publishing company for over two years now and ever since Y/N has started working there a year and a half ago he can’t remember one time when the two weren’t at each other’s throats. At first, he thought the rivalry between the two was because they both had the same job and it was normal for them to want they work to get chosen but then he realised that it was more than that.

      “He always looks down on me and thinks that just because he is older and has been working there longer his ideas should be chosen more often. ‘Even a kindergarten student could think of that.’, ‘He chose you just as an encouragement.’, ‘Maybe if I also had a short skirt Mr Bang would choose me as well.’...”

      “Don’t forget about the cleavage.” A deep voice suddenly ringed in her ear making her jump in surprise. She immediately turned her head in that direction and her nose was only one centimetre away from Felix’s nose.

      “What?” This is all she could say since she was still shaken by his deep voice in her ear.

      Felix got up from his bent position and a smirk tugged at his lips when he realised the effect his sudden appearance had on her. “I also say about the cleavage. I’m pretty sure that if I had boobs I’ll get just as many deals as you.” His eyes travelled from her face down to where her shirt had the first two buttons undone. He visibly licked his lips at the sight before looking back at her eyes and winking.

      His eyes made her uncomfortable but she stood her ground and rolled her eyes back at his gesture. “Oh sweety, it’s so funny that this is what you tell yourself to feel better about your failure. We both know that Mr Bang doesn’t do this kind of thing. And unlike you, he does not need to get on my good side. I’d fuck him even if he was choosing your work.” A fake smile was painting her lips as she finished talking. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish eating so I can go back to making a better marketing strategy than yours.” She turned back towards Jeongin and continued eating her food.

      As she heard his steps getting farther away from her she let out a breath she was holding in for a long time. She hated the way his voice affected her. He might be an asshole but damn he had a nice voice. She ignored the moist feeling that started forming between her legs and continued talking with Jeongin about different topics the rest of their lunch break.

      Y/N let out a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck trying to ease the pain she was feeling. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to calm the burning sensation from looking at the computer screen for too long. It was currently 11:36 PM on a Tuesday and she was still in the office. For the last couple of days, she didn’t have enough inspiration to work on a marketing strategy for Mr Kang’s book that would satisfy her so she just did something lousy in order not to show up with nothing. An hour prior, however, she got a really good idea and she had to stay over program to do it.

      She was pretty sure there wasn’t anyone else in the office with her at that hour and if there was they were far away from her and awfully quiet. She stretched her tired arms moaning at the pleasurable sensation of tension leaving her body after a long time. She leaned back on her leather chair deciding to take a short break from work for a few minutes. She kicked her stiletto’s off her feet letting another moan leave her lips at the free sensation. She really hated hills for always making her uncomfortable and hurting her feet.

      She closed her eyes and started humming a calming melody while trying to relax both her brain and her body. “I see that you are enjoying yourself.” The same deep voice that annoyed and turned her on so much was heard in the room and she opened her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

      “What are you doing here?” She questioned him as she turned her chair towards the door of her cubicle.

      “I heard you moaning and I told myself that it is impossible for sweet perfect Y/N to be masturbating on the job. The second time I had to come check it myself.” Y/N rolled her eyes and looked to the side sucking her cheeks in. She absolutely despised the way his voice could soak her and his words could make her want to stab him with a pencil.

      “Are you serious right now? That’s low even for you.” She was so done with his bullshit.

      “You are right. It would have been more logic to think that you were in here with Mr Bang. I doubt he would take you to his house.” She rolled her eyes at his words before getting up abruptly.

      “You know that you are really pathetic? Just because someone else took something YOU think you deserve that doesn’t mean they did something unethical to obtain it. I don’t care what you think about me as a person but. Don’t. Insult. My. Work!” She was now right in front of him and she pushed her index finger against his chest when she said the last few words. “You are 23 years old and you behave like a pre-teen. Making comments about my work and the way I talk and my clothes. Do my clothes bother you in any way?”

      Y/N lets out a yelp as Felix picks her up and carries her to her desk and harshly puts her down, definitely making some of the papers on it to wrinkle. He leaves a trail of kisses from her jaw to her ear before speaking. “Do your clothes bother me? They sure as hell do, darling! How do you think I feel every time I see your thigh ass in one of your pencil skirts or when you have your boobs out for everyone to see?” His deep voice was vibrating in her ear making an involuntary moan leave her mouth. Her private parts already started becoming wet and that was just from a few words from him.

      She tried freeing herself from his grip wanting to escape from that embarrassing situation. Her pathetic attempts only stirred Felix more and a sound resembling a growl left his throat. The sound went right through her cunt and she pushed her thighs together while throwing her head back and letting a groan out. Felix raised an eyebrow as he looked at her ecstatic form. He let another groan out and when he noticed the way her body jolted a smirk appeared on his face.

      “Do you like my voice darling? Does it turn you on? Is this why you always get flustered every time we fight?” His voice went an octave lower if that was possible and Y/N smashed their lips together taking the male by surprise. She desperately pushed her tongue into his mouth wanting nothing more than to shut him up so she can regain her composure.

      Y/N backed away leaving his lips for only a second before he forced her back into the kiss. With one hand he grabbed her thigh and yanked her towards him pressing their hips together and tilted her back more. The contact of her drenched pussy with his already erect shaft had her bucking her hips against him. A delicious groan left his lips and Y/N whimpered into the kiss repeating her action.

      Fed up with her actions Felix pushed her to lay on the desk, the sudden contact with the wooden surface making the oxygen leave her lungs for a few seconds. His hand made its way up her inner thigh until it reached her dripping core. Upon feeling her wetness through her panties a smirk appeared on his face. “Fuck, you are already so wet, darling. And all from my voice, just like a slut.” She whimpered at his words and bucked her hips into his hands desperately needing to feel any sort of relieve.

      A loud noise echoed through the empty office as his hand smacked her thigh in an attempt to make her stop moving. “Now darling, stay put or I won’t touch you!”

      “Fuck you!” She spit taking one of her hands and placing it over her clothed heat. If he won’t help her then she will do it herself.

      “Oh darling, trust me. I will!” Felix harshly yanked her hand from her sensitive parts and in a swift motion, he stripped her of her panties. His touches were feather-like as he explored her cunt for the first time. He felt his dick jolt at how wet she was and without warning pushed two digits inside her. Y/N let out a surprised yelp both her hands instantly grabbing his and her back arching dramatically. “Fuck, I wish you could see the way your pussy swallows my fingers so eagerly. Can’t wait to get my dick in there.” His voice was raspy and a pleasurable shiver crossed her body.

      “Maybe if you stopped fucking talking we would actually get there.” She was moving her hips on her own making his fingers go in and out of her dripping pussy. A dark aura enveloped him at her words and he started pumping his fingers at an impossibly fast pace. Breathy moans and occasional groans were leaving her mouth as she struggled not to squirm around too much.

      Y/N could feel a knot forming in her stomach and she started moving her hips in time with Felix’s hand. Feeling her cunt squeeze his fingers desperately he caught on the fact that she was close and he removed his fingers from inside her at once.

      “You asshole! Why did you…” She couldn’t finish her sentence cause Felix flipped her over pushing her face into the desk.

      “Did you really think I would let you cum on my fingers after you cried for my dick like a slut? You better stop complaining and take what I give you.” She heard how he unbuckled his belt and the faint sound of a zipper before feeling his head slide over her moist lips. Felix bent down over her and inserted his shaft in slowly giving her time to get used to his girth. He let out delicious groans as he felt her tight cunt squeeze around him and her sense went in overdrive from him groaning in her ear.

      His dick stretched her perfectly and she bit her bottom lip suppressing a moan. When he bottomed inside her, he stilled for a few moments under the pretext of giving her time to adjust to him but in reality, he was afraid that if he moved he’ll come instantly just like a teenage boy having sex for the first time. Soon after Y/N tapped his hand urging him to start moving. He started moving slowly, savouring every moment he was inside of her.

      Moving his hands in front of her, he ripped open her shirt somehow managing not to bust any buttons. He pulled her bra down and pinched her erect nipples adding on to her pleasure. His trusts became more urgent and he smacked her right boob ripping a moan out of her. He moved her hips in sync with his, meeting him halfway. She could feel the knot forming again in her stomach and she grabbed the edge of the desk for support.

      “Felix, I’m cuming!” Y/N managed to breathe out between moans.

      Felix moved his hand to her clit and started circling it frantically bringing her closer to her release. “Cum darling!” The ringing of his voice in her ear tipped her over the edge and she released with a loud moan that she was sure could be heard from a few blocks away.

      Felix quickened his pace chasing his own high and overstimulating her at the same time. Y/N’s cunt was squeezing him so heavenly that he thrusted a few more times before pulling out and releasing on her ass. The office was filled with their heavy breaths as they both tried coming down from their highs.

      “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Jeongin gave her a concerned look, confusion present on his face.

      “What am I doing in my own cubicle?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she turned around in her chair to look at him.

      “No, I mean what are you doing here now? Didn’t the meeting for the marketing strategy started 48 minutes ago?” His eyebrows were furrowed and he checked his watch a few times in a row to make sure that he was correct.

      “I told Mr Bang that I came up with no idea and I would rather not take part in the meeting. Plus they have Felix there, it’s not like they actually need me if I got nothing.” She said that nonchalantly turning back on her chair to resume her previous activity.

      “Why would y…”

      Before the man could finish his sentence Felix stormed inside and went to hug Y/N tightly. “Thank you so much, darling! Mr Bang loved the idea. I promise I will make it up to you. Now I have to go. We have a meeting with Mr Kang to present the strategy to him. Love you!” The man cupped her face and placed a tender kiss on her lips before hurriedly getting out and completely ignoring Jeongin.

      Y/N turned her head towards the entrance of the cubicle and noticed how Jeongin was leaning against the plastic wall, hands crossed and a smirk on his lips. She bit her bottom lip before gulping visibly.

      “So tell me Y/N, what was that thing with the soccer team?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

      “Oh, please! Like I actually know anything about soccer!”