#i bring them everywhere now. bought as a pair do not separate

[akakris10]

Can't stop thinking about them. Truly the best duo to ever do it

[starryhyuck]

monetary value. (m) | richkid!mark

pairing: richkid!mark x richkid!reader

words: 8k+

summary: falling in love with mark lee is not as easy as it seems. especially when you’re both engaged to other people.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, creampie, kind of infidelity, little exhibitionism, office sex, riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation

thank you for 1400 followers!!

you fall in love with mark lee in the summer of 2018.

it’s short but blissful — filled with longing gazes, soft whispers and the crisp trepidation that it would all be taken away from you someday.

and it was. you watch as mark loops his arm around mina’s waist, smiling for the cameras as the flashes drown their figures. you throw back your glass of champagne and you feel someone grasp your arm.

your brother, jaehyun, is giving you a warning look. “don’t cause a scene,” he hisses down at you. you roll your eyes at him.

it wasn’t your choice to separate and it wasn’t mark’s either. you two had obligations that you needed to return to — mark’s being mina and yours being yukhei. you’ve both been engaged for several years in order to bring your respective companies success, and falling in love with someone else was never in the cards for you.

yukhei was a lovely, gentle soul, but he wasn’t what you wanted. you wanted it to be that summer all the time. you wanted to feel mark’s hand grip yours at the local cafe. you wanted him to greedily kiss you on the sand while the waves crash against the shore. you wanted his fingers to brush away strands of your hair while he gently makes love to you underneath the moonlight.

you and mark ended things once summer was over. you both knew you couldn’t carry on with what you were doing after being betrothed to other people. you returned to yukhei with a heavy heart, and your fiancé remained oblivious, simply overjoyed to have you back home with him.

jaehyun is the one of the only people who knows of the affair. you tell your brother everything as you know you can trust him wholeheartedly. he also keeps you firm and grounded, reminding you of your place in this socialite world.

“i’m not causing a scene,” you reply to your brother. he gives you a hasty look.

you spot yukhei walking over and jaehyun disappears, leaving you with your fiancé. yukhei has his signature smile painted on his lips, coming to your side and offering you another glass of champagne.

“this place is nice, isn’t it? i was surprised at first when chenle decided to buy it, but now i can see why,” he murmurs to you.

your eyes roam around the expansive building, topped with a golden chandelier and dozens of socialites roaming about, sipping champagne and speaking frivolously to one another. zhong chenle, a close friend of yukhei, bought the building a couple of years ago and today was the grand opening of the new remodel. yukhei was more than excited this morning to attend, having been stuck at his father’s office for the past month working on the merger with your family.

“it’s very pretty,” you remark, your eyes once again finding mark’s figure. he speaks to na jaemin with a wide smile, his arm still snug around mina’s waist.

yukhei hums next to you. “chenle wanted to have dinner with us tomorrow night. i think jisung might tag along too. what do you think?”

you offer your best smile to him. “sounds great, yukhei.”

he beams back at you. you wish you could love yukhei as much as he clearly loves you. but no, your heart still lays with the man across the room.

“i’m going to go to the restroom,” you announce, handing him your champagne glass. he nods and after you step away, you hear kunhang approach him and ask him about how things are going at the company.

you need to breathe. you’re not trying to cause a scene of any kind like jaehyun thinks you are, but you need to be more loving and faithful to yukhei so that everyone is convinced by this sham of a marriage. mark plays his part well, and you need to do the same.

you’re staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror when mina walks in, pausing at the sight of you. you know that mina knows what happened between you and mark that summer, considering mark couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

she doesn’t say a word when she stands next to you, fixing her hair in the mirror. your fingers grip the sink as the silence passes, tension filling the air.

“i’m sorry.”

you refuse to look at her as she makes her apology.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” you mutter back to her. she shakes her head.

“i do. i wish things were different, i really do.”

you can hear the sympathy in her voice, but you don’t want any part of it. you’re grateful that mina understands in some way instead of revealing your secrets to yukhei, but the emotion is overpowered by the feeling of jealousy that mina gets to be the one to go home with mark at the end of the day.

you exit the bathroom with a heavy heart, trying to find yukhei in the midst of the crowd. you’re stopped by naeun, who smiles gently at you and pulls you to the side.

“are you alright?”

naeun has been engaged to your brother since she was seven, but the only difference between their relationship and yours was that naeun and jaehyun actually loved each other. naeun acted as a sibling to you, and you didn’t mind jaehyun telling her your secrets from time to time because she was so understanding. she was constantly checking up on you to make sure you and yukhei were doing alright. most of the time, yukhei was but you were not.

“i’m doing fine, naeun.”

she frowns at your lie. her eyes flit over to where mark is standing, mina rejoining his side.

“he doesn’t love her.”

you shake your head. “it doesn’t matter.”

you find yukhei next to xiaojun and give him a soft kiss on the cheek, causing his whole face to light up at your affection.

this is where you belong. you simply can’t afford to think otherwise.

—

“i was thinking we could go to paris for your birthday. i know a few friends who live there.”

you smile at yukhei, who is eagerly leaning across the kitchen counter to speak to you. he looks like a kid on christmas day as he talks about your birthday plans.

you honestly didn’t want to do anything lavish this year. usually, your parents pay for some expensive trip as compensation for not giving a fuck about you. since you’re living on your own with yukhei now, they don’t really feel guilty anymore when they forget about you.

you’ve liked your past birthdays, most of them being spent in spain or italy. your favorite birthday was in athens, where jaehyun had first introduced you to mark.

you shake the thought out of your head to respond to yukhei.

“xuxi, i don’t really want to go anywhere this year. staying at home would be nice.”

he frowns. “that’s not fun! come on, this is the perfect time to take a vacation. we can go anywhere you’d like.”

you finish up the remains of your lunch and put the dishes in the sink. yukhei is adamant on following you out of the kitchen and into the living room. you lean down to pick up your laptop sitting on the couch but he stops you.

he has a serious gaze planted on his face and he sighs.

“i know you don’t really want to be married to me,” he whispers.

you avoid his stare. “what are you talking about?”

“i can see right through you, y/n. i’ve known you long enough.” he pauses, his fingers running over your hand gently. you still refuse to look at him, knowing you’ll only see the desperation in his eyes. “just give me a chance? i don���t want you to be stuck with me if you’re going to be unhappy.”

“i’m not unhappy, xuxi.”

“you are. i know you are.”

you exhale and he takes a step back from you so you can breathe.

“just let me throw you this party, okay? i promise it’ll be fun.”

and you feel bad. you feel awful because yukhei’s known this whole time that you’ve never loved him.

“okay.”

two weeks later, you find yourself in the heart of paris. yukhei made all of the arrangements fairly quickly, the both of you rooming in an apartment next to his friends, ten and yangyang. you know absolutely nothing about your party, and yukhei intends on keeping it that way.

he’s been doting on you since the plane landed in france, taking you to all of these art galleries and finding multiple bakeries to soothe your sweet tooth. you can tell yukhei is trying his hardest to change your mind, but everywhere you go, you see mark.

you see him as lovers pass by you, holding hands and smiling at one another affectionately. you see him as you gaze up at the eiffel tower, the lights shining down on your figure. you even see him when you look at yukhei, wishing mark was beside you instead.

you think back to that summer in greece when you first fell in love with him.

“you’re a little clumsy for a billionaire’s son, aren’t you?”

mark rolls his eyes at your teasing and you giggle. his cheeks redden as the both of you lean down to wipe up the coffee mark spilled all over the floor.

mark left the balcony door open so the breeze could flow inside but when a gust of wind throttled him, he spilled his morning coffee everywhere. he was such a klutz, yet you could never stay mad at him for long.

“the wind is really strong today, okay?”

you laugh again, throwing the soggy paper towels in the trash. you stand up and kiss him gently.

“you’re so silly.”

he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “but you love me anyway.”

you chuckle. “i guess i do.”

“so what do you think?”

you’re taken out of your daydream by the sound of yukhei’s voice. the both of you are sitting outside of a cafe, enjoying the gentle breeze of paris.

“sorry, what did you say?”

yukhei laughs softly at you. “about dropping by ten’s art gallery tonight? he’s been working really hard on his latest collection.”

“oh,” you murmur, breaking off a piece of the croissant yukhei bought you. “yeah, that sounds nice.”

he nods at your answer and takes a sip of his cappuccino. the two of you eat and drink in silence and although you find it comforting, you can tell his mind is swirling. he’s clearly troubled by your indifference to him. you’ve tried to make it better over the past few days, holding his hand and giving him kisses on the cheek here and there. he knows, however, that you don’t really mean it.

later that night, you slip on your favorite red dress from versace and pair it with some black louboutins. yukhei waits for you by the door, beaming when you approach him.

“you look beautiful,” he comments, sliding your jacket over your shoulders.

“thanks, xuxi.”

the car ride to the gallery is spent in silence, and you realize most of your interactions with yukhei consist of this now. you hate it because you and yukhei used to talk so freely, but you can tell he considers this trip to be a turning point in your relationship.

when you arrive at the venue, yukhei quickly jogs over to open your door for you, and you smile as you take his hand and step out of the car. you thank the driver and loop your arm through yukhei’s, walking slowly up the steps to the gallery.

“have fun tonight,” he murmurs to you. you furrow your eyebrows at his odd statement, but it all comes clear to you once yukhei swings open the door.

you’re drowned in a chorus of surprise! and you’re in shock by the sight before you. all of the people who run within your circle are gathered in this small art gallery, huddled together as streamers fall down from the ceiling.

naeun and jaehyun approach you first, both of them offering a hug.

“happy birthday!”

even though your birthday wasn’t for another two days, you figure this was part of the illusion of yukhei’s surprise.

“how did you guys get here?” you ask, still a little frazzled by everyone’s appearance. 

naeun giggles at you. “xuxi arranged everything!”

“yeah, isn’t that nice of him?” jaehyun questions. you know what he’s implying, but you ignore it.

more of your friends envelop you into their arms, giving you happy birthday greetings or complimenting your appearance. you smile at all of them, accepting their kind words as you try to get through everybody. you feel a little overwhelmed by the attention but you do your best to thank everyone for coming.

it probably wasn’t a hassle for most of them to fly to paris on such short notice, given most of your friends like taking spontaneous trips anyway. you’re pretty sure yuta was just in new york yesterday with sicheng.

you lose yukhei again in the crowd, rina pulling you aside and asking how your romantic getaway with yukhei has been. all of your friends seem to buy into your blossoming relationship, and they have no reason not to.

“everything’s going great, rina,” you smile tightly.

she grins and clutches your arm. “it’s so sweet how he did all of this for you! i would die if i was in your place.”

you nod and laugh, ignoring the guilt pooling in your stomach. you know that no matter how nice yukhei treats you and how hard he tries to be the man you want, you can never love him the way he wants to be loved. you can never have what your brother and naeun have.

rina leaves you to get a glass of champagne and that’s when you hear him.

“happy birthday.”

your back stiffens. you can identify that voice anywhere. it’s the same voice that used to sing you to bed, strumming his guitar gently as his gentle hums lull you to slumber. it’s the same voice that asked you if you would wait for him when the seasons changed. it’s the same voice who whispered sweet nothings to you during those late nights when it was only you and him.

you turn around to look at him. mina’s right by his side, looking a little uncomfortable by the interaction.

he looks as handsome as ever — wearing a suit from armani’s latest collection. your eyes focus on the cufflinks he’s wearing, the same pair you bought him for his birthday two years ago.

his gaze is heavy and you feel trapped underneath it. was it possible for him to be your biggest daydream and your greatest nightmare all at once?

“thank you,” you clear your throat. “i’m glad you both could make it.”

you fail to decipher the look in his eyes. you feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the room except you and him. mina averts her gaze, feeling as if this is too intimate for her to see.

mark whispers delicately to you, but you swear that he’s screaming.

“we wouldn’t miss it.”

—

it’s two hours later when you feel completely exhausted, walking outside to catch some fresh air. you’ve talked to yukhei only once since the party’s started. he’s been distracted by ten and yangyang, all three of them laughing and catching up with one another. you have no problems with this considering it’s the happiest you’ve seen yukhei in weeks.

you settle down on the outdoor steps, sighing softly and gazing at the night sky.

you hear the door open but you figure it’s just doyoung leaving early. he usually has morning meetings but he always makes sure to attend these gatherings for his friends.

you’re surprised when you catch mark in the corner of your eye, taking a seat beside you. you freeze, not really sure exactly what he’s doing.

“we could’ve made it work.”

you pause for a few seconds before responding.

“no, we couldn’t have.”

he chuckles and shakes his head, staring down at the concrete steps. you bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them.

to have mark this close to you after so long — it felt both terrifying and freeing at the same time.

“we should’ve left,” he whispers. you hear the crack in his voice and you shut your eyes. “that night in plaka. we should’ve run away. you’re not supposed to be with him and i’m not supposed to be with her.”

“you’re wrong,” you murmur, feeling choked up already. “we were always meant to be with them. xuxi would’ve searched for me if i had left-“

“bullshit,” mark hisses, turning to face you now. you keep your eyes closed but you can feel his stare burning through the side of your head. “look at what yukhei’s done just to make you happy. you honestly think he wouldn’t let you go if he knew it’s what you wanted?”

you can feel a tear slip out and you sniffle, wiping it away frantically with the back of your hand. mark’s heart breaks at the sight of you crying.

“i don’t want to argue with you,” you whisper breathily. “what’s done is done. you get married to mina and i get married to yukhei. that’s how it was always supposed to go.”

you think mark will leave then, but he stays by your side, eyes staring up at the moon. you can hear the tremble in his voice the next time he speaks.

“i fucking miss you. i miss you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he says, hands balling up into fists. “i wish we could go back. remember that night we met in athens? you looked straight out of heaven, i swear. i knew i wanted you then. just like how i want you now.”

“stop,” you mutter. “stop saying those things.”

“why? it’s the truth,” he scoffs.

you feel a burst of anger flare in your chest. your eyes flutter open and you glare at him.

“you think i don’t miss you either? you think that that summer meant nothing to me? fuck, mark, i think about you all the goddamn time. i think about you when i’m supposed to be thinking about yukhei. when i’m supposed to be marrying him, not you.”

the door swings open again and you both turn to see who it is. yukhei walks out, his face confused by the sight of your teary eyes. he rushes over, leaning down and checking on you.

“hey, you okay? what happened?”

“nothing,” you smile at him, giggling a little to reassure him. “i just drank too much champagne. mark was out here comforting me.”

mark looks frustrated by your words, and he’s clearly not liking the fact that yukhei’s trying to take care of you. his hands are still balled into fists as he stands up. he puts on his best grin for yukhei to see.

“just wanted to make sure the birthday girl has a good time,” he assures. you watch as he walks back into the building, his figure disappearing into the sea of bodies.

“you sure you’re okay?” yukhei murmurs, checking you over again. he’s never really seen you cry and he’s honestly panicking a little on the inside.

you put on your best smile once again.

“i’m fine.”

—

“mark, this is my sister, y/n. y/n, this is mark.”

you smile at the man jaehyun has presented before you. you’re a little tipsy and you quickly adjust the birthday girl tiara that’s threatening to fall off your head. jaehyun laughs at your ridiculousness.

“nice to meet you, mark lee. my brother talks so fondly of his soulmate.”

mark chuckles out of embarrassment, the tips of his ears growing red. “ah, jaehyun just jokes about that.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “don’t act like we weren’t meant to be, mark.”

mark’s cheeks grow redder if it was even humanly possible. you giggle at his cute nature. jaehyun is soon whisked away by johnny, who is asking your brother to play beer pong with him. you snicker at their antics.

you’re left alone with mark, and to be perfectly honest, he’s a little awkward. a little too awkward to be a big shot ceo.

“aren’t you supposed to be the heir of lee enterprises?” you shout over the blaring music. it’s only fitting that jaehyun chose a raging club in athens as the venue for your party this year. you were genuinely having a good time, especially because you didn’t have to worry about pretending to be in love with yukhei — he couldn’t join the trip since he needed to step up to his duties at the company.

mark laughs at your question. “that’s my brother, taeyong! i’m just the stand-in second child.”

you smile at his joke. “same here! i’m the disappointment, jaehyun’s the looker!”

you both chuckle and you take a step forward, ignoring the way mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at your action. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“wanna get out of here?”

you toss and turn in bed, struggling to fall asleep. yukhei grumbles next to you, having fallen asleep over a hour ago. you sigh and get up as quietly as possible, trying your best not to wake your fiancé. you succeed as yukhei doesn’t move an inch, still as a rock while he dozes on.

you move to the balcony connected to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly and taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs. it’s a little cold and you wrap your blanket tighter around yourself.

the party ended without a hitch tonight, most of your friends still laughing and drinking together when you and yukhei left. he was worried about you after he caught you outside with mark, but after repeatedly reassuring him that you were okay, he let it go.

you didn’t see mark after your conversation, and you assume he left quickly with mina to avoid doing something he would regret. you think about his words as you stare down at the small streets of paris. you can still hear people chattering even though it’s already 4am, most of them drunk and stumbling on their way back home.

your mind travels to the last night you spent with mark during that summer. he was begging you to leave with him, practically on his knees to try and convince you.

“just come with me. we can start a different life. we don’t have any ties to hold us down! jaehyun and taeyong will both take over our companies, they don’t need us to be there!”

you shake your head at his ludicrous idea. “are you insane? did you forget about mina? about yukhei? they’re both waiting for us to come home, mark.”

“i am home,” he says strictly, walking over to you and gently stroking your cheek. “i’m right here with you, and that’s the only place i need to be. we don’t need to do this to ourselves, baby. we don’t need to separate. let’s get on the next flight to wherever and start a new life.”

you push him away and sigh. “we can’t. i can’t do that to him.”

“do you love him?”

you narrow your eyes. “no, and you know very well that i never have. i’m just not going to be some asshole who leaves her fiancé and her family with no explanation whatsoever. we both knew this wasn’t forever, mark.”

he tugs at his hair, clearly frustrated with your stubborn nature.

“so you’re telling me that you’re going to go home and act like everything’s fine? you’re going to walk down the aisle and get married to yukhei and not think of me?”

you turn away from him, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. realization is hitting you like a truck — this would have to be it. you can’t see mark again. everything that’s happened since the beginning of summer is coming to an end.

“yes, that’s exactly what i’m going to do. i recommend you do the same.”

mark watches your back tremble as you refuse to face him. he exhales, running his hands down his face exasperatedly. minutes pass in complete silence, the only sound being heard are your small sniffles and mark’s occasional sigh.

“i love you,” he whispers. “i love you, and that’s not going to stop. i don’t care if i have to tell yukhei myself, but i’m going to make you realize it.”

the weight of mark’s words still linger in your mind. you ponder over the consequences if you do decide to leave yukhei. honestly, you didn’t want to break his heart. he’s always been so kind to you and understanding, despite your indifference towards him. he’s treated you that way since you two were younger. the only flaw about yukhei is that he loves you.

you wish you had one of those romance stories where you grew up with yukhei and fell in love with him when you both became adults. it would make everything so much easier if that were the case.

on the other hand, you couldn’t embarrass your family. your parents have worked so hard just to build the family business from the ground up. jaehyun’s been trained to step in as ceo since the day he was born, and the merger with naeun and yukhei’s family would bring your company’s profits through the roof. you couldn’t afford to lose yukhei and potentially damage the future of jung corporation.

you can’t decipher if you’re using these reasons as excuses. you’ve always been scared to go against your parents’s wishes. you were so young when they told you that you would be married to yukhei, and you’ve been raised to believe that everything they’re doing for you is for your own good.

maybe you really were a coward. you’re just afraid to fully take the leap with mark — to leave everything behind and be known as a disgrace to the rest of your family. mark was ready to sacrifice everything to be with you, but your cowardice prevented you from doing the same.

the door to the balcony opens and yukhei peers out, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“what are you doing out here?”

“couldn’t sleep.”

he joins you on the balcony, gently shutting the door behind him. he settles on the chair next to you. you both bask in the silence for a while before yukhei speaks up.

“have you been in love with mark for a long time?”

your head darts up, eyes widening at his question. you stare at yukhei but he doesn’t look at you, continuing to peer over the balcony.

“w-what- how did you-“

“you never cry,” he replies. “you only cry when you’re overwhelmed or seriously hurt. i’ve seen you drink at least seven glasses of champagne without ever tearing up. it also wasn’t hard to tell that mark wanted to murder me as soon as i came over to you.”

“yukhei,” you whisper. “i-“

“i know. you don’t need to be sorry. i should’ve known — you were always so dismissive and standoffish whenever we were at a party with the lee’s. you also weren’t the same when you returned from greece.”

you try to digest the fact that not only did yukhei know about you and mark, but he also knew you so well that he could tell something was off about you.

he takes a brief pause before asking his next question. “did you think i would be mad? that i wouldn’t let you be happy?”

you shake your head. “i just- i couldn’t disappoint everybody-“

he throws his head back and releases a throaty laugh.

“y/n, who gives a fuck about what anyone thinks? i’ve watched you be miserable over the past two years because you’re torturing yourself with this idea that you need to please everyone.” he turns to you and takes your hands in his. “i really do love you. more than i’ve ever loved anyone else. so that’s why i’m telling you that you need to find mark and be with him before it’s too late.”

“xuxi, it’s not that easy-“

“but it is!” he exclaims, trying to get you to see the bigger picture. “don’t you understand how easy it is? listen, the merger with your family is already ninety-five percent complete. there’s no way in hell my father is going to back out of this, especially after our stocks rose by a considerable amount last month. we don’t need to be married. our relationship was just the first step for both of our companies.”

your bottom lip trembles while you register all of the information he’s throwing your way. yukhei is telling you that you can be with mark now, you have nothing holding you back. everything would be perfect if you just weren’t so-

“scared,” you mumble. “i’m so scared, xuxi.”

“i know, i know you are,” he says, eyes staring at you in worry. “just talk to him. if he loves you, he’ll listen.”

—

when you come back home, you’re a little out of touch with reality. the first thing yukhei wants you to do is call mark but since you’re still trying to register everything, he lets you be.

he takes the guest room while you try to sort out whatever the fuck is going on in your head. you call naeun in the midst of your imminent breakdown, and she answers immediately.

“why can’t me and yukhei be like you and jaehyun?”

she’s a little startled by your question but she replies anyway.

“because you don’t love yukhei. you love mark.”

and it sounds so idiotic because you already knew this, but hearing someone else say it makes all the lightbulbs click.

“thanks, naeun.”

the first person you want to talk to is mina. you really don’t know mina well, the both of you simply acknowledging each other at parties. her brother, seungyoon, was the head of kang corporation and working on the merger with taeyong.

you’re in your head as you drive over to the kang household, fingers gripping the steering wheel while you try to think of what to say.

mina is surprised when she opens up the door to see your figure behind it. you both awkwardly stare at one another before you clear your throat.

“can we talk?”

she nods, stepping back to let you in. you two rest comfortably on the kang’s living room couch while one of the maids serves some tea for the both of you to drink. mina avoids your gaze but you can tell she is curious about why you’ve decided to visit.

“um,” you start off, trying to find the words to say. “i came over because i wanted to talk to you about mark.”

“oh. well, mark isn’t here,” she replies. “he hasn’t lived with me since he came back from greece.”

“oh,” you murmur, feeling embarrassed. you’re sure that mark’s living situation changed because of you. “i didn’t know that.”

she sighs. “y/n, i wasn’t lying that night when i told you i wished things were different. i don’t love mark and i know for sure he doesn’t love me. you’re all he can think about since that summer, and we only put on a good show for the cameras.”

you exhale. “i’m sorry. we shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially knowing you and yukhei were waiting-“

you’re surprised when mina throws her head back and laughs.

“i don’t care about that.” she comes over and sits next to you, looking into your eyes. “i actually love someone else just as mark loves you. i loathe this marriage as much as you do.”

you widen your eyes. “wait, what? who?”

mina blushes then, averting her gaze from you. she clears her throat.

“do you know the hwang family?”

you choke. “hwang hyunjin?”

her cheeks grow redder as she nods. she stares down at her feet while she speaks to you. “that’s not the point. i’m just saying that if you want to go to mark, by all means, i’m not stopping you. it would make him less grumpy.”

you laugh, feeling as if a big weight has been taken off your shoulders.

“thank you, mina.”

you head to lee enterprises on a mission, wearing mark’s favorite floral dress and the cartier necklace he bought you. you know he’s bound to be in the office right now, especially since taeyong is away in japan for business affairs.

you’re nervous as you can feel the stares of the company workers on you when you walk through the glass doors. you keep your head low and sigh when you get to the elevator, pressing the highest floor before anyone can get in with you.

you go over and over in your head what you plan to say to mark but you know you’re going to forget everything anyways the moment you see him. when the elevator doors open, you scan the area and try to identify where mark’s office is before anyone sees you.

you’re caught when jungwoo lays his eyes on you as he walks by.

“y/n?”

you laugh awkwardly. “uh, hey, jungwoo. do you happen to know where mark’s office is?”

he blinks twice, clearly surprised by your presence.

“yeah, um, his office is in the back. next to taeyong’s.”

“thanks,” you mutter, glancing at him one more time before scurrying away. you’re fully embarrassed now but you can’t afford to go back, not when you’ve made it this far.

you awkwardly enter the waiting room of mark’s office and his secretary, renjun, is shocked to see you.

“oh, hi y/n. did you have an appointment with mark?”

“not really,” you reply. “is he with someone right now?”

“well, no, but-“

“okay, great!” you beam at him, and renjun stutters when you knock on the door to mark’s office.

when you hear him call come in, you take a deep breath before opening the door.

mark is working diligently at his desk, head down as he shuffles through papers. you close the door so that renjun doesn’t hear anything. mark’s yet to look up at you, focused on the task at hand.

“what is it, renjun?”

“i’m a coward, and i’m sorry.”

mark’s head darts up at the sound of your voice, and he swears he’s dreaming.

there’s absolutely no way you’re standing in front of him right now. he stands up, pinching his leg to make sure he’s actually awake. you walk closer to him, trying to gather all of the courage you can muster.

“we should’ve run away together.”

he comes over to you, stumbling a little and almost tripping on one of the chairs, causing you to giggle. he stands in front of you but he’s lost on if he’s allowed to touch you. you smile and decide for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently.

mark digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you closer. the kiss quickly turns into something else as mark is greedily trying to get you as close to him as possible.

you pull away, slightly breathless. “don’t you want to know why i’m here?”

“i haven’t had you like this in two years, baby. i don’t really give a fuck about anything else right now.”

you end up pinned underneath him as he lays your body across his desk, desperate to get a feel of you. he stumbles as he quickly tries to find the phone and you watch him click a few buttons before renjun’s voice comes over the speaker.

“yes?”

“cancel everything today. you can go home early, renjun.”

“mark, you have that meeting with-“

he hangs up the phone, returning to pressing kisses against your collarbone. his fingers work on pushing up your dress so he can fully see the lacy underwear you’re wearing.

“mark,” you hiss, trying to get him to slow down so you can actually have a conversation with him. he’s rabid at this point, pulling down the top of your dress and attaching his lips to your mound. “mark, i wanted to let you know that i finally realized how stupid i was during that summer.”

he hums around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple. you moan and tug at his hair.

“mark, yukhei made me realize something.”

“please don’t talk about yukhei right now,” he murmurs, moving his attention to your other breast. “you’re so pretty, baby. did you wear this dress just for me? you know how much i like it. gives me easy access. remember when i fucked you in that alleyway in plaka?”

and you do remember. you were high on adrenaline that day and mark was absolutely mesmerized by the way your dress would bounce whenever you took a step. he was practically dying to get a taste of you and so you let him pound you ruthlessly in an empty alleyway. it didn’t end there either — he also fingered you in a cafe bathroom and let you ride his cock on the balcony of your shared apartment in athens.

let’s just say mark really liked this dress and you two were also very sexually active that summer.

“missed you, baby,” he murmurs. “haven’t fucked anyone else in two years.”

your eyes widen. “you haven’t fucked anyone in two years?”

he shakes his head. “can’t. only think of you.”

he moves up so that he’s face to face with you again. you rub your thumb over his cheek.

“i’m sorry. i love you. i wish i wasn’t so stupid.”

he laughs. “you’re not stupid. a little out of your mind, maybe.”

you whine when mark plays with the waistband of your underwear.

“aren’t we going a little too fast?”

he chuckles. “this is coming from the girl who rented a whole movie theater just so we could fuck in there all day.”

you narrow your eyes. “touché.”

soon enough, mark’s got your dress and underwear on the floor, his tongue lapping at your folds. you cry out, tugging fistfuls of his hair while he devours your pussy.

mark’s clearly clouded by lust and the office is filled with sounds of him slurping your juices. you try to give mark a warning that your orgasm is approaching fast, but he’s lost in his own world, eyes closed as he eats you out. you soar into your first orgasm and sob, bucking your hips up into mark’s mouth.

he groans when you cum, not stopping his relentless assault on your pussy. you whine from the overstimulation and try to push him away, but mark is persistent, using his hands to pin your thighs down to the table.

you forgot how much mark likes to see you cum. you remember being completely drained that summer in greece after mark pounded into you every night, desperate to see you fall apart over and over again.

you throw your head back when another climax builds just as quickly as the first. he pulls away from you and pushes a finger inside your weeping hole, curling it upwards.

“missed this pussy, baby,” he murmurs. “forgot how wet and tight you are. gonna take my cock later like a good girl?”

“yes, yes,” you chant, moaning when mark adds another finger.

“come on, baby. come on,” he whispers, picking up his pace and inserting a third finger. to throw you over the edge, he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks hard.

you thrash underneath his hold as your orgasm sweeps over your body, heightening your senses and throwing you deep into pleasure. you ride out your high on his fingers and when you whine again from the oversensitivity, mark stands up and unbuckles his belt.

you gasp when he lifts you off from the desk and drags you over to the large, glass windows that cover half of his office. you whimper when he presses you up against the glass.

you’re high enough to where the people walking on the sidewalk can’t see you unless they really looked, but the thrill still pulsates through your veins. you can’t even imagine what you look like — your breasts exposed and your dress bunched up at your waist.

mark’s grunting behind you, slacks around his ankles as he fists at his cock. you whine and arch your back, desperate to feel him fully.

“want me, baby?” he whispers in your ear. you shudder. “tell me how much you missed me.”

“m-missed you s-so much,” you blubber, pressing your hands up against the window. “fuck me mark, please.”

he slowly pushes into you and you cry at the stretch, feeling the burn in your throat. he soothes you through it, rubbing his thumb over your hip when he bottoms out. he gives you time to get adjusted, pressing small kisses against the curve of your spine.

“feel so good, baby. wet and snug around me, you fit like a fucking glove. did yukhei ever fill you this well?”

“i-i never f-fucked yukhei,” you reply.

the answer pleases him and he takes an experimental thrust into you. when you moan at the pleasure, mark turns into someone else.

you try your best to balance yourself on the glass while mark relentlessly pummels into you, pushing you further and further up the window. his hands move to cup your breasts and he licks at your neck, wanting to touch you everywhere.

“a-angel,” he hisses in your ear, the sound of his balls slapping against your clit filling the air. “my perfect little angel. little cock whore, aren’t you?”

you barely register his words and mark growls when he doesn’t receive an answer. his fingers grip your face and he brings you against his chest. you sob when the angle has him hitting you deeper.

“don’t wanna answer? been fucked too dumb to reply, baby? missed my cock, didn’t you?” you quickly nod at his questions, eyes rolling back as he constantly hits your sweet spot. “thought about you all the time. jacked off every single night to the thought of having you like this again. missed you so much.”

“m-missed you too, mark,” you mumble back to him.

his other hand moves down to stimulate your clit and you grip his wrist, your body going into overdrive. you convulse around his cock and you spasm around him, crying and whining while mark holds you firmly.

he moves the two of you so that he’s sitting in his office chair with you on top of him. you wail when he slaps your ass.

“ride me.”

despite your shaky legs, you follow his orders and build a steady pace on top of him. he watches as you swivel your hips and groans at how good you feel around him. you pick up your pace when the pleasure builds up in your tummy again. mark’s fingers dig into your hips as he tries to guide you up and down his cock. you grab his shoulders and move faster, bouncing on top of him.

you practically see white when you cream mark’s cock for the fourth time, wrapping your arms around him when your body goes limp. he gives you a few seconds to recover before thrusting into you.

you whine. “mark, i can’t.”

“don’t lie to me, baby.”

and you remember that mark’s seen you come at least seven times in one night, so he knows no feat is impossible.

he lazily fucks you to another orgasm and you let him use your body until he shoots ribbons of his cum deep inside you, groaning loudly as he empties out. he doesn’t stop until almost a minute later, giving you everything he has.

you can already feel some of his cum start to spill out but you and mark don’t care as you kiss each other gently. mark holds you close, not wanting to part from you any longer.

“what are we gonna do?” you ask him quietly.

“about what?”

you roll your eyes. “about our engagements! and the company’s merger too.”

“i’m sure mina would be more than happy to be engaged to hyunjin, and i can talk about the merger with taeyong. i’ll make it work, baby, don’t worry. how about yukhei?”

“he’s the one who told me to come to you.”

“huh,” mark hums. “maybe he isn’t that bad.”

“he isn’t! you’re just jealous,” you murmur.

“can’t help it. i love the prettiest girl alive.”

“you’re spending too much time with johnny.”

he smiles and kisses you.

“we’re going to be together, baby. i’ll make sure of it.”

—

“merci, bonne journée à toi aussi!”

the young man at the bakery smiles and waves at you as you exit. you carefully place the cake you ordered in the back of your car, making sure it’s safely tucked away before driving off.

you hum lowly to the sound of the music vibrating through the speakers. it isn’t long before you reach your apartment, quickly parking and unloading everything inside.

you get to setting the cake up immediately, lighting the candles and clearing the kitchen counter. you jump a little when you hear the familiar click of the front door.

“y/n?”

“in here!” you call, quickly holding the cake up in your hands as mark walks into the room. “happy birthday!”

he grins at you, laughing as he walks over. you sing a horrible rendition of the birthday song to him but mark loves it anyways, giving you a kiss on the lips before blowing out his candles. you cheer for him and smile, placing the cake safely back down on the counter.

“thank you, baby,” he hums, kissing your temple. “i love it.”

you and mark moved to paris shortly after reuniting. as soon as taeyong returned from his business trip, mark worked day and night to try and get the merger with mina’s family to go through. mina’s father was at first appalled by mark’s decision to leave his daughter but once he learned of mina’s own relationship with hyunjin, he agreed to keeping the merger. knowing the company was in safe hands with taeyong, mark had no qualms about leaving.

yukhei was able to successfully merge his and your family’s company without letting anyone know of your relationship problems. your last conversation with him still leaves your mind dizzy, but you’re grateful to him for everything he’s done for you.

“you don’t deserve this, xuxi. i’m sorry for not being who you wanted me to be.”

yukhei shakes his head, leaning back in the dining room chair. he knows you leave for paris tomorrow to start your new life with mark, and he doesn’t want you to feel guilty about anything.

“you have nothing to be sorry about. i’m just glad you’re finally happy. i’ve never seen you like this before.”

you smile shyly. “yeah, i guess i’m acting a little different now. i hope you could visit us in paris someday.”

he smiles. “count me in. don’t forget to add the wedding invitation.”

jaehyun was a little more reluctant on letting his baby sister run off with one of his friends to a different county. naeun was able to soothe most of his worries and your departure was one of the first times you’ve seen jaehyun cry.

it was also the first time you’ve seen him threaten mark.

now, you and mark live a peaceful life in france. given most of your inheritance was cut in half due to your strike of ‘rebellion against the family,’ mark found a small job producing music at a local recording studio and you took to practicing what little business knowledge you acquired from your parents by investing in some new homes around paris.

you were living the life you always wanted with mark, and you couldn’t be happier.

you’re interrupted from your thoughts by the feeling of mark sliding his hands up your shirt.

“i think i know what i want for my birthday present.”

you laugh and kiss him, letting the birthday boy take you the way he wants.

taglist: @suhweo​, @bubudays​, @ncteaxhoe​, @floweringtheflowers​, @keemburley​, @en-see-tee​, @nctandmatteblackaremyaethstetic​, @oreo-cheesycake​

[imkylotrash]

What Goes Around

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​​

He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days. 

“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye. 

“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you. 

“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that. 

“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college. 

I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though. 

“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.

“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life. 

“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually. 

“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house. 

“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table. 

“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile. 

“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you. 

“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house. 

“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people. 

“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything. 

“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit. 

“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.

“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.

“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house. 

“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside. 

“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin. 

“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together. 

“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside. 

“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go. 

“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that. 

“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received. 

“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.” 

“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus. 

“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him. 

“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time. 

“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.

“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you. 

“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips. 

“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last. 

[bakugohoex]

Not neccesarily a request, but Porco would be the absolute blast to spend a quarantine lock down with. He would always find something creative to do with you and I stand by the headcannon that be can cook EXCEPTIONALLY well. Ya'll would be eating well. On top of it all, I mean look at him!? He's like a walking sex god. You guys could surely find something entertaining to do. If you get my gist.

“another lockdown with me, baby”

pairing: porco galliard x female reader

cw: modern au, nsfw (shower sex), aftercare

word count: 1200+

a/n: sorry i made this into a headcanon cause i loved the idea sm

summary: in which you and porco spend another national lockdown together

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

You remember last lockdown, being confined for 6 months just going on with work on team meetings and having girls night at home.

Yeah, well last time you had Porco with you and it was horrific.

2 months into your relationship you both ended up moving in with each other.

It was Porco’s idea as the idea of not seeing you every day broke him into pieces.

Imagine his little face for a week asking you to move in for hours on end, baby just wants to spend time with his fave girl.

Last lockdown, you both were a fresh new couple. This time, after a year together, it was a lot different. Your dynamic had been made and you both had a routine; he was still the same cocky bastard though.

He’d give such a smug look after hearing another national lockdown was happening, gleaming out a “another lockdown with me, baby”.

Lie ins, lie ins, lie ins, you both worked from home now and had daily meetings after midday. This boy will hold onto you for dear life and will never let you go.

Makes breakfast for you every day, he’s actually a decent cook because he loves food more than he loves you (he’d never tell you that though).

Will give you back massages from the strain of hunching your back in meetings. 

Boys a sweetie.

I know this man would see your bag on any online store and just buy it, he watched how easily you bought stuff last lockdown and now he’s the one buying it for you. Will add other clothes he likes, especially lingerie that he wants you to wear.

Workout who? The most you two do is go on a daily walk after dinner but that is literally it.

Movie nights and just cuddling in general, adorable boys just like you in their arms.

You both have separate nights a week where you have some wine/beer with your friends, he’ll stay in the living room and you in the bedroom, catching up with your own friends.

Definitely have a group call with your mutual friends and play drinking games to let loose.

With spare time, there's one thing that increases with both your alone time.

Sex everywhere, early morning kisses down your neck to the top of your underwear. Shower sex, bending you over whilst you make breakfast for him, before work calls, he’d fuck you and after work calls, he’d have these grabby hands to grab your tits.

This man just missed not seeing them for the two hour call you were both on, will put his head under your shirt and suck on them whilst he takes your jeans off. 

Late night sex, before dinner, just as you’re getting into bed. This man will wake you up at 3am after having a wet dream about you and want to fuck you.

His favourite was shower sex, he’d find himself joining you in the shower. He’d act like he came to wash your hair and body, but one slip of his finger and he began to rub against your clit.

Another rough hand against your mouth and his cock just happened to become hard and rub against your ass.

He will push you into the cold tiles and fuck you senseless, boy loves hearing the moans and soft whimpers you give. The water falling onto your back as his mouth goes to your breasts. Sucking as he slides back and forth with his cock pushing you to your limits.

Hearing you moan his name makes this man go wild, he just loves the sound of his name from your tongue. Will thrust even harder trying to hit every spot in you, this leads to you easily gushing onto his cock. 

Cum on sight, at seeing you cum he will cum back and you become dirtier than you did before you entered the shower. Baby will help you wash up though he may be horny, but he is a sweetie.

“We should do this every day.” He had just finished cleaning the cum from your body, the sweat that had etched onto your skin and the burning sensation away from your cunt. His smooth hands ran across your bare wet body, admiring you like a piece of artwork.

You leant against his body, giving a tired murmur back, “everyday, yeah…”

He laughed at how dull and tired your eyes looked, quickly grabbing the towel and helping you out. His own around his hips loosely, one action and he’d be free to you again, he helped to bring you out of the shower, holding your sore body with a gentle hand. “Couple more steps baby.” 

He left soft kisses against your shoulder as he directed you to the bedroom, he knew you'd be tired to dry your hair and your skin routine. Deciding to let you sit on the bed, he smiled at how you looked dazed almost high, perfect for him. “This one or this one.” He takes out clothes for you to sleep in, but you give a mumble of a third option.

“Your stuff.” He happily obliged grabbing his shirt and your underwear to put on you, you happily lifted your arms letting him put the shirt on before he softly lifted your legs. Small kisses going against your thighs, he was always so tender afterwards, so careful to not hurt you. 

“Let’s dry your hair and put some cream on and then we can cuddle, okay?”

“Okay baby.” You gleamed out watching as he got the hairdryer and easily moved along the bed to dry each part, he had worn some joggers having given you the shirt he was going to wear. His bare back hitting your back as he shuffled around you, he hummed a soft song that you could barely recognise but it soothed you.

“Sleep.” You whined out wanting to feel Porco’s arms around you as you watched some film you could fall asleep too.

“One more step, I know you’re tired, baby.” He put the hairdryer away, grabbing the moisturiser he knew you used. Taking some in his fingers he massages your face giving you a giggle.

You smiled as he rubbed the cream across your face, “my turn.” You pouted, he gave a soft smile, his blonde hair moving to both sides of his head. He passed the cream as you took some in your fingers putting it on his nose. You giggled at the white spots around his face before circling your fingers through it. 

“My skin better be glowing tomorrow.” He joked out as you chuckled at him, you moved backwards, finally reaching to the pillows as you felt it against your head.

Porco smiled seeing how you got under the covers in an instant. He quickly put some random show on, wanting background noise as he joined you in bed. “Come ‘ere.” He beckoned, making you lie beside him, his hand moving to your waist and others moving to cup your chest. 

“I love you.” You spoke slowly under the covers, he looked down to meet your small figure. The way you gave soft mewls at his action of massaging your right boob with his large hand.

“I love you too, baby.” He kissed the top of your head softly, watching how his love fell asleep.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[midnightsconspiracy]

Comrade

Comrade - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: You served with both Jay and Mouse but still serve after they are deployed, so you decide to surprise them at the district.

Warnings: Military, Minor Character Death

Word Count: 1026

Requested: Yes!!

‘If you aren't too busy could you write for Jay something where the reader was in the rangers as a medic with mouse and jay, but was a lot younger I’m thinking by like 10years or something so she stayed and served a couple more tours and now she surprises jay at the district still in uniform in front of everyone? If it’s not too much she could also be besties with mouse’

A/N: Someone send in a request for Chicago Fire or Med!!

Masterlist

Going into the Rangers was not something that you had always wanted. At first, you had dreamed of being a doctor, until your father who happened to be an ex-ranger himself, convinced you of the greater good you could achieve if you were to become a medic there instead. So, as it was your father, you reluctantly agreed to do just that. You’d heard of the friendship and comradery amongst the military, having first hand experience from seeing it with your dad and his friends, but you never envisioned yourself as having that, especially on your first day. However, despite your expectations, you had met two of the most incredible people, Jay and Mouse. Being a lot younger than them, you were apprehensive when they first approached you, but they were the only people who had introduced themselves, so you were stuck with that company. It hadn’t been all that bad though, as you turned out to be an unstoppable trio, spending every bit of your free time together. After some time, the dynamic changed, you had started to flirt with Jay more, finding him attractive with both his looks and personality. Fortunately for you, he had welcomed this, leading to a proper military romance. Mouse was a little bummed out at first, also harbouring a crush on you, but as soon as he heard the news broke out about his two best friends, the feelings dissipated, giddy about your newly formed relationship. You loved serving for your country alongside your best friend and boyfriend, it was your own little bubble of blissfulness, waiting to be popped. And it did.

It had started off as a normal mission, being instructed of what to prepare you for the day before, completely unaware of what was to come. But as you set off in your separate vehicles, something in your gut didn't feel right. Firstly, you had been in different vehicles to Jay and Mouse, something that never usually happened. But the second thing showed itself as the cars in front of you exploded, sending debris flying everywhere hitting you, causing you to blackout. You had woken up in a hospital bed, being informed by the nurses of all the death and destruction it had caused. Luck happened to be on your side it seemed, as the two boys you cherished dearly had also survived, but were severely injured. But it hadn't extended that far, as their injuries also caused them to discharged, leaving you to serve on your own.

At first it hard, your happiness had relied upon those boys, and now that they were gone you felt lost. But with each tour, you got more and more comfortable with the new people you were working with, that enjoyment finally coming back after a period without it. It still wasn't what you had before though, it wasn't just your best friend missing but also your boyfriend, wishing you didn't have to do this long distanced thing. You still made it work though, calling the both of them whenever you could bring a spark of joy whenever you heard their voices. And as your second tour wrapped up, you were filled with glee at the fact you would get to see them soon, every day inching closer to being able to feel them in real life.

Today was finally the day that you would see them both, and you were planning to do just that by surprised them at the district. So after getting off your flight, which you hadn't told them about, you drive to the station trembling with excitement. Walking through the door, you could feel every pair of eyes on you, having not bothering to change from your uniform in the process. The desk Sergeant had thanked you for your service, buzzing you up to the place that Jay had told you so much about. Reaching the top of the stairs, you again drew everyone's attention from their work, feeling small under their eyes as you didn't spot your boyfriend among them. But suddenly someone, grabbed you pulling you against them, and squeezing you tightly into their arms. Looking up you realised it was Mouse, immediately reciprocating the hug, having missed him equally as much.

"What are you doing back?" He asked excitedly, not believing what he saw, having told them you weren't going to be home for another couple of months.

"I may have lied about when the tour ended to surprise you, where's Jay?" Explaining to him what had happened, you were curious where your boyfriend was, thinking he would be amongst his colleagues.

"He's out on a lead at the moment, but he should be back soon, I can't believe your back, I missed you so much." He bought you back into his arms, his smile beaming so widely he looked like a mad man.

"Y/N?" A voice called as you broke out of the hug with Mouse, seeing your man hurdling towards you. Reaching you, he picked you up, throwing your arms around his neck, holding him tight. You never wanted to let go having missed him inexplicably, wanting to be as physically possible at that moment. After a couple of minutes, he put you down, taking your face into his hands and kissing you longingly.

"What are you doing back? God, I missed you so much!" He exclaimed, looking you over as if you weren't real. Spending time apart really exemplified how much you loved each other and the time you did spend together that much better. You explained to him as you had to Mouse, watching his face contort into a smile, knowing you would be home for at least a couple of weeks.

"Jay? Back to work," an unknown voice called from behind you, informing you that you should probably take your leave. Jay retreated to his desk to retrieve his keys, handing you them before kissing your forehead.

"I will see you later then" You replied, before smiling at them both and headed back to your car, knowing that tonight would be a huge night for all three of you celebrating, drinking and some much needed sex.

----------

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[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

Runs in the Family CH. One

Book: Chamber

Title: I’m a What?

Words: 2310

Warnings: None

A/N: This is the first chapter of my newest series. It is an eventual pairing of George x Reader with some unknown feelings and pining from both of them. Reader is Dudley’s little sister and a witch. Some things will stay the same while others will be changed. Enjoy!

Next Chapter

RitF Masterlist

Harry Potter Masterlist 

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

You were not excited for the night. Your dad was having guests over so you had to spend the evening in a stuffy, itchy dress, be on your best behavior, and you couldn’t even talk to Harry. Sighing, you smoothed the skirt and walked downstairs.

 “Mummy, do I have to wear this? It’s so itchy,” you said.

 “Yes, darling. Only the best for our guests. Now come and help me with our dessert.”

 “Alright.”

 You helped her finish up with the cake while your dad helped Dudley put on his tie. Upstairs, Hedwig was making noise and your dad called out to Harry angrily.

 “If you can’t control that bloody bird, it’ll have to go,” Vernon said.

 “She’s just bored, daddy,” you said from the kitchen.

 “[Y/n]’s right. If I could let her out for an hour or two, she’ll be fine.”

 “Not a chance. I don’t need you sending any messages to your freaky friends.”

 “I haven’t had any messages,” Harry said sadly. You frowned and was about to say something when your brother pushed past Harry.

 “Who would want to be friends with you?” Dudley said.

 “That’s not nice, Dudley.” You were a little angry at your brother for treating Harry this way. Dudley just ignored you and you rolled your eyes at the way he tried to eat the cake before the guests came.

 “Now, when the Masons arrive, where will you be, Petunia?” Vernon said.

 “In the lounge, waiting to welcome them into our home.”

 “[Y/n], where will you be?”

 “I’ll be with mummy in the lounge,” you said.

 “Good. Dudley?”

 “I’ll be waiting to open the door,” Dudley said with a flourish of his arm. That’s when the three of them turned to Harry.

 “And you?” Vernon said, voice full of hate.

 “I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise, and pretending that I don’t exist,” Harry said.

 “That’s right. This could be the day I make the biggest deal of my career and you will not mess it up.”

 Right then, the doorbell rang and Dudley rushed to the door.

 “I mean it, boy. Quiet!” Vernon then walked to join Dudley and you mouthed ‘sorry’ to Harry as he walked upstairs.

 The night went by slowly. Your dad kept making awful jokes and the Masons were eating it up. Sipping on your sparkling juice, you looked worriedly up at the ceiling when strange noises were coming out of Harry’s room. Vernon went up there once to shut him up but when you saw him chasing after the cake, your eyes widened.

 It took every bit of you not to laugh when the cake landed on Mrs. Mason. Everyone’s attention was on her but you saw Harry looking at something. You glanced down and saw a creature disappear before your eyes. The Masons left shortly after and your parents were furious at Harry for dropping the cake on Mrs. Masons head.

 ---

 The next day, Vernon installed a bunch of locks on the outside of Harry’s door and bars on the windows. You tried to stop him, even though you knew that nothing would. Watching, you shook your head before walking inside.

 That very night, you were woken up by a crash. You leapt out of bed and opened your door right as Vernon got to Harry’s door. It took him a minute to open all the locks and when he burst into Harry’s room, he grabbed Harry by the ankle.

 “Daddy, let go of him!” You said. You went to run into the room but Petunia stopped you.

 One of the boys taking Harry away yelled at the other to drive and that caused Vernon to fall out of the house. You and Dudley both yelled as he fell, worried that he was hurt. When you saw he wasn’t, you looked at Harry.

 You waved discreetly as they flew away. After they disappeared and it was confirmed that Vernon was alright, everyone went back to bed.

 ---

 A few days later, as you were eating breakfast, you heard three sharp knocks on the front door. Confused as to who was visiting, Vernon went to open the door.

 “Is this the residence of [y/n] Dursley?” A voice said.

 “Who’s asking?” Vernon said.

 “My name is Minerva McGonagall. I’m one of the professors at Hogwarts and I’m here to speak to Miss Dursley.”

 “What for?” Petunia asked. You could hear the shakiness in her voice and it worried you.

 “Mummy? Daddy? What’s going on?” You got up from the table and walked over to the door.

 “[Y/n], darling, go back to your food,” Petunia said.

 “Miss Dursley. I’m here to announce that you are a witch.” You looked at the woman with wide eyes and an open mouth.

 “No way. You’re kidding.”

 “I’m not. Your books and supplies are already bought and packed and in your trunk in your room. If you could come with me, I’ll take you to Ollivanders where we’ll get you your wand.”

 “No. Not a chance. You’re not taking my daughter anywhere!” Vernon said.

 “She has to go to Ollivanders and to Hogwarts. It’s imperative that she does,” McGonagall said.

 “Why?”

 “If Miss Dursley doesn’t get proper training on how to use her magic, bad things can happen. They won’t happen if she gets proper training.”

 You saw your dad start to argue, but you cut him off.

 “Daddy, I want to go. It’s my choice and you can’t stop me,” you said.

 “Alright,” Petunia said after a moment. Vernon opened his mouth but after a look from Petunia, he closed it. “I don’t like it either, but there’s nothing we can do. Take her.”

  “I’ll be outside,” McGonagall said. She tilted her head to your parents before walking away.

 You went to say something to your mom, but she avoided your gaze and said nothing. Your dad was fuming about the whole ordeal and Dudley just went back to shoveling food into his mouth. With a frown, you walked outside.

 ---

 After you had gotten your wand, you went back to your house. You were wanting to try out some spells from your textbooks, but you knew that if you did anything inside the house, your parents would have a cow. So you refrained from casting spells, but you did read through the entirety of most of your books.

 A few weeks later, Professor McGonagall came back.

 “It’s time for me to bring you to the school,” she said.

 “We arrive by train, right?” You asked her.

 “Yes. Are you all packed?” You nodded and ran upstairs to grab your trunk

 “I’ll visit when I can, okay? I love you,” you said, turning to your family. When Vernon said nothing, you felt tears start to form.

 “I love you, dear,” Petunia said as she gave you a hug. “We’ll see you for Christmas?”

 “Of course, mummy. Bye.” You waved to your family and took McGonagall’s outstretched hand and everything went black.

 ---

 When you came to, your head was pounding and you found yourself in the middle of King’s Cross.

 “Run between those two platforms and you’ll go to platform 9 ¾. The train leaves at precisely eleven. I’ll see you at the Sorting, Miss Dursley.”

 She disappeared with a sharp crack and you took a shaky breath before running through the wall. When you realized you had done it, you let out a laugh and walked to the train.

 Lugging your trunk onto the train, you found an empty compartment and sat down. You figured you had some time to kill seeing as it was only half past ten so you took out your textbooks and started to read. It was only when the train was about to pull away did someone else come into the compartment with you.

 “Mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is full,” someone said.

 “Of course.” You looked up and were face to face with two of the boys that helped Harry escape.

 “It’s you!” You said. “You were in the flying car that took Harry a couple nights ago.”

 “You’re his cousin, aren’t you?” One of them said.

 “I am. My name’s [y/n] Dursley.”

 “Fred Weasley.”

 “George Weasley.”

 “It’s nice to meet you,” you said, a smile on your face.

 ---

 “Harry didn’t tell us that you were a witch,” Fred said.

 “I didn’t even know until a couple weeks ago, actually. It came as a surprise and my parents didn’t like it.”

 “What all do you know about Hogwarts?” Fred asked.

 “I know that you’re separated into Houses. Harry is in Gryffindor, I believe. You also have a lot of classes and a game called Quidditch.”

 “You know about Quidditch?” Both the twins said.

 “I do. It seems fascinating and I’d love to play it. I’ve always wanted to be able to fly.”

 “What House do you think you’ll be? Freddie and I are in Gryffindor.”

 “I couldn’t tell you. To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. There are five, right?”

 “Four. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff.”

 “Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

 “You don’t want to be in Slytherin,” Fred said.

 “Why not?”

 “That’s the House that has made the most dark wizards,” George said.

 “You-Know-Who himself was a Slytherin along with all of his followers.”

 “Loads of bad people.”

 You stared at them for a minute before shivering.

 “Let’s hope I don’t get into Slytherin,” you said with a laugh.

 The rest of the ride was spent laughing and eating sweets. Lee Jordan, one of the twins’ friends, came into the compartment halfway through the ride. Once he found out that you hadn’t had any magical sweets before, he bought nearly the entire trolley for you to try. You didn’t want the train to stop but it did an hour later.

 Looking at the castle, awe in your eyes, you turned to the twins.

 “You’ll be fine,” George said.

 “Ginny, our sister, is starting Hogwarts this year too.”

 George called Ginny over and introduced you to her before he left with Fred and Lee.

 “Hello. It���s nice to meet you,” you said.

 “Likewise.”

 The two of you made small talk the entire way across the lake and up into the castle until you saw Professor McGonagall. She was standing at the top of the stairs, holding a giant scroll of paper.

 “In just a few minutes, we will walk into the Great Hall. When I call your name, you will walk forward and place the Sorting Hat on your head. It will tell you what House you belong in and you will go sit with that House.” The doors opened behind McGonagall. “Come on. Follow me.”

 You followed her, gripping your robes tightly. McGonagall was a few names in when she called yours. Swallowing harshly, you walked up as sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed on your head and you took a shaky breath.

 “Where to put you,” the hat said. “You have a lot of ambition, but even more kindness. Patience too. I think I’ll put you in Hufflepuff!”

 The last word was shouted and you let out a laugh before getting off of the stool and walking over to the Hufflepuff table. The sorting was over soon and then the feast began. Your eyes widened as the food appeared right in front of you and on your plate.

 “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

 “It is.” You looked to your left and saw a hand being held out to you.

 “I’m Cedric Diggory,” he said.

 “[Y/n] Dursley. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand and he gave you a smile.

 “Nice to meet you too.”

 ---

 The next morning, you were led down to the Great Hall by your new friend Cedric. You saw Harry and after asking Cedric if it was allowed to sit at another Houses table, you ran over to him.

 “Harry!”

 “[Y/n]? What are you doing here?” Harry asked as he gave you a hug.

 “Well, a couple days after you left, Professor McGonagall came by the house and said that I was a witch. Mummy convinced dad to let me go and here I am! You weren’t on the train or at dinner. Where were you?”

 “I couldn’t get onto the platform. Ron couldn’t either. And before that, it wasn’t me who threw the cake onto Mrs. Masons head. It was a house-elf.”

 “A house-elf? I knew I saw something!”

 “Yeah. So Ron had the idea to take the car and fly to Hogwarts. We flew into a tree, it fought back, and now the car is somewhere in the forest. We were almost expelled but we just got detention and a letter back home,” Harry said.

 “Well I’m glad that you’re not expelled.” You were going to say more when the twins walked up to you and put their arms around your shoulders.

 “[Y/n].”

 “You made it in Hufflepuff, I see,” Fred said.

 “Shame it wasn’t Gryffindor,” George teased.

 “I’m just glad it wasn’t Slytherin,” you said with a laugh.

 “You know the twins already?” Harry asked.

 “I do. They sat with me on the train.”

 “Come on, let’s eat.”

 The twins led you to the table and you sat between them. Ron and Hermione came up a minute later. You began to eat while Ron was taping his wand together. That’s when Ron got an owl.

 “Look, everyone. Weasley’s got himself a Howler.”

 “Howler?” You asked.

 “Just wait,” George said.

 “It’s gonna get loud.”

 And loud it was. The letter started screaming at Ron, saying that he was in so much trouble. After it was done, it blew a raspberry at him and tore itself up.

 “Well, you weren’t lying about it being loud,” you said after a few seconds.

 “At least we won’t have to worry about getting one of those from home,” Harry said. You laughed and shook your head.

[hobiwonder]

Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie​ AU 

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice  right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to. 

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces.  The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was.  A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

[rbbalmung]

Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Get to know ______

Guys, it’s time for my favourite pokemon ship. Prepare for loads of fluff. 

Get to Know Gloria x Hop (Postwickshipping/Hpyu): 

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? I headcannon that Gloria really likes pokemon plushies, so Hop is always unconsciously checking the stuffed animal section of stores to see if there’s any she doesn’t have. Gloria tries really hard to get him books that pertain to his research, but she really has no clue what he studies aside from the fact that it’s legendary pokemon (Legendary Pokemon are his focus). 

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Gloria! They are the cuddliest couple ever. There’s about a foot size difference between them, so she fits perfectly in his lap. (Hop is def the little spoon, tho). 

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? TBH, they would both walk around the house half naked. They’re comfort first babies, so you know Gloria’s bra is coming off and Hop is discarding his work clothes the second their door is closed. I think it’s kind of a casual thing for them, though. They’ve known each other long enough that this kind of thing doesn’t bother them. 

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Gloria has to drag Hop’s ass to bed pretty much every night. They’re both busy people, but we all know that Hop would lose track of time while working on his thesis. It is a fact that if Gloria doesn’t come to get him, he will fall asleep on his desk. 

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? They’re actually both pretty good cooks (Gloria’s mama owns a restaurant in Wedgehurst and Hop’s mom is obsessed with cooking), but I think Hop would probably be the one to burn all the food. The only reason why is because he has a harder time focusing solely on cooking instead of trying to multitask. Now, baking is a whole other story. They’re both terrible at it. 

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Gloria would be the one to read the prompts and Hop would be the denier (he secretly thinks it’s really cute whenever she does it). 

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Gloria. 100% Gloria. She is constantly cold and has a passion for stealing Hop’s hoodies. He thinks its adorable because they’re always really big on her. 

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Hop would be the errand runner and Gloria would make sure he remembered everything. It goes back to Hop’s mind being a million places at once and Gloria hyper focusing on one thing at a time. 

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Hop would drive and Gloria would give directions for similar reasons to the question above. 

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Hop doodles Gloria sometimes to keep his hands busy. It’s kind of an absent minded thing for him to do while reading an article/book. Once Sonia caught him doing it, and when I say she teases him relentlessly, I mean it. Hop absolutely does not let Gloria see these doodles (they’re very cutesy and he’d die of embarrassment). 

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? Hop would be the backflipper and Gloria would be the follower. Think back to their GPL season: Hop was blazing ahead at all times without a care in the world. Gloria is the slowest traveler in the world because she likes talking to everyone and visiting all the stores.  

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? Neither of them can hold their alcohol, but Hop at least has more body mass than Gloria. They’re a pair of lightweights and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. (Let’s be real: Bede has to be the one to make sure they get home). 

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? Gloria. I actually believe that Gloria would keep her last name even after she and Hop get married because it belongs to her mama (after the divorce, they both changed their last names to match her mama’s maiden name). Hop is also a proud Hoffman, so he wouldn’t use the name Park. However, everyone else will mix it up. Gloria gets called “Mrs. Hoffman” all the time if she’s arriving for restaurant reservations or something of the like. Newer reporters/young children call Hop “Mr. Park” because they just assume Park was his last name. 

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? Neither of them are scared of bug pokemon. 

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? HOP. I mentioned it earlier, but Gloria is always cold. Bede asks why he doesn’t just make Gloria bring her own jacket and Hop replies that he likes it when she wears his jacket (they’re freaking sappy).  

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? Pft. Leon? Please. By this point, he’s become the big brother of Gloria as well. The League members are a completely different story. They all like Hop, but since Gloria is one of their younger members and the biggest sweetheart, they’re a protective bunch (Especially Melony and Gordie). 

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Gloria, but it didn’t go well. It was right before he was leaving to finish up high school studying abroad, and the timing wasn’t right (aka Hop turned her down because he hadn’t yet realised his feelings for her). Gloria tries her best to move on but never truly gets over him. Luckily, his feelings hit him like a bag of bricks to the stomach when they reunite a couple years later.  

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? The best. They would definitely be the cool parents (I mean, come on. They’re the freaking heroes of Galar!). I think they’d also be super supportive of their child’s choices. 10/10. They’re made to be parents. (Hop would especially want to be a good dad. He’s initially nervous because he never knew his dad and thinks he might mess up, but Gloria reassures him that he’s doing a good job). 

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Hop would be Mr. Perfect Grammar. Gloria would use mostly good grammar, but her texts would be littered with emojis. 

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? Hop is the more confrontational of the two. Gloria tends to believe that people are only mean to others if something bad is happening in their life, but Hop will jump from 0 to 100 if someone even looks at Gloria funny.  

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Gloria likes Hop’s bad puns, so everyone else has to cringe in discomfort at the oblivious pair. 

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? Hop. Gloria likes catching pokemon and sending them on poke jobs, so there’s a new member to their family at least once a week. 

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Hop. He’s the only one she would show vulnerability to, and he makes sure not to make her feel ashamed of it. (also, Gloria absolutely could not carry Hop. He’s like, a foot taller than her).  

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Both! They’re very supportive of each other to help ease the other’s insecurities. Hop gets really invested in her pokemon matches and Gloria throws him a little celebration every time he finishes a project.  

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Gloria. Since Hop never goes to sleep at night, it is very common for him to take 5 minute power naps without even realising it. Gloria definitely takes pictures when it happens as a reflex (They were long distance for the first 4 years of their relationship) because she wants to be able to look back at their memories together.  Like Gloria doesn’t know about Hop’s doodles of her, Hop doesn’t know about her phone album of him. 

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Gloria? I think they both grow into their separate styles as the get older, but Gloria would push Hop to wear more colourful things. Sonia once told Hop that a man should never tell a woman what to wear because it’s rude. I don’t think Gloria would mind if he suggested something, but he is way too nervous to do it (Sonia scarred him).   

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Hop is very nervous around Urshifu and Calyrex. Urshifu because he’s terrifying, large, and very protective of Gloria. Calyrex because the pokemon will take over his body without warning to tell Gloria something.  

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Hop! If Gloria held it, Hop’s head would be in the umbrella. 

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? Oh my gosh, they’d go everywhere. I think that after Gloria steps down as champion, they travel to all the different regions for at least a couple of years. Gloria would be the one to take pictures and make a little scrapbook when they return home.  

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[cloud-9ine]

Roses are pretty cliché, don't you think? (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - bakugo katsuki x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - swearing, very slight angst

⤷ summary - bakugo was already out of his element when he went to buy flowers; so he didn’t take kindly to you criticising his preference for roses

⤷ word count - 2.2k+

⤷ notes - i have never written bakugo before and GOD is this hard. i imagine older him would be a lot calmer and a lot less quick to blowing something up but he still feels ooc. tell me what you think!

⤷ pt 1, pt 2

The card Bakugo held was slightly crumpled within his clenched fist. The pretty pastels evidently not enough to calm his fired nerves. It was Mina’s idea, he reasoned, she was the one that knew what girls liked. If anything went wrong, then it was her fault.

Although, if it was up to him, he probably would never apologise. 

Bakugo knew he was an asshole. He knew he fucked up. He also knew he would sooner die than admit it. It was a fatal flaw that he never fully grew out of, much to the chagrin of both himself and his friends. The self-loathing was hard to ignore in the dark veil of the night, nor the quiet light of the morning, when the tension lay as thick as the pillows that separated them.

“Pfft, you look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

He huffed at the words from the man next to him, the snicker that left his lips only serving to spike his emotions further. 

“Shut it, sparky.” Denki only regarded his insult with a small laugh, shaking his head lightly. 

“Come on, you don’t have to look so scared. (Y/N)’s super nice, not to mention cute as a button too!” he grinned, clapping a couple times out of excitement. Bakugo sighed, cramming the business card in his front pocket without care. 

“I don’t think Kyoka would be too happy to hear that.” Denki sniggered, waving a hand around dismissively.

“If I didn’t know my wife any better, I would say the same, but you and me both know that she’d agree with me.” The impish grin on his lips was enough to make Bakugo roll his eyes.

“Where is this place?” Denki didn’t fail to notice the way he changed the subject, but for concern of his own safety, he didn’t draw attention to it.

“It’s literally right there,” vermillion eyes landed on the building in front of him, a quaint shop tucked in between two office buildings. The outside was a remarkable shade of lavender, with a small chalk-board sign outside painted with bluebells woven between opening times. 

“Oh.” A light tinkle of a bell rang out from the door as Denki pushed inside the shop, a quirk that wasn’t commonly seen with more modern establishments. Immediately upon entering the threshold into the store, Bakugo was pummelled with the overwhelmingly cloying scent of pollen. 

Resisting the urge to cough out of a begrudging politeness, he looked around. It was a small place, with bouquets of all different colours and types jumping from the tables in a dazzling a bounty of delight. In the centre of the back wall protruded the front desk, attached to the left of which was a small glass case filled with sweet-looking pastries and cakes. There was a small table in front of it, lined with a chequered table cloth, and two beautifully crafted wooden chairs tucked underneath the table with care.

“Long time no see, Denki,” Bakugo’s attention snapped to the presence behind the counter, where you leaned on your elbows with an easy smile on your face. Muted pink blouse tucked into a high-waist black skirt partnered with a cute little bow wrapped underneath your collar of a similar colour and you were already beginning to remind Bakugo of someone he knew quite well. It looked like a uniform, but it was informal enough to appear flattering.

“(Y/N)! How have you been?” Denki cried, sauntering over to the counter with his arms thrown wide in the expectance of a hug. You laughed, accepting the gesture with little hesitation.

“You here to pick up your little birthday gift for Kyoka?” you questioned once pulling away, eyes darting over to Bakugo and narrowing for a second before quickly returning to the other costumer. He nodded exuberantly, bright beam on his face.

“Of course! I’m excited to see what you thought up,” you grinned with a small nod of acknowledgement. 

“Great, I’ll be right back.” With that, you shuffled to a door behind the counter, swiftly stealing away to the small room at the back of the store. 

“She has more flowers in there?” Bakugo muttered, brows furrowing. Denki hummed, leaning on the counter whilst idly tapping his cheek.

“Yep. Flowers everywhere here.” He only nodded, eyes returning back to his surroundings. In less than a minute you had returned, clasped in your hands a beautiful bouquet with the stalks wrapped in brown paper. All Bakugo could see was a mess of purple and white with an air of coordination that tied it together, but it was enough to make Denki squeal.

“Oh, that’s stunning! What flowers are they?” you smiled, placing down the bouquet on the counter in front of him.

“Well, Kyoka’s a simple lady, so I used purple irises as the centre piece-” 

“That’s her favourite flower!” you snickered, rolling your eyes at the blonde’s words..

“Well, duh? Are you really surprised that I remembered?” you shook your head before continuing, “It’s hard to find colours that go well with purple without it looking too unconventional, so I complimented them with baby breaths and white jasmines, and magnolias in the middle to bring out a contrast in the yellow.” Denki was already pulling out his wallet before you had even finished.

“This is perfect, thank you so much! She’s gonna love them!” your smile turned smug.

“Of course she is, there’s no way I could disappoint a costumer,” Bakugo didn’t fail to notice the teasing coo in your voice, a proud glow on your face that he recognised was often replicated on his own expression, “will that be all?” Denki shook his head, handing you an indiscernible amount of money which you accepted before pushing half back. It seemed not even years on Denki was able to do simple math.

“Not all! I want some cake and my friend Katsuki here needs his own flowers!” Bakugo lurched forward from the rough shove from Denki, sending him a venomous glare with a small growl. Your eyes were amused as they landed on him, a smirk pulling on your lips.

“Hey, nice to meet you, Mr. Bakugo.” Bakugo wasn’t surprised you knew of him (being an incredibly successful pro hero and all) but the lilt to your voice as you drawled his name didn’t sit right, as if you were goading him in to ridicule. 

“Likewise.” You delicately pushed aside Denki’s bouquet to fully face Bakugo, the former having already been distracted by the sweet treats in the case.

“What can I do for you?” He straightened his back, shoulders tensing. He didn’t exactly know what he needed, having only bought flowers once or twice before for his mum. It was an underlying itch of feeling out of place that brought his next words forth, an urge to leave as soon as he could. 

“Roses, I guess. Red.” You snickered, and Bakugo’s eyes narrowed, “What?” You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Roses are pretty cliché, don’t you think?” 

What.

Bakugo could feel the snarl that worked it’s way onto his face, a familiar tick of irritation welling up in his chest, only exacerbated by the mocking expression painted on your face.

“She’s right.” Denki called from his position crouched on the floor, gaze not even on him as he eagerly eyed a strawberry shortcake. 

“Didn’t need your input, dumbass!” He snapped, face heating at the bemused look on your face. It wasn’t often he felt embarrassed, and it was even less common that Denki would have a part to play in it.

“I’m just saying it’s better just to let her have free reign, that’s what I do.” Bakugo considered the words of his friend for a moment, before letting out a begrudging sigh, eyebrow twitching as he turned back to you. 

“Fine.” You tilted your head, leaning forward, similar to how his friend had stood earlier.

“So, why are you buying flowers?” Bakugo grunted, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze.

“An apology gift. For my girlfriend.” You whistled, the noise pounding at the front of his skull.

“Damn, okay, how long have you guys been together?” Denki pulled out a chair, allowing Bakugo to sit down in front of the table as you pulled out a small notebook. 

“Since just after high school,” he muttered, resting his chin on his palm as he fiddled with the end of the table cloth, “it was great at the start but now we seem to be arguing more and more.” 

He shut his mouth. He wasn’t quite sure why he started to talk- it wasn’t like him to indulge a stranger in his life story. He bristled, resolve hardening.

“Why does it matter, anyway?” you hummed, looking around thoughtfully.

“Just trust the process. Describe this girl.”

“She would love this place.” Bakugo responded earnestly, a hollow laugh pushing past his lips as you nodded. It didn’t seem like much, but you got to work.

“Denki, pass me that bundle of tulips, please,” Denki nodded, obediently standing and pulling the tulips from one of the stands at the side of the room and pushing it towards you. You nodded your thanks, gaze returning back to Bakugo, who was watching you with a gaze eerily akin to suspicion.

“Look, this is gonna be a lot more awkward if you keep staring at me,” you grinned as he tutted, looking away. 

“I want that strawberry shortcake,” Denki exclaimed once you had settled again. Bakugo resisted the urge to roll his eyes while you just smiled. 

“Sure, let me get that for you,” you crouched down behind the glass case, “anything for you, Bakugo?” 

“No.” he responded, eyes narrowing at the cheeky smirk Denki shot at him. You pulled out the cake, rested delicately on a china plate with raspberry patterns coiled around the edge.

“Let me give you a drink, at least,” you offered, moving to the back room without giving him a moment to respond, and quickly reappearing with a teacup and saucer, “I had some lavender tea brewing. It soothes anxiety,” you passed the tea alongside the cake to Denki, who brought it back to their table with a grateful nod. 

Bakugo sighed as Denki placed the saucer down in front of him, a look of disdain on his face.

“Sugar’s on the table,” you called, snickering as you saw the small look of surprise on his face as he tasted the drink. Returning back to your work station, you fiddled with the tulips, taking some out and placing them in a glass vase. You moved out from behind the counter, flitting around the room and mulling over each flower.

Bakugo watched you with subtle interest, eyes narrowing when you shook your head or made a small noise of disdain. It was a fitting distraction from the loud mouthed Denki across from him, who was relentlessly chatting in between bites.

Seemingly having settled on several flowers, you moved back over to the tulips, weaving them together with pink and white bows in a way that Bakugo couldn’t begin to understand. 

The explosive blonde tended to pride himself on his achievements- his ability to become skilled in anything and everything carrying him through his life. But apparently flower arranging was where he fell short, and the annoyance of this fact making his nerves tick.

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed until you were done, hands never relenting even for a second as you worked, but it was evident that your project was finished when you took a step back to admire the bouquet. Your eyes flashed to him for a second, scouring his face for approval. 

Again, Bakugo didn’t really understand the big deal about flowers, but the passion in which you conducted yourself when producing them was something that he could respect. He stood, moving to get a closer look at what you had made.

“What’s in it?” you grinned, seemingly pleased at his fairly lackadaisical reaction. 

“Well, I used pink tulips as the base, and then I complimented them with white carnations and freesia. I didn’t want to add a contrast because if this is an apology, I wanted it to be fairly low-key, but still pretty. Do you like it?” He nodded, listening to the way you huffed in pride.

“Cool! Since it’s your first time, and because I like you, it’s free of charge, but just this once,” you gave him a pointed look, as if you were expecting to see him again.

“Thank you, I’m sure she’ll love them.” You nodded in acknowledgement, wrapping both bouquets in a protective layer before handing them out. Denki appeared beside you, accepting the flowers with a large grin. 

“I’ll see you later, (Y/N)! You’re coming, right?” 

“Yep, I’ll see you then,” you turned to Bakugo, eyes flashing with something he couldn’t discern, “I’ll see you later, too.” He huffed out something similar to an agreement, still unsure of his standing within your views. 

“Sure. Thanks again for the flowers.” Another grin.

“You’re welcome. Hope she likes them.” 

“Me too.” 

[nsheetee]

Love Again

Pairing: Jisung x Reader Genre: Fluff, slight Angst Length: 3.2k Summary: You and Jisung are stuck in his family’s old beach house because of an unexpected storm, and are forced to confront what happened between you two six months ago. Key: section in italics indicate the scene happened in the past A/N: this is for all of my followers who cried over 20cm haha, I hope you all enjoy ♡

Love Again is the epilogue to 20cm, please read that story first before continuing 

December 12th, 4:34pm

Jisung quietly walks along the shore of the beach, cold sea breeze blowing against his side and sand shifting with every step under his feet. He sniffs and looks out to the water, digging his hands further into his pockets before stopping completely. To any other person, this would be just a random spot on the beach, an area that looks identical to any other along this long coastline, but to Jisung this would be a spot that is forever remembered in his heart.

This is where he kissed you for the first time.

The memory is imprinted in his mind. It replays during his most vulnerable moments: before he falls asleep, the days he feels like the world is against him, the times when he thinks of his first love. The memory is so sweet yet so bitter that Jisung can’t help but keep it close to his heart.

He sighs heavily while looking around the empty and cold beach, as if waiting for something that will never happen, and then turns around and walks back to the beach house.

This house had so many precious memories, not just of you, but of times he spent his childhood here. Every summer he would look forward to spending time at the beach and wasting the days away in the warm sun. Now, his parents have decided to sell the beach house, and Jisung volunteered to drive over and pick up any of his family’s personal belongings before the new owners arrive.

Jisung had a reason for volunteering; he hoped that picking up all of his belongings could be a way of closing the part of his life that lived here. He wanted those memories to only live in his head, not out and about in this house.

He digs out the old keys from his pocket and unlocks the front door, walking into the empty beach house. The dim weather outside permeates in, and dust floats in the air and makes Jisung cough a bit. The ocean is so close that Jisung can hear the thundering waves hit the shore from the storm brewing on the horizon of the ocean when he opens the back patio doors.

He lets fresh air in and looks around the dining and living room area, unsure of where to start packing, or if he even has any energy to do anything from driving all the way from the city. Before he can think too much, he hears a car park outside and then a car door open and shut. Jisung tilts his head and walks to the front door, wondering who just pulled up.

He pulls the front door open, his grip loosens on the door knob when he recognizes who is standing on the other side, the door hitting the wall with a loud bang as Jisung stands in shock.

“Bumble bee?” He asks in disbelief. You’re still standing outside, the screen door separating you and Jisung from each other, but you can hear him. You have the urge to get back into your car and drive away, but your shock keeps you from moving.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung realizes how cold his words sound only after he utters them, and he doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his tone.

“Your mom called my mom. There’s some of our stuff here, too… from years ago.” You explain, still awkwardly standing on the porch while Jisung is inside. Drops of rain start to fall, making you tilt your head up to the sky and watch the dark and overflowing clouds drip down onto the earth. “I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. I’ll just come back in a few days-”

“Wait.” Jisung hasn’t seen you in almost six months, but you haven’t changed much. Your hair grew a little longer and your face shrunk a bit. Jisung wonders if you’ve been eating well. Despite what happened the last time you saw each other, Jisung’s heart still races and his head gets a bit fuzzy at the sight of you.

Is Jisung stupid for still harbouring feelings for you, especially after you hurt him and didn’t contact him for almost six months? Maybe, but he’d be stupid for you any day.

“It’s supposed to storm soon, you shouldn’t drive back in the rain. Just… stay here for the night.” Jisung hates how he sounds like he’s pleading. More than anything, he wants to feel that rush of adrenaline from when you touch him, he just wants to be loved by you again like you did the last time you two were in this house. He craves that feeling, and he craves it only from you.

“Is that okay? Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, and long as you are.”

Just as the rain starts beating down, you step into the house and shut the door behind you. Jisung walks to the back patio door and closes it before any rain can get inside. You two stand in silence in the house, not sure about how both of your existences can fit into such a small space again. Your eyes looking everywhere but at each other.

“I’ll go find our stuff and start packing. I can use those boxes, right?” You point to some cardboard over on the left side of the room. Jisung meekly nods, watching as you put together a box and walk upstairs. After you leave, he mingles by the patio door and wonders about how everything went so haywire.

You were best friends for so long, confining in each other and having fun together. He misses that, too. Not just the deeper feelings he shares with you, but he misses the fun he has with you; how everything feels exciting when you’re around. He feels comfortable with you, as a person, friend, and lover. Jisung feels bitter about how he lost something as precious as that in his life.

The house is quiet as you two gather up your belongings and pack them into cardboard boxes. The storm outside shakes the house every once in a while, and Jisung catches glimpses of the roaring ocean whenever he looks out a window. Jisung isn’t sure how much time has passed, but it’s definitely night time when the lights and power turn off.

“Bumb— Y/N? Where are you?” Jisung calls out in the house when the flickering of the lights stops and the whole house is covered in darkness.

“Master bedroom.” You call out, not moving from your spot to avoid stepping on something and hurting yourself in the dark. Jisung walks in with a flashlight and lights the way out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

Now that the lights are off and the heat in the house is slowly diminishing, the storm outside is scarier than before. You tug your cardigan around you to keep some body warmth when the landline phone in the kitchens starts ringing. Jisung shines the light for you to walk over and answer it, watching as you listen intently and then hang up.

“That was the power company. They’ll have the power back on before midnight.” Jisung nods, and you both promptly jump when lightning strikes outside and thunder follows it shortly after.

“So, do you want some hot chocolate?” Jisung asks, being able to see you tilt your head thanks to his flashlight.

“How will we boil water?”

“The stove has gas.” Jisung shines the light over to the stove. “It’s an old piece of junk but it works without electricity.” Jisung shines the light back to you, his heart skipping a beat when you smile at him for the first time this whole day. You still don’t answer his question, wrapping your arms around yourself and biting your lip awkwardly.

“Hey, we can’t pack in the dark, it’ll get cold soon, and I don’t think I’ll be able to go to sleep with the storm happening outside. Let’s just have some hot chocolate.”

A few minutes later, the kettle on the stove is screeching for attention and you’re looking around the kitchen for some candles to light the kitchen table. Jisung brings the mugs full of hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows on top over to the table as you’re igniting a match and lighting the two candles you found. You sit next to each other, the view of the dark and angry ocean visible through the patio doors from your spot.

“Are these the mugs we got at Disney World?” You comment, looking at your own cup and then glancing at Jisung’s. You remember several years ago when your families went to Disney World for a vacation and you bought mugs as souvenirs, but quickly misplaced them and wondered where they went.

“Yeah, I found them in the back of the cupboard. Do you remember when we bought these? Our parents gave us cash to buy toys or stuffed animals or whatever, and they looked so shocked when we brought back two matching mugs instead.” You do remember, and the memory makes both of you laugh, reminiscing about how your parents called you and Jisung “strange” for not getting toys with the free money they gave you.

For a second, you and Jisung just live in the present, laughing at old memories and not worrying about the situation you’re in. Jisung loves how no matter what is happening, you can make him forget it all and just focus on you. The thunder from outside brings you two back to reality. You sit in silence, for a few moments and watch the waves hit the shore outside, the view slightly altered by the rain drops that managed to land on the clear patio door.

“Why didn’t you call?” Jisung doesn’t know what prompts him to ask the question, other than that it has been on his mind for ages. He watches you slowly put your mug down and look at him, eyes wide and calculating, like you’re thinking about how much you should tell him. You’re remembering the day that Jisung left, when you sobbed about your bitter first love under your oak tree and then walked inside of your house in tears.

“Y/N!” Your mother called out, watching you walk into the house from the porch door and stand in the middle of the kitchen, clothes dripping and boots muddy. She rushes to the cupboard in the hallway and pulls out a few towels, wrapping you in them and making you sit down at the kitchen table to take off your muddy shoes.

“Goodness, I said you would get caught in the rain, but no, you didn’t listen.” She tuts, patting you dry and tossling your hair. You don’t think she realizes that the wetness on your face is from your tears and that your eyes are red from crying, but maybe it’s better that she doesn’t ask questions about that. Despite her fussing over you, you still see the piece of paper lying on the kitchen table next to you.

“What’s that?” You ask, eyeing the paper with digits scratched on it in familiar handwriting.

“Jisung came back in before he left. He wanted to give that to you, but you already left for Uncle Henry’s.” Picking it up, your pruney fingertips leave the paper wet but still readable as you look at the numbers.

“Ugh, and look at my floor! Y/N, you’re mopping this up after you go take a warm shower.” Your mother sighs, but you barely hear her as you look at the piece of paper.

This is your one way of connecting to Jisung. You could call him tomorrow and hear his voice. You could call him next week and apologize. You could call him in a month and make a plan to meet up. There is so much you can do with this phone number, but you can’t find the will to save it.

The last words you said to Jisung ran through your head, “I’m sorry, Jisung. I think fate is pulling us apart. Who are we to go against that?” You hurt yourself just thinking about how ruthless you were to someone who just confessed their feelings to you.

You got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the trash can and taking one last look at the piece of paper before throwing it away. You can’t bring yourself to imagine that Jisung would still want to talk to you after all the things you said to him.

“I- I didn’t know what to say to you.” You finally answer Jisung’s question after a moment of silence between you two. “Like, ‘Hey, remember me? The girl who broke your heart and didn’t say goodbye to you? Yeah, wanna talk?’ That just… isn’t right.”

“I was waiting for your call. I answered every random phone number that called me because it could’ve been yours.” Jisung laughs, “I got put onto so many spam lists.” You smile at him, but it pains you to know that Jisung was patiently waiting for you when you never even thought about calling him.

You turn back to your hot chocolate, unsure of what to say. Jisung finally understands what is keeping you back; what is making you look so small and awkward in his presence.

You feel guilty.

It’s not a doubt that you broke his heart by using an excuse as silly as fate to justify your fears. But unlike Jisung, who has accepted your words, you seem to still live in the past, those words you told him still haunting you. Jisung doesn’t want you to be stuck in that time, he wants you to face the moment and figure things out now.

Jisung scoots his chair closer to you, the side of his face illuminated by the candles that are quickly dimming out. It brings your attention back to him as he tries to put his words together.

“Call me an idiot, but I still have feelings for you.” His sudden confession makes your eyebrows rise and your heart jump into your throat and then plummet down into your tummy. “When you said that we shouldn’t try to make this work because fate wasn’t on our side, it hurt, I’ll admit that, but it didn’t stop me from feeling love towards you.” You feel stupid for the tears coming to your eyes and you look away to wipe them. Jisung lightly places his hand on the side of your face and brings your gaze back to him.

“Don’t look away. Don’t hide your tears from me.” He wipes away the wet stains on your cheeks. “It’s okay if you still think we shouldn’t be together because fate doesn’t want us to. It’s okay if you still think we should go to our own lives and stay that way. But it’s not okay to think that I feel any less about you because of what you said to me. You’ll always be important to me. I’m so in love with you that I’ll do anything for you at this point.”

You feel like you just won a marathon, or like you woke up without an alarm clock for the first time in your life, or like your favorite song came on shuffle just when you were thinking about it; all of those feelings multiplied by a thousand. You feel energized and excited and so deep in your feelings for Jisung. How did you get so lucky to have someone like him in your life? You’re not sure, but one thought comes to the forefront of your mind as you look into his sincere eyes: You never want to let him go ever again.

“I love you, too. I never got to say it before. I’m sorry. I love you, too.” Jisung didn’t even realize you never said that phrase back to him, it just felt as if the fact didn’t need to be put into words to be known between you two. But now that the words are out, Jisung feels himself turn soft with adoration for you. He leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, the weather outside no longer bothering you as you sit in the dim candlelight. No more words are needed to express how gratifying and nice it feels to sit next to each other, reconnected, once again.

Jisung wakes up the next morning with the sun in his eyes. He digs his fingers through his hair as he sits up and stretches, and then immediately looks at the spot to his left. The area where you had fallen asleep last night is empty, and Jisung stays quiet for a moment to hear if you’re moving around the house.

When he hears nothing, he pushes the blankets off of him and gets up from the bed to wander down the stairs and to the kitchen. You’re nowhere to be seen and Jisung begins to panic, until he catches a glimpse outside of the patio doors of someone standing on the beach, facing the water.

“Y/N!” He calls out against the harsh wind as he walks through the sand towards you, meeting you and tugging a jacket over your shoulders. “You need to wear this, it’s too cold out.” He keeps his arms around you, holding the jacket over you. His chin rests on your head as you both cuddle against the cold winds, the shining sun doing nothing to heat you up. With the calm waves hitting the shore, no one would believe there was a bad storm here just a few hours ago.

“I thought you left me.” Jisung whispers as he leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You two had spent the night in the same bed under the excuse that it would be warmer than sleeping alone, since the power had not yet turned on when you decided to sleep. In reality, you just didn’t want to leave Jisung and he didn’t want to leave you, not when you just got each other back.

“Never. I’ll never do that again.” Your answer fulfills his comment, but it also answers what you were talking about last night. It’s scary to look up at Jisung and think about how much unknown is ahead of you, but it’s comforting to know that Jisung is the one that will be there to jump every hurdle with you.

Keeping the zippers of your coat in his hands, Jisung turns you away from the water to face him. He remembers how timid and shy he was the first time you two were staring at each other like this, in this exact same spot. Now, he feels that same bashfulness possess him, but the fondness and love for you over powers it, making him lean in and connect his lips with yours for the second time in his life.

He kisses you sweetly, warming you up from the inside out, making you feel like you’re in an oven rather than on a cold beach in December. Soon, his kisses turn needier and he pulls you closer, chest to chest and noses scrunching together. You both smile, scared and in love and awaiting your unsure future together. You never imagined being stuck in a beach house during a storm could bring you to your senses, and could bring your lover back to you.

Maybe that’s what fate had planned for you all along.

[s-and-n-writes]

another long day

crimson and bluebell: part two

summary:

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila’s constant berating and Madame Rossi’s preferential care of her ‘angel-like’ daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It’s like she’s Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn’t even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links:

< previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

a/n: so hi again, it’s me, n! im so so so sorry that i didn’t post for a long time, school caught up with me and everything’s getting v stressful these days. regardless, my new year’s resolution is to post more of these, and i’ll actively make an effort to do that hehe, in the meantime, enjoy!

also i’m appalled at the fact that this was 15 pages long and took more than a month to write how are you doing

Marinette had thought that the whole coffee spill, glass breaking fiasco would be relatively easy to clean.

She was wrong.

It takes her all of 10 minutes to clean up the glass, and another 20 minutes to try and clean up the coffee.

Key word: try.

Marinette ends up at school 30 minutes late, the coffee-stained carpet rolled off to the side at home, effectively ruined. She hasn’t even thought about the cracked glass table yet, which she hid by placing a tissue over top of it after Lila left.

Needless to say, all of this puts a little bit of a damper on her day.

As Marinette walks up the staircase of Francois Dupont, the school she goes to, she spots Alya Cesaire inside. Alya is Marinette’s closest friend, and despite having moved to Paris only a year ago, it feels like Marinette has known her for their entire lives.

“Girl, girl, girl…” Alya sighs as Marinette walks through the doors. It’s a free period, and students litter the area. Marinette spots Lila walking with one of her friends on the other side of the school, and luckily, Lila doesn’t see her.

There’s one good thing about school that Marinette adores: she doesn’t have to see Lila. Lila’s always had Madame Mendeleev for homeroom, and Marinette’s had Madame Bustier. Because of this, their schedules never interact, which allows Marinette to avoid Lila for the duration of the school day.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette pleads, running up to Alya and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder. “There was a coffee spill, and glass broke, and-OH GOD I MISSED THE MATH TEST!!!”

“Marinette, chill,” Alya laughs. “The math test got rescheduled, but Ms.Bustier is pretty mad about you being late,”

Marinette sighs. “That’s a relief,”

“But you still missed a lot of news~,” Alya says, singing the last word.

Alya aspires to be a journalist, so on the occasions that Marinette wasn’t late, Alya would give her anything and everything interesting she’d dug up that week.

"I know, I know," Marinette sighs, fingers loosely picking at her shirt again. The seams stay intact, but Marinette's mind doesn't. The coffee spill and the glass breaking is constantly on her mind; she's not sure what to do. 

"Nice shirt, girl," Alya smiles, breaking Marinette away from her thoughts. Alya's good at that, and she notices when Marinette lets her mind wander, something that happens a little too often for her tastes. "Did you make it?" 

Marinette bursts into a grin. "Yes! I used that gorgeous thread that Sabine bought last week for my birthday, you know, the one I kept talking about, and it was absolutely amazing! I had to make this! What do you think? Do you like it?" 

The shirt is simple; a white base with flowers of varying sizes lining the edge. Marinette pairs it with her old, pink jeans (the fabric for the flowers on her shirt came from some leftover ones she had when making the jeans) and a dark-gray blazer that Lila used to own. 

"It's beautiful," Alya smiles, "But hey, I’m more excited for you-know-who’s reaction," 

Marinette rolls her eyes, hiding her face as an involuntary blush rises to her face. "Alya! You know I don't like him like that!," 

Alya grins. "Just teasing," 

“Well, anyways, tell me what I missed during lunch, I’m off to the classroom, before Ms. Bustier comes looking for me,” Marinette smiles, turning and running up the stairs. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone.

The day passes quickly, and lunch comes sooner than Marinette expects.

She meets Alya outside of Francois Dupont, and they both head to Ville de Soirée, a cafe which isn’t nearly as expensive as the others in the area. They both order their usuals, and sit in one of the booths as they wait for their drinks.

Marinette sighs and leans back. “Ok, ok, tell me,”

Alya, who is most probably on the verge of exploding from her excitement, gears up. “Ok, so you know Nino, right?”

“You mean the boy you’ve been obsessing over since we met him?” Marinette teases. “Oh hey, I might have an inkling,”

Alya blushes, her cheeks tinting rouge. “Shut up,”

Marinette giggles. “Ok, go on,”

“Anyway, Nino texted me yesterday that his parents finally agreed, and he’ll be starting school starting Monday next week!”

“Ah! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Marinette laughs. “Now you can actually make a move!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’ll let you play matchmaker when the time comes,” Alya laughs, “there’s also something else, and this one I know you’ll be even happier about,”

The barista interrupts Alya, placing two steaming drinks in front of them. They both reach for their drinks, with Marinette holding the cup in her hand and Alya taking a sip. She grins.

“Nino’s friend, you know, Adrien Agreste, is also coming too,”

She pulls back, looking smug as she tries to read Marinette’s face.

The girl in question sighs, shaking her head. “Who even is Adrien, and why does everyone keep mentioning him to me?”

Alya facepalms, groaning.

“Girl, sometimes I swear you live under a rock,” Alya sighs, shaking her head. “How do you not know who Adrien Agreste is? His ads are literally everywhere!”

Marinette pouts. “Well maybe I just haven’t seen him,”

Alya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ohh no, there’s no way you’ve missed him ,”

She pulls up her phone and momentarily scrolls as Marinette waits.

“Here,” she says, “That’s him,”

The photo on Alya’s screen is from last February, Marinette recognizes. She remembers how Lila bought a copy of the magazine it came in, although she wasn’t allowed to see it.

But the boy is familiar. His face is similar to someone’s, but Marinette can’t pinpoint who it—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.

Marinette leans back.

“That’s Monsieur Agreste’s son! I should’ve known, how could I have missed it when Madame Rossi told us about him?”

Alya squints her eyes. “Wait what?”

“There’s a fashion show that Adrien’s dad is hosting, and the embassy’s holding a huge event to greet all the fashion officials that are coming. Madame Rossi got us all passes to go,” Marinette says.

“That’s the one my mom’s cooking for! It’s next weekend right? She would not stop talking about it all weekend. I can try and score a pass, to you know, keep you company?”

Marinette gasps suddenly, burying her face in her hands, “Ah! I forgot! I won’t be able to go, since Li— I mean I, spilled coffee all over our new carpet,”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, I cracked some glass too,” Marinette sighs, face growing redder. “Madame Rossi’s gonna ground me for sure!”

Alya shakes her head. “Somehow I can believe it. You are the clumsiest person I know,”

She nods thoughtfully, fingers closing around the fox necklace on her neck. “Well I can’t deal with the whole glass situation, but maybe I can help with the coffee stuff? Happens to my mom all the time,”

Marinette perks up. “Really? Would you? Oh thank you Alya!”

Alya laughs. “No problem girl, I’ll come by after your shift at the bakery,”

Marinette pauses. After work would be...when Lila comes home.

Alya has always been a fan of Lila, but despite knowing Marinette, she’s only admired Marinette’s less-than-wonderful sister from afar. This means that so far, Marinette has managed to keep Alya and Lila separate.

Does she really want to risk that?

Weighing in the situation, she sighs. Would she rather have a shot at attending a potentially life-changing event, or safely escape Alya meeting Lila?

Knowing the both of them, Marinette remembers, they’d be a deadly combo.

But Marinette really wants to go to the event so, maybe this time, she might just give in.

“Great!” Marinette says, happiness laced with fear. “That’s...great!

Alya nods, smiling, watching as Marinette giggles.

“Now about setting you up with Nino…”

Alya turns away, blushing, “Marinette!”

Today

Lie-la 😒: sup loser

Lie-la 😒: im going to the mall with my friends after school

Lie-la 😒: if my mom comes in early

Lie-la 😒: you know what to say

Lie-la 😒: type, maribrat. use those lousy fingers.

You: yea, sure lila.

Lie-la 😒: good.

Marinette sighs and pockets her phone. For today, she is safe.

And that’s all she has ever wanted.

Marinette’s day ends with her feeling happier than when it began. Alya’s coming over to wash out the coffee stain, Lila won’t be there when she gets home, and she’s heading to her shift at the bakery!

It’s normal for work to not be exciting to most people, but for Marinette, it always is. Heading to the Dupain-Cheng bakery is always the highlight of her day, and working there is even better. The owners, Sabine and Tom, are like the parents she never had, what with them spoiling her with all the food they give and teaching her how to bake. Customers even tell Marinette all the time that she looks strikingly similar to Sabine, but she doesn’t see it.

In truth, she’s only ever even thought about becoming a designer because of the Dupain-Chengs, and if it weren’t for their motivation, she’s sure that she would be in a much different place right now.

But that’s not what Marinette worries about right now. Despite school ending early and the bakery being right across the street from where she is, she still manages to be late.

She exchanges a quick goodbye with Alya, who chuckles at her frazzled state, and dashes off towards work.

“I’m here!” she shouts, running into the bakery, the familiar jingle of the store’s door’s bell ringing in her ears. “Sorry!

Sabine laughs as she hands a box of pastries to a customer, waving as they leave. “Just on time. Hello Marinette,”  

Marinette winces as Sabine holds out her apron. “Sorry again, Sabine!”

Tom laughs from the kitchen behind the store, the sound booming through the bakery. “Marinette!”

“Tom!” Marinette says back, her lips curving into a smile.

Sabine eyes Marinette as she ties the apron behind her, quickly joining the older woman behind the counter.

“So?” she asks. “What’s new with you?”

Marinette sighs. “Not much, not much...oh! Madame Rossi has an embassy gathering to welcome a couple of famous people into France. And not just any people, people who work in the fashion industry!”

Sabine nods, smiling at Marinette’s delight. “And why exactly are these people coming?”

“It’s for the Gabriel event. I don’t know when it is, but apparently Gabriel Agreste is holding a huge gala, something about searching for a fashion assistant?,”

Sabine perks up at fashion assistant. “Marinette, you should enter!”

Marinette gasps. “I couldn’t! There’s no way! I mean, my designs are barely adequate, let alone Agreste worthy!”

Sabine shakes her head. “Everyone knows that isn’t true. Don’t put yourself down like that!”

Marinette blushes. “Thanks Sabine,”

The woman smiles. “Well, anyways, are you allowed to go to the embassy event? It’s a great opportunity, you wouldn’t want to miss it,”

“I mean, Madame Rossi did invite me and Lila, but Lila spilled a bunch of coffee on the carpet, and cracked the dining table this morning. It’s all a stunt, she did it on purpose. She’s blaming it on me, which means I’ll get grounded, and I won’t be able to go, and you know there’s nothing I can do about that,”

Sabine sighs, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Oh dear. The next time I see Lila, I’ll tell Tom to get that girl and her mother arrested!”

Marinette laughs. “As much as I’d like that, where would I live?”

The rumble of the oven from behind the store dies down, and Tom walks into the main room. The room seems friendlier all at once, his large personality filling the space.

“Here, with us,” he declares proudly. “You’re like a daughter already,”

Marinette giggles, her cheeks growing red. “Alright guys, we’ll see,”

Sabine and Tom laugh as Marinette runs away to help a customer. Their afternoons with Marinette pass by quickly, and while they wish it was longer, you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun.

By the time Marinette gets off her shift, it’s 5:30 in the evening. Paris’s sky starts to fade from its normal cotton-candy blue to a marmalade orange. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets start to die down, and once she texts her address to Alya, Marinette makes her way to the bus stop.

While her time in the bakery is her favorite time of day, her time on the bus doesn’t prove to be too bad either. She likes the quiet silence, and enjoys her time away from the world around her.

The bus is probably her favorite mode of transportation (but her only one as well). When she volunteered to work at the bakery after school, Madame Rossi decided that ‘the streets were too dark at night for Marinette to walk alone’, and she was given a bus pass.

It was a small and random act of kindness that Marinette wouldn’t ever get again. It was also the only gift she ever got from her adopted mother, and despite not being too fond of Madame Rossi, she did treasure the gift.

Madame Rossi paid for her bus rides until Marinette was actually hired at the bakery. It was then that she decided to have Marinette pay her own bills, an action that most certainly helped Marinette for the future.

The sound of tires skidding against the pathway jolts Marinette out of her thoughts. She turns to see her normal bus waiting in front of her, and grabbing her bus pas, waits in line behind a couple others to get on.

That is, until she sees what’s about to happen.

Marinette watches as a man across the street tries to cross. He’s old, as his grayed hair and aged face tells, but his most identifiable quality is the red Hawaiian shirt he wears, embossed with a white hibiscus floral pattern.

Besides that, there’s also a car coming straight for him, and though it’s a little while away, there’s no doubt that he’ll get hit.

Marinette does the only thing she can think of. She runs.

The street is narrow, and Marinette manages to pull the man across the pathway before the car comes. She huffs, turning to the man to smile.

He has an odd look in his eyes, lips curved into a mysterious smile as Marinette quirks her eyebrow.

“Thank you, young lady,” he nods.

“You’re welcome!” she smiles, turning to look at the bus, which has started leaving. “Goodbye and stay safe, sir!”

The old man watches as Marinette just manages to catch the bus, stopping it and shouldering her backpack as she climbs on.

Marinette seats herself as the bus starts once more, and turns to her window to look for the old man.

But by the time she does, he’s gone.

Alya gets to Marinette's house at just the right time. When she reaches, Marinette has done a couple of her chores, cleaned up the living room, and put out the carpet in the first floor bathroom. Against the white rug, the coffee stain is obvious, and Marinette sighs as she inspects it.

How were they ever going to get it out?

There’s a knock at the front door, and Marinette knows it’s Alya. Smiling, the girl heads to the living room to open it.

Alya gasps as she sees the house. From the marble kitchen to the hickory-brown wood flooring, everything is pristine and clean, as if the Rossis live in a mansion.

(They don’t, but the house is still fairly big. Marinette sometimes has to clean it all as part of her chores, but luckily that hasn’t happened in a while.)

“Dang girl,” Alya sighs, “you rich or what?”

Marinette nervously laughs, cracking her knuckles. “Uh, I don’t know,”

“I’m joking,” Alya smiles. “But, random thing, where’s Lila?”

“She’s out. Doctor’s appointment for her, um, wrist,”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I said get better soon!”

Marinette sighs. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s far better than what would happen if she told the truth.

“Yea. Anyway, how are you getting the stain out? I tried all morning, but it was stuck,”

“Just watch me, girl,” Alya smirks. “Before we start though, you already blotted the stain,right?”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows. “Blotted? What do you mean?”

Alya demonstrates with her hands. “Like, did you take a paper towel and try to get as much of the stain out as you could?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was late this morning,”

Alya nods. “Ok, so now we just have to make the cleaner,”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Make? This is getting a little crazy,”

“It’s really not,” Alya laughs, “I’ve done this a thousand times before. My sisters knock over my dad’s coffee way too much,”

Marinette laughs. “Alright then, show me what to do,”

Alya makes her way to the kitchen, filing through multiple cabinets. “Where’s your dish soap?”

“Bottom-left drawer next to the sink,” Marinette points.

“And your white vinegar?”

“Fridge. Anything else you need?”

“Just water,” Alya replies. “Warm, that is. And two cups of it,”

Marinette nods. “Got it,”

Alya takes out a steel bowl from one of the cabinets. “And can I use this?”

Marinette nods again. “Go ahead,”

“Great,” Alya says, pouring a spoon of dish soap followed by a spoon of vinegar. She waits for Marinette to get the water before adding that in as well, and then mixing. “That should do,”

“Work your magic then,” Marinette laughs.

“Just watch and see girl, I totally will,”

Alya finds a cleaning rag from a drawer in the island, and she runs over to the carpet. “Grab yourself a rag, Marinette, and let’s get started!”

Marinette laughs, and runs over to help. The time passes quickly, and by the time the coffee stain is gone and the carpet is dry, two hours have gone by. Their hands are sore and their legs are tired, but both can say that they had fun.

In the midst of it, Marinette almost doesn’t notice when Lila texts her.

Today

— 2 New Messages —

Lie-La 😒: open the back door

Lie-la 😒: im right by my house

Almost.

“Alya!” Marinette gasps, both sitting on the couch after the carpet was rolled back underneath the dining table. “It’s so late, don’t you have to go at 7?”

Alya tilts her head, confused. “No?”

“Oh well then I must have said it,” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yes that’s right! I’ve got work, haha. Bye!”

Marinette practically pushes Alya to the front door, while Alya looks lost and puzzled.

“Didn’t you already have work?” Alya asks.

“Yep, but gotta save up for uni right? Haha. Haha,”

Alya nods, squinting her eyes as she walks out the door.

“Um, bye? See you at school, girl,” Alya nods, quietly laughing.

“Bye!” Marinette smiles. Once Alya is farther away and out of sight, Marinette runs to open the back door. She can faintly hear the sounds of Lila’s friend’s car pulling into the driveway, so she dashes back upstairs as fast as she can. The last thing she wants to do is talk to Lila, much less be alone in a room with her.

She hopes that Lila won’t try anything while she’s in her room.

Sighing, she smiles when she stops at the attic door, and heads inside.

Before Madame Rossi found her and decided to take her in (how she came to that conclusion, Marinette would never know), the attic was all set to be Lila’s playroom. The entire room was painted pink from head to toe (even the carpet was a light shade of pink). There was a wooden wardrobe for all of Lila’s toys, and a desk with markers, painting supplies, and coloring pencils galore.

But then Marinette came along.

For one reason or another, she was given the attic as her own room. Out went the ideas of toys and tents in the room, and in came Marinette.

Madame Rossi didn’t give her anything. From the age of 2 till the age of 4, she slept on the ground, the lack of a bed present to her each night.

Until Lila outgrew her bed of course, which was then given to Marinette.

It was simple. Since Marinette was smaller than Lila, and slower at growing, she was often given Lila’s old things. All the clothes that Lila didn’t want, Marinette had. From her bed to the old beanbag in her room (one of the only things Lila gave her as decoration) everything was a hand me down from Lila herself.

Marinette sighs, and then flops into the bed. She’s lucky that Lila doesn’t bother if Marinette doesn’t get on her nerves.

Hopefully, until she can get out of this place, she’ll manage without angering Lila too much.

Standing up, Marinette locks herself in the attic, a faint click of the door behind her, and gets out her phone. Opening up Spotify, she starts her playlist, and goes over to the desk.

For the next hour, she does homework and finishes a project, all while sketching out designs for new dresses.

And hey, if she’s lucky, she might just be able to make one for the gala.

Marinette shuffles through her desk drawers, pop music playing through her earbuds. It’s nearly 8 PM and she’s searching for the special gold thread she had bought a couple weeks ago. It cost nearly a month's pay, and she’s been saving it for a special occasion.

With the dress she was sketching, she wanted to know if it was now.

She’s still searching through the drawers on the left side of the desk when she finds a box.

One that she feels might not have been there before.

(Then again, she rarely looks through all her drawers, so there’s always a chance that it could’ve been.)

Marinette feels confused. The box is made of a dark brown wood, and shaped like an octagon. The top of the box is embossed with a red design. Glimmering red circles meet wavy, thin lines, but Marinette is preoccupied with figuring out what the box is for.

In the end, she decides to open it. There can’t be much inside, can there?

Turns out, Marinette is wrong.

The moment she opens it is a frightful one. In that second, there’s a bright flash of light. It swirls around her as Marinette gasps, dropping the box onto the carpet as two solid-black earrings fall out.

That’s not the amazing part of it all though. After a second, Marinette comes face to face with a spotted red creature.

Needless to say, she screams.

“Hi Marinette!” the spotted creature says. “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Mouse!” Marinette hollers, “Bug! Bug-mouse! Talking bug mouse!”

Marinette scooches back, her hand grabbing books and papers off her desk as she throws them at Tikki.

“I’m here to help!” Tikki says, dodging the objects. “I’m here to help you!”

“Liar!” Marinette calls, searching for more things to throw. “This must be Lila’s version of a joke ! I can’t believe her!”

She takes her water-bottle from her backpack, and quickly moves to trap Tikki in it.

“It’s ok Marinette, I won’t hurt you,” Tikki smiles. “But if this makes you feel better, then this is ok!”

There’s a pause, and then Marinette sighs and chooses not to answer, leaning back, and quickly grabbing her school tablet off her desk. She points it at Tikki, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Who are you?” Marinette asks, “and what do you want?”

“Like I said, my name’s Tikki! I’m a kwami!” the tiny bug says, (still trapped in the bottle but floating in midair, Marinette notes) “And I want to help you!”

Marinette sighs, lowering her weapon tablet. “Did Lila send you somehow?”

Tikki furrows her forehead in place of her eyebrows. “No? Who’s Lila?”

Marinette bitterly chuckles, standing and throwing her arms into the air. “This. This. This is why you can’t help me. No one can. Anyone who meets Lila thinks she’s an ‘absolute angel’, and no one else knows her. How is someone supposed to help me if no one knows that my problem exists?!”

“Marinette,” Tikki sighs, “I promise you, I can help, if you’ll listen to me. Please let me explain, and then you can decide if you want to trust me or not, ok?”

Marinette pauses, considering the situation, and sits a fair distance away from Tikki, keeping her tablet in her hands.

“Ok,” she responds, facing the little bug. “But you have 5 minutes,”

Tikki smiles again. "And that's all I need,"

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: i resolve to post the next chapter soon lmaoo, thanks for reading! have an absolutely amazing day, you deserve it! 

taglist:

i’ll be tagging the people that i had tagged before, along with a couple others who liked the previous chapter for this series. if you don’t want to get tagged, i’m very sorry! just shoot me a private message, and i’ll take you off the tags. if you do want to get tagged, just tell me with a private message or an ask and i’ll add you to the taglist. thank you!

@reddragonofemeraldflame  @nomiegnome  @18markers @katbab @emmathedestroyer @bluesesameseed @cyborgcandy @karukofox21 @aestheticnpoetic c @magnificentcrapposts @miraculouslylee @lonestarfangirl2014 @lambdaarietis @miraculous-twilight @miraculous-twilight @silver-twilight @emmarosemary11​ @whiterosequeen23 @whatschooldoesntteachyou @shaykaleen @itswelphereiamuniverse​ @seraphichana​ @ladynoirotphell​ @tinynuggetofterror​ @tinkabella256​ @coopermaggie​

[kookiebunnii]

what happens after || kim taehyung

→ summary: in another universe, do you think we could’ve ended up together? OR exploring how your memories with taehyung intertwine with your slow recovery from a life without him.

→ pairing: idol!taehyung x reader

→ genre: exes!au, post-breakup angst

→ word count: 4.4k

→ warnings: n/a

→ a/n: i always wanted to write something exploring the feelings of separation after a relationship. there’s a lot of works out there detailing the process of falling in love, but i think there’s something redeemable in the process of recovering from love as well. 

●●●●●

The morning after might be the hardest part.

After a night of tossing and turning, drifting aimlessly between sleep and consciousness, the sun rises like it always does. When the dawn breaks, you open your eyes slowly, hoping that when you open them—Taehyung would be there.

But of course, he isn’t.

Because if he were, you’d already be in his arms. Taehyung loved to hold you while he slept, as if it comforted him knowing that he had you within his grasp. You never minded it, because the warmth he exuded was critical for lulling you into your dreams with ease. He smelled nice, like soft detergent on freshly washed sheets mixed with something so uniquely him. You would languidly lay in bed, curled into his chest, resting happy knowing that he’d still have you when you wake the next day.

When you broke up with him the night before though, this unrealistic expectation somehow still remained. It persistently presses against your heart, trying to win out against reality, until you were forced to longer believe in it. Gazing forlornly at the empty pillow next to you, missing the person who used to always sleep on the right side of the bed, your heart breaks all over again.

If you close your eyes tight enough, grip the blankets hard enough, you could almost feel his arms around you again. You could see Tae, dark locks messy with sleep, grumbling in annoyance as you try to poke him awake. He always mumbles ‘five more minutes’ before pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. You’d always let him have his five minutes; in fact, you grew accustomed to setting your alarm a few minutes earlier just to ensure the two of you would still be on time. You wonder if he knew this.

Laying there in a bed that suddenly feels too big, you have no choice but to accept the fact that this was only the first day in the rest of your days without Taehyung. If you could push past the pain you felt today, things would get better. They had to, because how else were you supposed to survive a break-up?

But the loneliness and the hurt have made their residence within your chest, and you feel too weak to face the day. You can barely get yourself out of bed, so you decide to call into work sick that day. You were a star employee, so they surely would offer you a day off if you really needed it.

You spend the rest of the day staring at that empty pillow.

●●●●●

Prior to meeting Taehyung, you’d never dated a celebrity or anyone with as much popularity as he had. Given how big he and his group were, you should expect his face plastered everywhere you went in advertisements and other endorsements.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

On your way to work you’d always listen to music, something upbeat and catchy to pull your attention away from the fact that he was everywhere. You wonder when they’ll remove the BTS advertisement for Chilsung Cider from the interior of this subway train. It’s been here for the past few days—surely they’ll have newer product placement coming soon. Despite the cheery beat of the current song playing from your earbuds, you can’t help but notice the small smile on Tae’s face. It’s the one he uses for professional things, the kind that makes his eyes glitter just enough to seem real. But you knew with aching familiarity how to easily get that boxy smile of his, his laughter contagious when you managed to crack him up beyond just a few chuckles.

Smiling sadly, your eyes lower down to the thin watch on your wrist. You’ll be on time for work as you typically are, so you should quickly get your act together. You were a radio show host, which meant that you had to make your voice engaging for those morning commute listeners. Being a professional meant separating work matters from personal ones, and it would be easy to tell if you were depressed about something.

God, what if your co-workers ask you what’s wrong? What if they find out that you’re no longer with Taehyung and just give you pity looks for the next month? You’d probably go insane.

Pressing your lips together instead of biting them for fear of ruining the gloss smeared over them, you briskly walk towards the radio building before dispelling those thoughts out of your head. You could be professional. Just for a few hours, you could keep it together.

Even when you dash past the photo on the wall, an old picture of you and your co-host holding up fingers hearts to the camera alongside world superstars BTS, you gather the pieces of your heart and hold them together.

●●●●●

Wow, did mint chocolate ice cream always taste this heavenly?

Burying your spoon into the icy dessert with renewed vigor, you pull the fluffy blanket over your belly as you commence your feasting. You haven’t had this flavor in a while given that Taehyung didn’t seem to appreciate it all that much, so you were grateful to be able to indulge in it once again. It wasn’t like it was your favorite flavor of all time, but you appreciated the crisp notes dotted with hints of creamy chocolate. You’d take toothpaste-flavored food any day of the week if it tasted this yummy.

You stop shoveling ice cream into your mouth when you remember the ice cream dates Tae used to sneak out of work to bring you on. He loved this one ice cream parlor down the street, always getting the same flavor no matter what. You liked to venture out of your comfort zone a little more, and given how often he took you there, you were close to trying almost all their staple flavors—not counting the seasonal ones. He’d always sneak a kiss from you afterwards, just to claim that he was able to sample all the flavors too. It always made you laugh, but you appreciated his small displays of affection. Especially towards the end, when the two of you began meeting a lot less frequently.

You place the sweet dessert back into the freezer, sighing and running a shaky hand through your bird’s nest of hair. It felt terrible to still reminisce about something that would never be, but you recently chose to forgive yourself when these flashbacks happened. Taehyung was one of those loves you would never forget because of how impactful his presence had been. So maybe if it took you a few weeks or even a few months to finally get over him, it’s acceptable. You knew without a doubt that you truly loved him. But of course, that did not lessen your obligations in relation to finally splitting away from depending on him.

Outside, the sky is glowing with brightness despite being seven in the evening. You lived in the city, meaning that the streets would be alive well into the early morning hours. It was loud and oppressive in the beginning, but you grew accustomed to it shortly after moving here for work. You wonder if you would even be able to fall asleep now without the hum of traffic underlying your dreams.

Maybe getting some fresh air, being around lively human interactions, and just living a little would help you move on. At this point you were ready to try anything. After all, it couldn’t hurt. You weren’t in the mood to cook today anyways.

You decide to dress a bit better than usual, if only for your own self-confidence. Your hands automatically reach for your favorite blouse and your most comfortable jeans from the interior of your closet. A lot of articles you own were actually gifts from Taehyung, so you’re grateful that you still have a few things that you could keep without reminding you of him. You wonder when you would feel comfortable wearing those dresses and belts he purchased for you. He bought them to show off “his girl” but now that you weren’t, did you still have a right to wear them?

When you finally escape from your worries, the cool night air blowing the strands of your hair with a carefree hand, you breathe deeply and try to exhale any stress still entrenched in your body. Tonight was about forgetting. It was about starting over.

It’s Friday today, so the streets are littered with happy couples, arms tangled together and their faces alit with adoration and happiness. You wonder if you looked as lovesick as they did, before ultimately deciding that you probably had. Tae was rarely able to walk the popular streets with you during rush hours, and even then he always wore a black cap with a matching face mask. The two of you grew used to ducking into alleyways whenever he spotted a large group of people heading towards the two of you. You remember feeling the hard brick wall pressing against your back as you waited out the crowds, glancing over at him periodically to smile mischievously at him. Maybe it was the thrill of almost being caught, or maybe he just liked your playful side, but he would usually choose to pull down his face mask just to kiss you when the two of you were hiding. These kisses were different than the post-ice cream date pecks. He’d always linger for a second or two, giving your bottom lip a greedy nip or ghosting the tip of his tongue across yours. No matter how many times he did this, your stomach always did flips in response.

The restaurant you picked is packed today, so you decide not to dine in. It would be rather weird to eat by yourself, especially amidst such a high-energy venue. Thankfully, your simple sandwich is completed rather quickly. You thank the waitress working the front desk before gripping your paper bag, heady with warmth, and head to the closest park.

One of the first places you discovered when you moved here was this community park. It is surrounded by large buildings, but that only added to the appeal of a small oasis surrounded by the mess of city life. You often came here after work, if only to stroll around the well-worn paths and think through how your day went. In the beginning, it had been difficult for you to adjust. Especially in the entertainment business, the higher-ups always demanded more of you. They wanted humor and fun, for you to pull fresh news out of the idols which fans craved. You had to be peppy, excited, and well-versed in the background of whoever you were interviewing. It was tough, but now you knew you had built up quite the reputation for yourself. You enjoyed meeting a variety of artists, most of whom quickly signed up for a repeat interview with you after the first round. You received the recognition and praise you craved, and you knew that you could only soar higher from here.

There are a few people walking their dogs tonight. You give each passing pet a smile when they look up at you with their round eyes and lolling tongues. Having a soft spot for animals, seeing them always made your heart feel lighter even if it was just a glance. Finding a bench is easy for you, especially since most people opted to stroll around this evening. The first bite is always the best, and it rings true tonight without fail. You chew slowly, enjoying the savory celebration over your palate before you slip back into your thoughts again.

You wonder what Taehyung is doing right now. His schedule must be busy, given that he was preparing for his comeback soon. You knew it was right of you to break up with him early enough that he would still have sufficient time to practice, since his work would always be his priority. It would be careless of you to end things with him close to his performances. You loved him enough to think things carefully on his behalf.

You remember how much you cried a few weeks ago, when you couldn’t even leave your bed to make it to work. Every time you blinked, he appeared behind your eyelids. It hurt so much that you never thought you could heal. You hated yourself, hated the universe for tearing the two of you apart. Whatever semblance of perfect love you found was replaced with the growing pain of your careers. You were climbing in the ranks, your days booked with more and more artists hoping to use your show to rise in popularity. BTS was traveling the world, performing for the masses and wooing fans with their genuine personalities in video interviews. As the two of you climbed higher, you also drifted further apart. You were beginning to feel the emptiness of being able to count how many times you had seen your ex every month on one hand.

The sandwich is quickly consumed, so you toss the empty bag into the trash can next to you and let out a sigh. Even though you wanted to not think about Taehyung tonight, it was difficult. Everything reminded you of him. Every time your mind wandered, it somehow ran after whatever remnants of him you still had. However, it was starting to hurt less and less. Instead of having your eyes brim with tears every time you thought about the way he used to look at you, you began to treat it as a silent acknowledgement of the past. You were satisfied with this development, but simultaneously fearful. What would it mean when you could finally think about Taehyung and feel nothing? Would that somehow invalidate everything he once was to you?

Your blouse isn’t doing much to protect you from the chilly night air, so you decide to take another lap through the park before retiring for the night. It’s difficult to see the stars, given the pollution and bright lights, but you like to imagine that they are there—shining down on you. They guide you back to your apartment, never leaving your side even when you shut the door behind you with finality.

●●●●●

Months have passed, and you are busier than ever before. Your coworkers have also began inviting you for dinners and other events more often. At first you were hesitant, not the social butterfly that most people expected radio hosts to be, but you quickly adapted. Everyone was friendly towards you for the most part, and the chatter helped ease and distract whatever sadness your heart was holding on to.

Christmas was around the corner, and you knew without a doubt that the entertainment world would be hosting a multitude of parties for the season. You were willing to join the tight-knit ones where only a handful of people were gathering for some red wine and conversation, but when your coworker invited you to a large rooftop celebration with some celebrities, you couldn’t help but hesitate.

“It’ll be fun! I’ll stick by your side all night if you’re that worried,” you coworker had chirped, a newbie at your company but who remained sociable and energetic nevertheless.

You had laughed nervously, waving her worries away and agreeing to attend. That had got her to finally leave you be, as you fiddled with the lid of your coffee cup and wondered what excuse to give when the date came around. Unfortunately, when December 24th finally did roll around, you simply stared at the calendar hanging from your wall and acquiesced.

Your closet is different now, as most of the items Taehyung purchased for you are now stowed away in a box in the corner. The newbie at the company, her name was Luce or something, had told you that people would probably be dressing nicely for the event. She then spent the rest of your lunch break yapping about some dress she had ordered online while you tuned out to play with the hem of your pencil skirt in nervousness.

Looking at your options, you finally settle on a scarlet dress that you hadn’t worn for a while. It was one of your first pricy purchases after your first paycheck, as a gift to yourself, and you were thankful to find that it still fit you perfectly. It was nothing scandalous, but definitely very different from what you were used to wearing. Pairing it with your beige trench coat, you check your makeup once more in the mirror before heading into the night.

The taxi drops you off at the location with little trouble. The sounds of the party are quick to descend on your ears, so you hand your coat to the coat check quickly before heading upwards to find someone you knew—just to stick around for the party so you wouldn’t feel isolated.

String lights have been strung elegantly across the sky, and you realize that it truly is a wondrous sight. Heat lamps are placed strategically across the floor, and a number of attendees are already sipping champagne and giggling with each other. Almost immediately, you see the coworker you thought of earlier, bounding over to you like an overeager kid and beaming with enthusiasm.

“You actually came!” she smiled, eyes wide as if you were merely an illusion.

“A promise is a promise,” you reply, accepting the flute of champagne Luce snatches from a nearby table to hand to you.

“Do you want to meet some people with me? I think quite a few of the celebs here know you already.”

You take a sip of the drink, appreciating the bubbles across your tongue and the slight flame that blazes in your chest when you swallow. You nod, deciding that socializing was only customary.

Your coworker is right to note that you actually recognize a lot of people in attendance tonight. The awkward feeling you had quickly faded away as you caught up with familiar faces and new ones alike. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, happy to take a break to visit their friends and family for the holiday season. Their respective companies all allow vacations during this winter season, so their happiness is well-warranted.

It is only on your third glass of champagne, a red color brushed high on your cheekbones, when you take notice of his figure flitting in and out of your view. Taehyung is dressed in a beautiful midnight blue suit, the color flirting between blue and black. His hair is dyed a bright blue, likely due to promotions for his recent album. You can’t pull your eyes away from his tall figure and the way his lips pull in a polite smile at every person who greets him. He looks exactly the same, but then again, would a few months really change a person?

Suddenly, everything is too much and whatever progress you’ve made in the past few months flies out the window. You want to run out the door and back into the safety of your apartment across the city. That sensation only heightens when his dark eyes meet yours, and your stomach drops in fear and trepidation.

The thing about Taehyung is that he’s never shy with you. Even after months of being separated, he still holds your gaze in his own without fail. The two of you used to have staring contests, ones you would always lose, and this moment also feels akin to that. You choose to accept defeat the moment you apologize to your acquaintance and set your glass on the table. Heading straight for the stairs, reminding yourself to grab your stuff from the coat check on your way out, a part of you wonders if he will follow you. It’s fruitless, because what could he even say? You would only shake him off and apologize before running away again. He knows better than to chase after the girl who got away.

When you’re finally miles away, dress discarded on the floor, lying in the center of your cold bedsheets and staring at the ceiling—you realize that you still haven’t moved on.

●●●●●

The beginning of 2020 is nothing if not full of surprises. For one, you quit your job. If anyone were to tell you that you would leave your well-paying occupation one day to pursue a career as a painter, you would probably laugh in their face before recommending one of your psychiatrist friends. However, that joke was your current reality. Unable to take the stress of keeping up with every new act knocking on your door for an interview combined with the way the male high-ups expected you to laugh at the right times and talk pretty during interviews, you handed in your resignation at the end of January.

Perhaps the dumbfounded looks on their faces were worth the loss.

The next day, you book the earliest flight for Paris. You want some inspiration for your art, and what better inspiration could you derive than from a city with a rich history and a penchant for beauty? You had always been into the arts, so this transition came easily. Taehyung used to tell you that you were gifted, but you never took heed of his words. After all, his compliments were freely given to you when he was in a good mood. In reality, the most he ever saw of your skills were the doodles you’d scribble on his hand when he was unconscious from a nap on your couch.

These days, you rarely thought of him. It was reassuring for your heart, knowing that you were slowly accepting a tomorrow without him. The process wasn’t without its pain, but you were thankful at your resilience. You knew that he was doing just fine, as your mutual friends kept you updated whenever they felt like sharing.

Paris at night is a rare type of beautiful. Staring up at the Eiffel Tower, you admire its curves and lines as people glide past you without paying you any heed. You probably stare at the structure for a good 10 minutes without moving, your eyes appreciating the classy nature of its architecture before you decide to head back to your hotel. You wanted to sketch this monument while its shapes were still imprinted on your thoughts.

Turning around to see Taehyung staring at you, the fear you had felt at the Christmas party doesn’t rise up to coil around your throat. It surprises you, even though you had already admitted to moving on considerably. He is still unfairly handsome, his hair back to the natural deep chestnut you were familiar with. When he steps forward, caution enunciated in that single step, you give him a smile to reassure him.

“Long time no see,” you breathe, tucking your hands into your windbreaker.

“Yeah,” his deep voice resonates in that single word of affirmation.

“Would you like to grab a croissant with me?” you offer, unsure how to proceed but deciding to be polite regardless of how uncomfortable everything seemed.

He nods, his tall form quickly falling in step with your own. Taehyung doesn’t say much throughout the entire journey to your favorite bakery, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk underneath your feet.

Sitting outside the store, a warm baked good in your fingers, the silence is considerably more bearable. Eating with satisfied bites, you watch the passerby glide past with radiant smiles and laughter, joking around in French. When you finally brush the crumbs off your lap to glance at Taehyung, he is watching the same crowd as you were. He seems to feel your eyes on him, because he meets your gaze. When you look into his eyes, no more than a few feet separating the two of you, you realize the lack of hurt that typically panged with every mention of him last year.

The realization empowers you, ballooning your heart in your chest. It is not happiness you feel, but something akin to a peaceful acceptance.

“In another universe, do you think we could’ve ended up together?”  

His question echoes in the recesses of your mind, and your fingers unconsciously tighten on the thighs of your leggings. This same thought had plagued your dreams early in your break up, as you prayed and wished that if things were different, if your careers didn’t demand so much from the two of you, that maybe there would be a happily ever after and an “us” to hold onto. But this universe, these conditions, were reality. You couldn’t ask him to sacrifice his love for singing, his appreciation of his growing fanbase, his dream—for you. He couldn’t request the same of you either.

“Maybe. Namjoon used to talk a lot about that,” you chuckle before continuing, “Multiverse theory or something like that.”

Taehyung nodes, a small smile appearing across his face when you mention his hyung.

“If he’s right about that, then I suppose so. In another world where you are nothing more than a normal boy and I am nothing more than a normal girl, I’d like to think we could’ve made it work,” you whisper, and when the words leave your lips without shaking, you are proud of yourself.

“I can be happy with that,” he says.

He walks you back to your hotel room, keeping to his thoughts as he does. You don’t mind, knowing that Tae often retreated into his thoughts when he was considering a topic deeply. You momentarily consider asking him why he was in Paris but decide against it. If he was ready for aimless conversations, he would start.

When you reach the hotel interior, a large chandelier illuminating the white marble tiles underneath your feet, he finally pauses to give you his final goodbye. He looks like he wants to say something more, maybe to ask to meet again or something of that nature. Instead he swallows and exhales, “We don’t need another universe to continue being there for each other.”

“No, we don’t,” you agree.

He turns around, bidding you another a small goodbye when his eyes briefly flit to your face. You offer him a small wave in response, watching his broad back retreating out the room and the sliding glass doors. Heading straight for the elevator doors as soon as his silhouette disappears from view, your shoulders relax instantly in the safety of the enclosed compartment.

Perhaps this universe still had a lot left to offer.

[oikawasass]

Oh boy I saw boyfriend hc with Iida, so would it be okay to ask for hc for Bakugo, Midoriya and Todoroki as boyfriends? 💞

general relationship headcanons.

‣ pairing : bakugo, todoroki, midoriya x fem reader. (separate)

‣ headcanons.

‣ warnings : swearing, nsfw topics.

Bakugo Katsuki.

bakugo would be an amazing boyfriend and you cannot convince me otherwise.

things are never boring with this mf.

everyone knows bakugo wouldn’t date someone if he didn’t truly have a strong attraction to them or if he didn’t really know them, so right off the bat, there’s quite a bit of trust in your relationship.

fighting :

arguments are a given in a relationship with bakugo, so be prepared to scuffle.

and be prepared for those scuffles to turn into lots of screaming and yelling.

bakugo doesn’t like to fight or argue with you, he doesn’t enjoy it one bit. it’s just… bakugo.

he isn’t one to instantly go and apologize right away once he feels bad or realizes he may have been in the wrong, but after some stubbornness and ignoring, he’ll try to bring himself to some kind of an apology, or try to find some kind of a way to make amends, so be patient with him pls.

gifts :

when it comes to gifts, bakugo isn’t a huge gift giver. he isn’t the type to just buy you something if it reminded him of you.

plus you already have him so what other gifts could you need.

but he will buy you nice things on important events. birthdays, holidays, anniversaries and such. he bought you matching promise rings on your one year.

“tch, dont look so happy. this is just a place holder till I get to put a real ring on your finger.”

and you teased him about him saying something so soft to no end.

dates :

you two don’t do the whole fancy uptight dates thing.

movie nights, late-night park walks and study/workout dates are the move for you two.

if you’re not actually going anywhere, then you just like to sit in either of your dorms and cuddle and talk about whatever random topics come to mind. expect lots of play fighting too.

cuddling / physical attention :

cuddling? bakugo touch-starved-baby katsuki is his name.

early into your relationship, he won’t be too keen on being clingy or super cuddly as he’s too tsundere and a teeny bit awkward.

but once you’ve hit that comfortable mark of a few weeks or a month, he will be on that shit.

growing up without very much sweetness or softness showed towards him, once he’d experienced it with you, he was addicted.

big spoon or die. except for when he’s sleepy.

he’s the type of boyfriend that when you guys are just chilling in your dorm, he’ll just

smack your ass, grab your ass, appreciate from afar (rarely,) pat it and play the drums on it.

he’s just an ass man.

not much pda, but he’s always got your hand held tightly in his or an arm around you while you walk through the halls.

kissing :

he love love loves to kiss your lips. somethin’ about your soft and plush ones up against his own just makes his heart feel a certain tenderness.

kiss his cheeks or nose in public and watch how red his face goes. then watch him pout about it and ignore your requests for smooches for a little until he starts wanting them too.

long and heated make-outs with you straddling his lap are his favourite.

sexual aspects :

you two most likely won’t wait until you’re older to be sexual, as long as you’re okay with it then so is katsuki.

but he’ll wait until you’re ready for anything like that, he doesn’t want to force you into anything. he most likely won’t be ready himself until at least 7 or so months into the relationship.

it comes down mostly to his quirk and him not wanting to hurt you.

but once you two have had your first time, expect many more. I imagine katsuki has quite the high libido.

Todoroki Shoto.

you two would have such a sweet relationship.

he grew up without feeling very loved or cherished, and you were the first to ever show him such feelings and emotions.

it takes him a while to learn to properly embrace or accept them? but once he does, all is lovely.

you’d have to really… impress todoroki for him to catch some kind of feelings for you. not strength or looks wise, but with your personality. so there’s hardly doubt when it comes to shoto’s adoration for you.

fighting :

fights with shoto don’t happen often. and when they do, they aren’t super nasty or loud. I can imagine they’d only happen over large disagreements or worries between you two.

when the fights are bigger, he’ll take some time to give the both of you a chance to cool down, and then try his best an apology.

he doesn’t like to fight at all. it makes some bad childhood memories resurface for him as expected, so you both try your best to avoid it. alas, it’s inevitable in relationships, unfortunately. but you two manage surprisingly well.

gifts :

will genuinely buy you the whole world if you pout enough. he cannot resist a pout.

he constantly buys you sweet little gifts! which were probably way too expensive, but it’s not his credit card anyway right?

if he sees something he thinks you would enjoy or that reminds him of you, cha ching $$ there’s more money out of endeavor’s bank account. you deserve anything and everything that will make you smile!

dates :

similar to bakugo, I feel as if you two wouldn’t do the whole fancy dates thing. unless you want to! then he’s all for it.

but you two much prefer to go to cafe’s or smaller, cuter and less populated restaurants. gotta maintain the cute couple aesthetic.

coffee and tea dates! library dates! park dates! sightseeing! allat cute jazz you see people on the gram do and go “aw i wish.”

cuddling / physical affection :

he loves to cuddle you. having you peacefully and safely wrapped up in his arms is his favourite activity, he wouldn’t give it for the world.

it took him a little bit to get to the point of seeking your arms for comfort or becoming touch starved when he hasn’t seen or hugged you in a little bit, but he got there pretty quick.

could cuddle you and listen to you ramble about your interests and views for hours. he loves the sound of your voice calmly filling his ears.

I imagine once you get to a certain point in your relationship, he can be a pretty silly boyfriend. so expect random butt pats and smacks at random times when you’re alone.

kissing :

todoroki loves to kiss your forehead. it’s such a sweet, yet almost protective action. not to mention the way your cheeks turn pink when he does it makes his heart flutter.

you are baby in his eyes. so expect lots and lots of forehead and top of your head kisses.

but he loves to kiss your lips just as much! sweet kisses and soft make outs™

shoto isn’t a huge pda person, but if you enjoy it then hes totally down. he’ll give you sweet kisses and hold you hand everywhere you go.

sexual aspects :

I imagine you two would most likely wait until you were older, but only your second or third year.

it just comes down to you both making sure you’re ready, and i see that being after you two have been together for at least a year and a half. sorry thirsty shoto stans.

I dont imagine him being a very sexual person either, so waiting isn’t a problem for him.

Midoriya Izuku.

my ANGEL. my small tiny angel. god he would be such an adorable and sweet boyfriend and you can’t deny.

he’s just so?? infatuated with you?? you’re so incredible to him?? he adores everything about you.

you never have to doubt izuku’s intentions or morals and you rarely feel insecure about this relationship. he makes sure to let you know how much he cherishes you.

fighting :

a rarity. he absolutely hates to fight with you, and he’s sure that it ends up physically hurting him when you argue. he feels his precious little heart crack.

only happens when there’s big disagreements or issues that get addressed. if you made a reckless decision that got you hurt during a fight, expect him to be upset.

he just worries about you and prioritizes your well being, so be patient with him.

100% will be the first to apologize almost every time, but not without some silent treatment coming from both sides. you both just need time to cool off and gather your thoughts, and he knows that.

gifts :

the sweetest gift giver!

he loves the reaction he gets when he buys you flowers and cute stuffed animals for no particular reason.

on aniversaries he buys you beautiful bracelets and necklaces, he got you guys promise rings for your one year too!

dates :

once more…no super fancy dates or anything. he’ll spoil you in other ways! mainly cause he doesn’t think he could sit still in a formal setting with you without being a blushing mess.

you two love to go for walks down town, window shopping and stopping in certain stores, grabbing coffee and such.

if it’s the fall or winter and you go out, are you sure you aren’t cold? you can have his jacket. and his scarf. and his hat. no just take them, he doesn’t want you to get sick. just take the damn scarf.

or just going by random food stands in town! ramen, sushi, katsudon, you’ve gotten it all. don’t be surprised of mido has a little notebook of food stand ratings.

cuddling / physical affection :

okay it took him a little longer than expected to comfortably cuddle and kiss you without his face going beat red or his shoulders tensing up.

it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy it! he’s just very very shy and you’re very very cute.

he still blushes and gets shy at affection, but he’s able to ignore it by now. he realized that he enjoyed hugging your waist and burrying his head in your soft locks way more than getting shy and being distant.

pda… he tries. he wants to be able to kiss you and your adorable face in public but he’s a shy baby. so the most you’ll do is link pinkies when you walk down the halls and kiss his cheeks between classes.

kissing :

he loves. LOVES. to kiss your cheeks. he’ll place the sweetest most chaste kisses on your cheeks all the time.

when he’s feeling extra bold he’ll pepper them in small and quick little smooches.

loves to kiss your lips, but he can’t for too long or his face is literally red hot and he starts to overheat …

took you a little longer than most to get to the making out stage, and even now they’re still very short and sweet.

sexual aspects :

100% will wait until you’re both older to even try to be sexual. it’s just not very present in the boys mind until you age a bit more.

I mean it took him over two months to be able to casually kiss you without dying, imagine what would happen if he tried bringing his mini mido anywhere near you before he was sure he could do it.

switch.

midoriya isn’t a very sexual person in general, so it most likely won’t be a huge aspect in your relationship anyway, which you’re both fine with because you love eachother in other ways.

[msiopao]

The One With the Rise of the Soup Spoon

pairing: jimin x nobi (x jungkook at the end)

summary: a vlive with nobi and jimin exposes jungkook’s horrifying encounter with a spoon

Laying on his bed, Nobi scrolled through her phone as she continued to read her webtoon while also having a text conversation with Jungkook, who was in the room across the one she was currently in. Jimin was showering in the bathroom since they just got back from rehearsals for their New York Love Yourself World Tour and he was known to sweat quite a lot so Nobi sent him to the shower immediately.

“Park Jimin-ssi, please hurry!” She called out.

“Yes~!” He yelled back and he emerged wearing a black long sleeve and black basketball shorts.

Seeing him, Nobi looked up and she looked at him with wide eyes. “Wah, Park Jimin-ssi! Your thighs! And your bare face! Wah, so handsome!”

The older boy stopped halfway to the bed and giggled at the sudden compliment, sweater paw covering half of his face to hide his blush. “Yah, Asami Sakura, stop it.”

“No thank you~,” she refused sweetly. “You deserve every compliment so let me shower you with them!” She yelled as she suddenly stood up on the bed and ran to Jimin, jumping on his back.

He almost toppled over at the sudden weight on him and caused his phone to fall. “My phone!”

With Nobi’s refusal to get off, Jimin had to carefully lean over to pick up the fallen phone and set it back to the app. He turned his head around to meet Nobi’s grinning face and he placed the phone closer to her finger. “Do you want to do the honors?”

At the hit of the button, they came on live. It must’ve been quite a sight to see the up-close faces of Bangtan’s puppies and there was slowly a lot more watching. Nobi waved for both her and Jimin as he was holding the phone with one hand and the other on her thigh to prevent her from falling.

“Hello, everyone! ARMY, hello!” She greeted, happy to speak to her family again.

Jimn tapped her thigh to signal her to get off and she shuffled over to lean against the headboard, waiting for Jimin to sit beside her. He placed a pillow on his lap to make it easier for him to angle the phone without making his arm sore while Nobi leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry everyone, for the sudden live. Rehearsals ended earlier than expected so we still have time before dinner. So, what better to talk to ARMY while we wait!” Jimin explained after seeing surprised comments from ARMY.

“Oh? ‘Is Nobi having another emergency sleepover?’“ Nobi read out loud, nose scrunching as she focused on it. “No, I am not. I actually left my key in my hotel room and our manager is at the concert hall sorting out something and he is the only one who had the extra.”

Seeing the amount of ARMYs saying how unsurprised they were, Jimin chuckled while patting her head. “Our girlie has done this before so it’s not so shocking. But you’re really not surprised hearing this, right?”

She slapped his thigh with her hand and he faked an expression of pain. “Well, he said he had an emergency so I ran out to help but in the end it was just which face mask to use!”

“Yah! I was torn between the koala and penguin!” He defended himself while she rolled her eyes.

“Everyone knows to pick penguin! Always!” Nobi scolded and Jimin just nodded, a done look on his face.

The live was filled with more questions about their tour and behind the scenes moments to which Nobi was glad to answer but Jimin was too scared to face the wrath of the others.

“You know everyone, Jungkook and I were actually eating dinner the other night and he got up to wash off his spoon for his ice cream and all of a sudden, I hear screaming from the bathroom!” She told, eyes wide. “I really thought he slipped and fell or there was a ghost in there so I ran in with the closest thing I could find: a fork.”

“Why did you bring a fork of all things?” Jimin asked in between his laughs.

She looked at him wildly. “If you were in that situation, anything would do right? So anyways, I was asking him if he was okay and turns out, he just got sprayed with water because of the way it hit the spoon and he was just so shocked.”

By now, Jimin disappeared off of the frame as he laughed at the story and the muscle pig maknae who screamed bloody murder from a spoon.

“But it made me feel like I was in a movie like scream or something. The title would be ‘The Rise of the Soup Spoon,’” she giggled. “I was just so shocked at how high-pitched his voice was. That was when I understood how he got his position as vocal,” she nodded with recognition.

“Jungkookie is going to kill you, Bibi.” 

Turning her head with a confident look, she looked at the camera with her finger pointing at the screen. “Don’t worry everyone. Jungkook would never lay a finger on me that’s why I can freely tell embarassing about him.”

“You heard right, everyone. Jungkook spares Bibi even though she does worse things than us! His hyungs!” Jimin exclaimed, outraged at the obvious favoritism.

“Sorry, I can’t help but be his favorite. I guess you just need to try harder,” Nobi teased.

Again, shocked at how he is treated by his younger, Jimin silently opened his mouth. “Bangtan lives like this, ARMY. We live in fear everyday because we don’t know what these two will do!”

“Stop being so dramatic, babo,” she shoved.

Comments about their chemistry and their playfulness filled the comment section as ARMY couldn’t help but scream at their ship. There are many videos in Youtube with Jimin and Nobi but they are always moments in vlives since they love teasing each other in live streams.

“Oh! Also, the story of the underwear shorts!” Nobi hit his thigh again, trying to stop him from exposing her.

“Ah, stop!” She begged but he was already giggling and ready to tell the story.

“So, it was about a year or 2 ago?” Jimin counted, looking at her for the correct answer but she pouted and refused to answer. “Anyways, Jungkook bought these white underwear with Ryan face patterns that has strings to tighten around the waist. And when we do laundry, of course, Nobi has to separate her stuff. But since they both share a room, it must’ve somehow ended up in her basket. Nobi just throws her stuff on the hamper so she probably didn’t see it.”

“Yah,” she whined, hoping to stop him but it didn’t work. “Oppa, stoppp.”

“You called me a fool so that’s not going to work anymore, Asami Sakura!” He sweetly said. “So! Nobi doesn’t remember what her clothes are because she has a lot so she probably just shoved it in their closet. Well, we had practice that day and it was really hot so Nobi usually wears shorts and a big shirt to practice in. So, she took her shower, got dressed, and all that. When she came out of their room, we didn’t really notice what she was wearing. Not that we would know what Jungkook’s underwear would look like in the first place.”

“You wear his underwear too!” Nobi called out, defending herself.

He looked at her with wide eyes and similarly tried to defend himself. “No, I don’t! Taehyung does that! I don’t wear his because it doesn’t fit me!”

Looking at the camera with a look and pursed lips, Nobi turned back to him. “Ah, so you’re saying Jungkook’s bigger than you?”

“Yes!” He answered, not sparing a second to think about his response. A moment of silence fell on them until he realized why she was looking at him so shocked. “YAH!”

Nobi laughed out loud before jumping off the bed to escape Jimin’s headlock. “WAH! SHE’S GETTING SO BOLD! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!” Jimin yelled and ARMY was too shocked to even say anything in the comment section.

Nobi returned and she gestured cutting the scene. “Cut, please.”

“Ah! Asami Sakura, just let me finish my story!” He pleaded. Nobi just nodded.

“Since you told almost all of it, might as well just finish it.”

“Thank you. She probably was thirsty so she was getting a glass or something. Since she’s short, she has to stand on her tippy toes to reach the glasses and the shirt went up and when Jungkook noticed, he choked!” He stopped and joined Nobi’s cackle as she re-lived the memory in her mind.

“Now that it’s in the past, it’s much funnier,” she wheezed out.

“I was sitting next to Jin-hyung as he played Animal Crossing and Jungkookie just started coughing and he choked on the water he was drinking. It was all a mess since Nobi got startled and dropped the glass and it shattered everywhere and everyone didn’t know who to help!”

“I remembered Kook’s face! It was so red, he looked like an apple since his hair was tied up like a little plant!” Together, they cackled and laughed before jumping at the sudden banging at his door. 

Thinking it’s just one of the members, Nobi walked to the door while JImin stayed at the bed. He switched it so it faced away from him and he angled it to the door so he record the members. Suddenly, Nobi screamed and Jungkook emerged from the small hallway, the girl over his shoulder like a potato sack.

“YAH!” Jungkook yelled while Nobi wiggled, trying to get free.

“Jeon Jungkook, put me down!” She screeched but giggled when he hit the back of her thighs.

“Come here, kids!” Jimin beckoned and Jungkoook threw the poor girl on the bed before crawling next to her. Nobi settled between them with Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Kook’s around her waist

ARMYs greeted the new guest and he raised a hand in greeting to the camera. “Hello, everyone.”

“I don’t think we should continue what we were doing, Bibi.” Jimin off-handedly said that caused Jungkook to look wildly at them. He didn’t even realize what he said until Jungkook’s eyes glared into his face.

It went way past Nobi’s ears and only looked up when she felt Jungkook’s heated stare. “What?” She asked, not knowing what happened.

“What were you doing?” Jungkook questioned while Jimin stared at him, amused.

“Why? Does it matter to you what we were doing?” Jimin pressed as he knew that Jungkook got,,, envious,,,, whenever Nobi was taken from him.

“Yah, stop it, hyung.” She slapped Jimin’s thigh and slightly glared at him for initiating something there. Turning to Jungkook, she laced her fingers into his that was curled into a fist. “You too, stop it. We weren’t doing anything bad. Just telling stories to ARMYs in our live stream.”

Jungkook backed down when she gave him a pointed glare at the mention of being live and to control himself in front of millions of people. “Ah. That’s not fair, I have stories too.”

“We didn’t finish telling the Ryan incident!” Jimin reminded her.

Knowing exactly what it was, Jungkook looked at her betrayed. “And you allowed him?!” She shrugged and that made his jaw clench. “All right. I can play that too. Everyone! Want to hear the story about Kura and the microwave?”

“OH NO!” She leapt and clamped his mouth with her hand and the camera shook due to Jimin’s laughing and him rolling all over the bed.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair that you get to tell a story about me but not you?!” Jungkook yelled and Nobi screamed.

“You don’t think that wasn’t embarassing for me either?! And HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME?!”

There were confused comments from ARMYs as the camera was now facing the ceiling and there was a faint thud that indicated Jimin’s form falling off the bed. There was a mixture of sounds from the screaming and the laughing, ARMYs didn’t know if they should be shocked or amused.

But they knew this was coming since you just can’t put Nobi, Jungkook, and Jimin in the same room together unless you want to unleash ultimate chaos.

a/n: i didn’t exactly know what I was writing about

[sarcasmisakindofmagic]

And I, seeking safe harbour, found it between the pages of a book

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

Word count: 2,200

Warnings: Tom prefers the movie to the book. one (1) swear word. This is a yearning sort of fluff.

A/N: This is unbeta’d so please forgive any typos 

It started, as so many things did for Santiago Garcia, in a bookshop.

The bookshop of his childhood had been haphazard and dusty, second hand books piled high above his head; unending towers of adventures waiting for him to read. They had been browning at the edges, marginalia scrawled in a rainbow of colours in thousands of different hands - previous readers accompanying him on his journey and adding wry remarks to the story. 

His abuela had taken him there every Wednesday after school. It had just been the two of them, the cousins relegated to helping abuelo on the farm, but Santi as the baby could help abuela with the town errands. She always got him one book to add to his collection.

Le Morte d’Arthur was a favourite, the binding long since giving up the ghost. Pages held together by string and Santi turning each page with a gentle caress, weighting down each pile with carefully selected rocks - flat, nothing to tear the paper.

Santi had gone back to the bookshop once after Abuela died. The day before he was due to leave town to hit bootcamp. He handed a fresh copy of Le Morte d’Arthur to the volunteer behind the desk, complete with scrawled annotations and inscription.

There hadn’t been many bookshops on the tours he’d taken, occasional lingering moments of perusing the shelves. Frankie knew to leave him alone with the potential stories, a quiet nod and he’d be off to stake out a quiet spot. The whole team would find him later, passively guarding enough space for them to guard each other’s backs. Tom never got the message always hovering, making comments about how he always preferred the movies anyway, Santiago stopped looking for bookshops with him around. Will and Benny usually came as a pair. Benny burning off energy, as Will followed more placidly. Ironically it had been Benny who understood the most, Will losing himself to music more easily than the written word.

“Books, man, I could do that anywhere. It’s active, y’know? Music just happens to you, but i can lose myself in a book.” Benny had told him once, dropping a Du Maurier novel in his lap with a sly grin and only offering a shrug when anybody asked where he’s got an english copy in the middle of bumfuck nowhere redacted.

On the long flights where Benny literally couldn’t sleep, and Santi had too many possibilities running through his head, they’d swap books, making little notes and hiding dicks in the centre folds so they’d get bigger as the book opened.

Half their friendship had been little doodles of dicks, drawn at the most heartfelt and profound moments of classics. Oddly it completely summed Benny up.

The local bookshop was a hidden gem. After Colombia he hadn’t sought out the written word for so long the impulse to go in surprised him enough that he was inside before he’d really thought about it. The shelves inside were crammed full, small hand-painted signs letting him know the genre in which he found himself. There was no military precision to be found here, plenty of space to get lost and find a gem no one had wanted to read in years. The ghost abuela murmured approvingly in his ear, old advice echoing ‘Books need readers, nieto, always find a story that has taken someone on the journey before.’

Occasionally, there would be little stacks of books as new orders came in, the shelves too full to make room for the new arrivals. Regulars moved round them, or paused to run the pad of one finger down the spines, a momentary introduction to a potential new companion.

Hidden around a corner was a tiny café area, only enough to seat maybe ten people, it wasn’t advertised outside - Santiago had never seen every seat taken, though he certainly recognised the regulars by now.

There was the local Rabbi who would tuck himself in the corner with a hot tea and write, occasionally muttering under his breath in Hebrew as he wrestled his sermon into existence. Two students, who were not dating but should be, occupied the table with book wedged under the leg to make it stop wobbling. They were always in contact with one another, limbs seeking the other’s warmth. They didn’t have a schedule but were never in before noon and had only once been spotted on a Thursday. 

A young mum who sat by herself on Saturday mornings and absorbed the quiet, she’d once fallen asleep, resting her head on the shelves. Santiago had woken her at her usual departure time, to flustered thank yous, ‘her twins were at ballet classes and her husband was away-’. She’d been out the store and earshot before she’d finished speaking but a little plate with a huge slab of shortcake had been waiting for him the Saturday after, with ‘Thank you’ iced across the top. There had also been a card with a little boy and girl dancing ballet together impressively drawn in crayon, with capitalised signatures.

Santiago had it in a frame at his house and refused to explain it to anyone that asked beyond a bland, “It’s a thank you card.” 

Only Will had taken more than a beat to move on, absorbing the bright colours and wobbly letters. The clap on Santi’s shoulder and soft look had been enough. Will had never needed words to get a point across, but a gesture like the card? Will understood that well enough.

The boys all knew about you, heard stories about the book shop owner who could make Pope blush with a well timed smile and look in her eye. 

Abuela would have liked her, was the way he explained it to Frankie, blaming the hushed tones on the baby cradled in his arms, rather than the strength of his crush. Little Nina was as placid as her daddy and slept like a rock from day one, Santiago could have yelled his love to heavens and she would only have huffed a little and snuggled closer.

Frankie had only cuffed him on the back of the head and asked if he would pick up some Spanish children’s books for Nina. Santiago didn’t need the excuse to go in there, but he grabbed it with both hands anyway.

You’d been delighted to help, piling his arms high with options before whittling it back down again, selecting tough to rip cardboard and silly rhymes over the school year novellas.

“I’ll pick those up once she’s grown a bit.” He promised, eyeing the reject pile guiltily. “If she takes after her godfather she’ll have her own library soon enough.”

“I was the same,” you laughed, stacking the books neatly by age group and sub-genre, “I used to drive my mother spare reading the book the same day we’d bought it.” “Would you like to go to dinner?” Santiago asked impulsively, talking over the end of your sentence, flushing a little at how abruptly he’d blurted it out. “I’d like to hear about your favourite books.” Your smile made his stomach flip, as you nodded fumbling with the book in your hands.

“I’d like that.” You agreed warmly. “I have quite a few favourites though, it might take more than one.”

Will met you first; in the bookshop without Santi’s supervision. There had been a break in at the shop and Will only lived five minutes away, rushing to calm you down as Santi drove like a madman to get to you.

The shop was in shambles, shelves torn down and books strewn everywhere. Loose leaves littered the floor, glass shards gleaming cruelly in the glaring streetlights. Will had wrapped you up in his jacket, careful of the bruises and nasty gash on your leg, lifting you off the floor and out onto the sidewalk.

He didn’t leave your side until Santiago arrived, waiting until Santi had you in his arms before heading back into the shop to check out what needed fixing.

Frankie met the shop before he met you. His house had the biggest yard, opening out into the woods without anything fencing him in. Will commandeered the space, Frankie happily helping out with the book repairs. His hands had never shaken under pressure, always sure on the controls of the choppers. He learnt the art of bookbinding quickly enough, humming along to Will’s playlists, the two quietest members of the team content to let the music fill the quiet for them.

The first time Frankie met you was when he and Will showed you the shop. The shelves Will had built, now firmly fixed to the wall and floor - they’d prop up the walls before anybody toppled them again. The undamaged books were separated from Frankie’s repairs, in case they weren’t up to your standards. He was pulled into a hug before he could summon up an apology for the amateur job. A stream of thank yous echoing in his ear as you hugged Will just as tightly.

Santiago was smiling, bringing him into hug with a quiet cabron. He always knew when Frankie was overthinking something. You pulled Santi away, demanding Will give a tour of the new, improved shop. Happily calling for Frankie to keep up, you needed to know everything he’d done too.

Benny volunteered to stay at the shop during the day, doing the heavy lifting while your bruises faded. Santiago worked from home but couldn’t help hovering in the shop, too concerned for you and too distracted by all the books he hadn’t got a chance to read.

Somehow this had turned into Benny painting little murals on any spare wall space and the edges of the shelves.

“Have you always painted?” You asked curiously,

Benny shrugged, scratching his chin and leaving tracks of paint over the stubble.

“Pops always had Will out back helping with the farm, he learned the woodworking with him. I helped momma round the house until I was old enough to help paint the stuff they built together.” He broke off to gently shoo Hades away from the paints, the shop cat meowing plaintively at his curiosity being denied.

“Come here puss, you don’t need a paint job.” You coaxed, clicking your fingers to entice him up onto the counter. There was no way your bruises were going to let you bend down to pick him up.

“Anyway, momma was an art teacher she taught me the basics, after that,” he flushed, “a friend helped me practice.”

You had to bite down on your cheek to keep from smiling or asking anymore questions. Benny’s friend sounded interesting but his expression screamed please-don’t-ask-questions.

“My mum could knit anything.” You said instead, finally convincing Hades to have a cuddle and scritching under his chin. “I tried to copy her one summer, ended up having to be cut free from all the wool.”

Benny laughed, all the tension leaving his shoulders at the image of you all snared up like a kitten.

“Me and Will used to track footprints through the house all the time, ‘til we did it with whitewash after painting the barn. Momma had us camped outside for a month before she let us back in.” Benny said sheepishly, a smudged green handprint marking the back of his neck as he confessed. “Pops snuck us in for showers, said he felt bad we’d got punished for chores.”

Hades leapt out of your arms, startled by your laughter. 

“God, I dropped a whole bowl of tomato soup on a cream carpet? Does that count?” You wheezed, leaning back against the shelves to try and stretch out the bruising seeing if the new position would help. Benny winced in sympathy

“Sorry. I’ll try to be less hilarious.” He quipped dryly. “And no, not unless you camped out for a month.”

The decision to marry you was the easiest one Santiago ever made. How on earth to actually ask you to marry him, turned out to be a harder thing to pin down. The ring went on half the trips you made for a year: down to Hawai’i on a group holiday, camping up in the mountains and even the near weekly hikes you took on Mondays, shutting shop up and leaving the town far behind.

It was an old copy of The Princess Bride that eventually spurred him into action. Santi was helping with organising the basement which was full of donations and books to be shipped out across the county.

Golding’s novel hit him square in the chest, the achingly familiar cover making Santiago’s throat tighten. Abuela had loved this book, taking great pleasure in dramatically clearing her throat to read it to him when he was sick. The grandpa in the story was replaced with Abuela as she told him the tale of true love: Inigo Montoya switching between Spanish and English and easily as he switched his sword hand.

He’d long been enamoured with pirates and fighting evil kings, but The Princess Bride had been the book to remind him to find something to fight for. Perhaps he’d been clinging to the doomed romance of Le Morte d’Arthur for too long.

“The Princess Bride? Santiago, this is true love - you think this happens every day?” You quoted easily, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you passed.

Santiago sent up a garbled prayer of thanks to Abuela, she always knew what he needed before he did anyway.

And so, Santiago Garcia asked the love of his life to marry him on a rainy Thursday in a bookshop. And it was perfect.

‘But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.’ -William Golding, The Princess Bride.