#i just wanna talk to people and catch up on local news and gossip | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fanficimagery · 4 years ago

Text

Hell Takes Riverdale pt. I

Imagine moving to Riverdale while your father has some business to attend to. While there, you meet some people you find yourself growing attached to.

Words: 8.8K Author’s Note: Riverdale AU where FP didn’t go to prison for his crimes and Jughead joined the Serpents because he wanted to. This isn’t exactly Northsider friendly and I’ll be focusing more so on the Serpents, so I won’t go into detail about all the drama the Northside gang constantly puts themselves into the middle of, nor will Jughead be a part of it. I will mention a certain family who lives nearby from another show, but I will NOT be bringing those characters in here. The most you’ll get is what I explain about them in the imagine.

Jughead Jones was notorious for laying low and staying out of the spotlight. At least he was until a murder rocked his small town, Veronica Lodge- along with her criminal family- moved in, and his best friends Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews put together their very own crime solving Scooby Gang. He liked a good mystery every now and then, but the murder of Jason Blossom pointed towards his father's gang and he didn't know how to cope with that.

When FP Jones- Jughead's dad- eventually confessed to the murder, Jughead didn't know what to think. All he knew for sure was that his dad was innocent. So he and his friends did their best to prove Mr. Jones of his innocence, which they eventually did, but given FP's past the police decided to keep him a bit longer.

Jughead Jones was a powder keg waiting to explode, so in a move no one expected, he channeled his anger from the crookedness of their small town Sheriff to the local high school jocks when they decided to target the new girl for laughs. Y/N Y/L/N was a meek little thing, small smiles and small voice whenever called upon. She didn't dress like someone who had money, but then again she didn't dress like she didn't have any either. She presented herself as someone from the middle class which is probably why Jughead felt at ease coming to her defense one day out of the blue.

You're at your locker, putting away your books before you head over to the cafeteria for lunch, when someone shoves their shoulder into your back. You grunt as you collide with the metal in front of you, a few notebooks falling to the floor, and you turn to frown at the culprits. Reggie Mantle and his merry band of jocks laugh at you. "Seriously?" You mumble.

Reggie smirks, shrugging. "I gotta find my entertainment somewhere and what better entertainment is there than the new girl with no voice?" You roll your eyes and bend over to pick up your belongings, only for a sneaker clad foot to kick one of your notebooks away.

"Hey!"

The sound of someone being shoved into the lockers next to you has you looking up, a beanie-wearing, plaid shirt tied around the waist, boy coming to your aide. "What the hell is your problem, Mantle?" Hands fist into the material of Reggie's letterman jacket, slamming him twice against the lockers. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase pick on someone your own size?"

Reggie shoves him back. "Cool it, Jones, less you wanna end up in a cell next to your pops."

He scoffs. "You look real tough picking on a girl. Keep walking, jackass."

Your gaze darts between the two boys, chest to chest with one another, and you practically hold your breath. You can see the other jocks just itching for a fight, but the longer Reggie and your savior stare at one another, the less Reggie seems to be amped up for a fight. He eventually scoffs, smiling. "Whatever. The little mouse isn't much fun anyway."

Reggie goes to walk away, but not before kicking another one of your notebooks further down the hall. You sigh and start collecting your things closest to you once more.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about him. Reggie's a total dick."

You glance at the boy collecting one of your notebooks for you and flash him a small smile. "It's fine. Every school has a bully. I didn't expect this place to be any different."

"Yeah, well.." He trails off, placing the stuff he collected in your locker. "I'm Jughead."

"That's an unusual name," you say. "I'm Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, would you care to join me outside for lunch? I'm kind of alone today and I noticed you don't really sit with anyone either. I'll help keep Reggie off your back," he muses as if his protection would somewhat sweeten the deal.

"Sure. Why not?" You shrug.

Once everything is situated in your locker, you grab the lunch bag that had been hanging from a hook on the inside. Side by side, you walk with Jughead outside and towards one of the concrete picnic tables. He sits down and only then do you realize he had a brown sack clutched in his hand. Immediately he pulls out two smashed sandwiches wrapped in plastic wrap, and unwraps them to start eating.

"So as a token of my thanks," you say while taking a seat across from him and unzipping your lunch bag, "have a fruit cup." You toss him a cool cup of mixed fruit and he happily catches it.

"Thanks." From the corner of your eye, you watch as he stares at you until you start eating your own sandwich and chips. "So Riverdale," he says. "Why here of all places?"

You huff a quiet laugh. Of course you'd heard the whispers about you, curious about your move, but you never spoke to anyone and no one dared to ask you before now. "My half sister lives in Greendale, and she and her aunts were having some personal issues. My dad moved us here so he could help them out, but he wasn't fond of the housing situations Greendale had to offer so we ended up here."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." He takes a bite of his food. "So are you and your sister close?"

"Not really." Your nose wrinkles. You eat a bit of your own food before explaining. "She kind of hates our dad because he slept with her mom when she was married, but instead of villainizing them both for their mutual decision, she puts all the blame on him."

Jughead shakes his head. "Well that sucks."

"Yep. But she obviously doesn't have a problem calling on him when she's in trouble." You roll your eyes, opening your water and taking a sip. "It's whatever. Riverdale is.. interesting."

"Yeah. It is," he huffs a brief laugh.

Over the next month or so, you and Jughead become actual friends. He attempts to introduce you to his group of friends, but the only one you can actually stomach being around is Archie. Veronica is too nosy, Betty too suspicious, and Kevin rarely hangs out with everyone less it involves a good gossip session. So more often than not, after realizing his group of friends wasn't just your cup of tea, you and Jughead hung out at Pop's Chock'lit-Shoppe.

The retro diner quickly became one of your favorite places in all of Riverdale, but upon entering one Sunday evening and seeing Jughead's expression you know you're not going to enjoy your dinner.

"Uh oh. What's going on with your face?" You ask as you slide in across from Jughead. "You look like you have some bad news."

He grins, shaking his head. "It's not bad. I'm just not sure how well you're going to take what I have to tell you."

"Mhm. Tell me after I've gotten my food." Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, Pop Tate himself is dropping off your and Jughead's usual order. "Thanks, Pop."

The old man chuckles. "Don't mention it, Y/N. Enjoy your meal."

"Always do." Before any other words can be spoken, you and Jughead squirt ketchup on your respective plates. He steals the cherry from your milkshake and you plop a straw into his Coke to take a sip. The both of you take a bite out of your burgers, chuckling at each other and how at ease the two of you have become with one another. "So what's up?"

"I'm leaving Riverdale High." You pause in chewing and Jughead refuses to meet your gaze. "I'll be starting at Southside High tomorrow morning."

"Oh."

"It's just- my dad's getting out." When he looks up, the excitement in his eyes at the prospect of his dad coming home makes your exterior soften and you start to feel happy for your friend. "He, uh, he's been doing good. Jail forced him to get sober and he's talking about starting over. I'm going to move back in with him."

"That's good news, Jug. I'm really happy for you."

"Are you?" He grabs a fry and quickly dips it into your vanilla milkshake. You chuckle at him.

"Yeah. I mean we mostly hang out here anyway. That won't change, I hope." He's quick to shake his head, letting you know your weekly hang outs at Pop's would still be on. "I'll just have to toughen up and learn how to throw a punch. Reggie and his goons need a nice swift punch to the throat every now and then, I think."

Jughead exhales with relief. "Please let Kevin know beforehand so he can catch it on video for me."

"No promises."

The two of you go on to finish your food, making small talk and promises to keep in touch. Eventually you have to leave, so before you go your separate ways you decide to give Jughead a ride home. And since he's no longer embarrassed to have you over after the first time you'd been over, he accepts the ride with a shrug.

FP Jones has been out of jail for three days and in those three days Jughead has noticed his dad has been a little paranoid. So one day after school, he's had enough and decides to sit down and talk with him.

"What's going on?"

FP glances away from the paper in his hand. "Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're acting weird! Ever since you got out of jail it's like you're constantly looking over your shoulder."

Jughead and FP stare at one another before FP sets the paper down, running a hand through his hair. "Someone's coming to town," he says. "Someone you don't ever want to cross."

"Okay. And?"

"It's worrisome," FP says. "Mr. Morningstar, he's the real deal, Jughead. Expensive suits, expensive cars, posh accent.. this man can be very dangerous."

"Well then round up the Serpents. I'm sure they'll enjoy running this guy out of town."

"Nah." Jughead scoffs, confused as to what his dad's deal is. "Mr. Morningstar is the one who sent one of his lawyers to get me released."

"..oh."

"But Mr. Morningstar doesn't hand out favors without wanting something in return. I don't like being in debt, Jug. Especially to someone like him."

"We'll figure it out, dad. He reached out to you, not the other way around. He can't want something too bad if he came to you first. Right?"

"I don't know, son." FP falls silent, tapping his fingers along the tabletop. "And there's something else you should know."

"What?"

"Mr. Morningstar isn't exactly.. human." Jughead scoffs, but FP shoots him a warning look. "I'm serious. This man is capable of things you wouldn't believe unless you see it in person, but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. If he comes around, you do as I say. I'll settle my debt with him as quickly as possible and hopefully Riverdale will be in his rearview mirror sooner rather than later."

Jughead doesn't know how to feel at seeing his dad- the Serpent King himself- looking so on edge. He's never seen him so rattled, so it leaves Jughead himself feeling the dread start to seep in.

Every single Serpent inside the Whyte Wyrm was well aware of who Mr. Morningstar was and to be on the lookout for anyone fitting his description. For a week there was no sight or word about him, the same week which Jughead finally decided to throw in with the Serpents and officially become one of the gang. He had texted his friends, some more supportive than others, but he only found comfort in his decision after hearing back from Y/N who held no ill will towards him for wanting to be a Southside Serpent officially.

Jughead is still healing, everyone at the Whyte Wyrm celebrating him completing his initiation.

"Toni," FP calls out, "serve us up some shots!" The petite, pink haired girl behind the bar laughs, she readily grabbing up shot glasses and lining them up along the bar. She fills every shot glass, smiling as her fellow Serpents grab one to await the impending toast. As FP grabs one, he raises it up while staring at his son across the room who's hanging out with a few younger Serpents. "Jughead, while this wasn't the life I wanted for you, it is your decision and you don't know how proud it makes me to have you ride by side. To Jughead!"

"To Jughead!"

The Serpents all whoop and holler, downing their shots in one go.

"Hear, hear," an out of place accent muses. Those closest to the man who seemingly appeared out of nowhere all tense and FP's smile slowly vanishes as he stares at the man who hasn't aged a single year since he last saw him over fifteen years ago. "Well, well. Freedom seems to suit you well, FP."

FP schools his expression. "Mr. Morningstar."

"Call me Lucifer. No need to be so formal."

The Serpents seem to fall silent as FP and Lucifer Morningstar stare at one another. Jughead, seeing the way everyone is holding themselves as the tension amps up, pushes his way through the crowd until he's just behind his dad. "Lucifer," FP says, "why don't you follow me. We'll go somewhere a bit more private."

Lucifer gestures for FP to lead the way. "After you."

FP glances at Jughead over his shoulder, but he doesn't give him any sort of cue to follow. Instead, Jughead follows after them to a table that's not surrounded by any others over by the stage. Once seated, FP stares Mr. Morningstar in the face. "So what brings you to Riverdale? It's been a while since you were last here."

"Ah, yes," he says. Lucifer leans back in seat, smiling. "I originally came to watch a client of mine wreak havoc on your precious little town," at this, FP and Jughead tense, "but someone very important to me made attachments here and I've had to rethink my plans of letting your town burn to the ground."

"A client of yours?" FP's eyes narrow. "Who?"

"I think you know who," Lucifer says. "Annoying little bugger. But as I said before, attachments were made and I had to keep watch over said attachment to see whether or not I approved. And let me tell you, Mr. Jones, I quite liked what I saw."

"Okay?" He drawls. "So what does that have to do with why you're here? Or are you calling in a favor for getting me out?"

Lucifer laughs. "Oh no, FP. You getting out was not my doing." FP freezes. "You see, this someone important to me is my daughter. She's the one who requested you be freed."

"You have a daughter?" FP shifts in his seat. "Why would she want me out?"

"I do. And because one of your little snakelings made quite the impression on her after showing her kindness when he didn't have to." Lucifer raises an eyebrow at FP's completely flabbergasted expression. "This person was and continues to be genuine with my daughter, so I figured I'd step in and help clean up your beloved little town instead of letting it be turned inside out by Hiram Lodge. After all, it seems we're going to be in Riverdale for quite some time now."

FP glances around, but he can't see any of the Serpents being this person in question. Eventually, he asks, "Who?"

Lucifer's gaze darts up over FP's shoulder and lands on Jughead. Jughead's eyes widen. "Me? Who have I-"

"Me, of course." You choose that exact moment to walk out from the back room, ignoring everyone's stare save for Jughead's. You're a bit self-conscious of the black crystallized crown on your head and the skin tight, all black outfit your dad's minions had chosen for you, but you don't show it. The way you're dressed now, Jughead's never seen you this way. "What's wrong, Juggie? Cat got your tongue?"

Your friend gulps as he eyes you up and down. "Y/N?"

"Surprise!" You muse. At his slack expression, your smile diminishes. "It's still me, JJ. No need to be weird now."

FP glances between you and his son as Jughead asks, "Was our friendship even real?"

Your eyes widen. "Of course it was! I was never meant to make friends here," you quickly explain, "but you just couldn't leave me be when Reggie set his sights on me and you- you befriended me for me." Jughead loses some of the tension in his frame. "You didn't talk to me because of who my dad was and what he could do for you. You talked to me because you felt bad for me and then you continued to talk to me because we actually got along."

A beat passes and Jughead eventually sighs. "Don't kid yourself. I only talk to you because you let me steal the cherry from your milkshake." It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you snort. Lucifer chuckles and poor FP has no idea what's going on.

"This is quite fitting, is it not?" Lucifer grins.

FP frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The Serpent Prince and the Queen of Hell. Royalty always seeks out royalty."

You freeze, Jughead's brow furrows, and FP seems to blanch as he comes to a sudden realization. Quick as a snake's strike, you slap the back of your dad's shoulder. "Not here." Then you glance at FP. "Can we continue this talk in a back room?"

He slowly blinks before he snaps out of his thoughts. "Yeah. Let's go."

FP stands and leads the way, and you grin over at Jughead. "Come on. We have some more stuff to talk about."

In a back office, FP and Lucifer have already taken their seats as you and Jughead join them. Instead of sitting, the two of you stand side by side after the door is shut behind you.

"So what exactly is going on here?" FP wonders.

Lucifer glances at you, smirking, and you sigh. You had a feeling he was going to make you explain yourself. "So I noticed instead of scoffing at the queen of hell comment, you blanched." FP hesitantly nods. "So that means you understand my dad is quite.. different."

Lucifer huffs. "I'm the devil, darling. No need to tiptoe around it."

You cringe as he so bluntly puts it out there and nervously gauge the Jones' reactions. Both seem more than a little intimidated and your heart starts to sink. "I'm still me, Jughead. Just a little.. more."

Jughead glances at you. "You're really the daughter of Satan?" You nod. "And this isn't some joke?"

"No. My sister, the one who lives in Greendale, was meant to take the throne," you admit. "But she really does hate my dad and refused it, so it passed on to the next heir. Hell got a little bit stuffy and some of my dad's more important minions were trying to marry me off, so I left with my dad as he dealt with business here. I was supposed to keep my head down until we moved on, but well.." you trail off, smiling softly. "I found that having a friend was quite nice." When Jughead has nothing else to say, you look towards FP. "You've raised a kind son, Mr. Jones. And for that, I'm going to offer you a favor." He seems to straighten up then, glancing worriedly at your dad. "And don't worry, this is a favor from me. I don't do contracts or cut deals like dad does. My favor is a no strings attached type of situation. This is a favor for a friend."

FP and Jughead glance at each other, and you notice FP subtly shake his head. Jughead sighs and looks at you. "Do you promise that me or my dad won't owe you?"

"Jughead," FP warns.

But you only have eyes for your friend as you step towards him and take up his hands within your own. "I swear. You're my friend, JJ. You got Reggie off my back and offered genuine companionship, so let me do something for you."

"You mean like getting my dad out of jail?"

You grin, releasing his hands and shoving at his shoulder. "Oh whatever. I was bored and you seemed like you missed him. Bite me, Jones." Lucifer chuckles and FP looks like he has no idea what's going on. "So come on. Whose life needs ruining?"

Jughead stares at you before shaking his head in amusement. "You're a little too excited to be ruining someone."

"I am my father's daughter."

Jughead stares at you, as if trying to conclude whether you're being genuine or not, and then has a silent conversation with his dad. Eventually FP sighs, cradling his head in his hands as Jughead looks back to you. "I messed up bad, Y/N. When my dad first got put into jail, someone suggested I visit this lawyer- who is also a Serpent- so that she'll guide me on how to get my dad released."

"And the snake double crossed you. Shocking," your dad chuckles.

"Shut up." Lucifer continues to chuckle, mime zipping his lips shut. You look back to your friend. "Go on."

"She gave me advice as a favor and said I'd owe her one someday in the future. I didn't think it through."

"The snake charmer is notorious for collecting favors and blackmailing you into continuing owing her favors," FP says. "She's turning the Serpents into drug runners and using video of my son delivering a crate of drugs as leverage so we don't tell her no."

Lucifer tuts. "That just won't do. Last I recalled, the Serpents were against drug dealing."

"We are," FP says, "but we can't deny her since she has that damn video. It'll be his word against hers."

Expression tightening, you glance between the two Serpents. "Give me a name."

"Penny Peabody."

Immediately you and your dad glance at one another, and you're the first to shout, "Dibs!" At his pout, you grin victoriously. "It's been awhile since I've seen any action. I'll call auntie Maze to collect the guest of honor."

You and Jughead are sitting at Pop's, waiting for your order to be brought out. It's your usual weekend hangout session, as well as a mini celebration for getting the Snake Charmer out of Serpent territory. FP had been a little hesitant around you and your father, but the more he watched you and his son, and you and your dad, he came to the realization that neither he or Jughead would be in harm's way. No one would be less they actually crossed the devil himself, so you were a bit surprised when FP had actually hugged you when you told him Penny would no longer be an issue. Afterwards, he was eager to talk to your dad and figure out a way to get the Southside cleaned up and fix the Serpents' reputation.

Seeing Jug's beanie laying on the table, you grin as you swipe it and quickly put it atop your head. "What do you say, Jones, wanna switch crowns for a day?"

He chuckles as he shakes his head. "I don't think I can pull off your crown." Your nose wrinkles at him as you laugh. "And speaking of crowns, are you going to tell anyone else anytime soon?"

You shrug. "I only talk to you and your dad, and at that your dad already knew about my dad."

"I didn't know anything about you or your dad and you told me."

"You were my friend before you found out about me being Hell royalty. I don't want to just tell anyone and then have them kissing up because of things I could possibly do for them."

Jughead nods in understanding. "I take it, it's happened before."

You touch the tip of your nose. "Bingo, JJ. Demons of Hell are shady assholes. But don't worry, if I befriend more Serpents they'll find out when the time is right."

"Well I think you're going to get your chance now because here come some friends of mine."

"What?"

"Whoa, Jughead, is that you? You've certainly changed from the last time I saw you earlier."

You smile sheepishly as three Serpents come up to your table, the one who spoke sitting next to Jughead while the tall one climbs in between you and the window, and the female sits on your free side. You pull off Jug's beanie and hand it back to him just in time for your food to be delivered. Immediately, Jughead steals the cherry from your milkshake and you take a sip of his soda. Once that's done, you squirt ketchup on your plates before you take a bite of your burgers.

"Well that was freakishly adorable." You glance at the pink haired cutie next to you and she grins. "Toni Topaz."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Well Y/N Morningstar now. I don't have to hide who I am anymore."

"Nice." She then points to the guy beside Jughead. "That's Fangs and the one on your other side is Sweet Pea." You nod at each boy in greeting, bite down on a few fries and steal from Jughead's plate every time he dips a fry into your milkshake. "So how did you and our snake prince become so close?"

Toni steals a fry from your plate and you grin at her. "First of all, I really hope you're not insinuating anything there. Don't get me wrong, Jughead's a cutie but I'd totally seduce Papa Jones before I went after baby Jones."

Jughead groans in disgust, Fangs and Sweet Pea snort, and Toni laughs out loud. "I like you."

"Maybe the sentiment will be returned soon," you say. "And to honestly answer your question, Jug came to my rescue when a few jerks decided I was an easy target at Riverdale High."

Sweet Pea scoffs. "Ugh. How do you put up with those mangy mutts?" It's his turn to steal from your plate, but you merely raise an eyebrow at his audacity before you glance at Jughead as he smothers a laugh.

"By avoiding them at all cost," you say. "Is food stealing a thing with you guys or..?"

"If you're really hungry, I'd hold onto that burger of yours. Fangs is notorious for stealing any and all food left unattended." Toni chuckles as you pull your plate towards you, but that only makes it easier for her and Sweet Pea to continue eating off your plate.

"You're all heathens," you deadpan. "At least Jughead waited a few days before he started eating off my plate."

The Serpents chuckle all around you and you find yourself relaxing in your seat. You knew the Southside Serpents had a bad reputation, but the more time you spent with them the more you realize just how wrong everyone is. The Serpents are some of the most loyal, drama free individuals you'd met and they're only riled up when someone attacks one of their own. And that- that you can respect.

During your lunch break, you're sitting alone and texting back and forth with Toni. Apparently word has gotten out that the Mayor is looking to shut down Southside High because it's unsafe for children, and the plan is to divide every Southside High student between several other high schools. Needless to say, every Southsider is pissed.

You send a text to your dad, asking if he knew what was going on, and he assures you he and Mr. Jones are looking into it.

Your can of Cola gets snatched up and you snap to attention, ready to argue back for your drink. But the sight of a grinning Jughead sitting across from you makes you relax and Sweet Pea straddling the bench right next to you makes you shake your head at them. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Southside High is in chaos," Jughead says. He takes a sip of your soda before setting it back next to your books. "We were at the Wyrm when your dad asked us to collect you."

"Toni's been filling me in," you admit. "Does anyone know if the Mayor is for sure going through with this plan of hers?"

"It's such bullshit," Sweet Pea grumbles. "Yeah the school is shit ever since the Ghoulies started pushing Jingle Jangle on everyone, but it's ours."

"Don't worry, Sweets. Dad's on it. He'll figure something out."

He huffs. "Against Mayor McCoy? Doubt it."

You and Jughead share a knowing glance, and you bite back a grin. "My dad can be very.. persuasive."

"And scary," Jughead mumbles.

"Yes, let's not forget scary," you muse.

"What the hell is this?" The stern question is barked from somewhere behind you and you turn towards the voice. "Cooper dropped your sorry ass and now you're trying to lure in Y/N, Jones? I don't think so, you goddamn snake."

You roll your eyes at Reggie and his friends, and at the fact that the others sitting outside are now staring.

"Watch your mouth, you mangy mutt." Sweet Pea moves to stand, but you place a hand on his knee in order to silently tell him to stay put. He doesn't glance at you, but he does remain sitting.

Instead, you stand and step away from the bench in Reggie's direction. "What's your problem, Mantle? I know for a fact you don't care about me, so what is it about the Southsiders that has you so insecure?"

Reggie seems surprised that you've spoken back and it takes him a moment to school his expression back into one of anger. "Who the hell says I'm insecure?"

"Come on, Reggie," you grin. "You obviously have a hate boner going on for them." Jughead and Sweet Pea snort, and Reggie glares at them over your head. "So what is it? Is it because they're cooler than you? That they're so much more hotter than you and you know for a fact us Northside girls would willingly get on the back of their bikes than in the car mommy and daddy bought for you?"

Reggie sneers down at you. "Of course you'd be a Southside slut."

Jughead and Sweet Pea shout in your defense, rushing to their feet as you blink in surprise at the venom in his tone. But then anger quickly takes over and no one sees as your hand forms a fist at your side. When Reggie smirks at your silence, quick as lightning you change your stance so you can send your fist flying into his throat.

As Reggie stumbles back and gasps for air, Sweet Pea grabs you by the arm and then you're running. Sweet Pea and Jughead are laughing as they run for their bikes and you readily climb on behind Sweet Pea since he still had a hold of you. Two engines rumble to life simultaneously and you wrap your arms around Sweet Pea's waist, ducking your face behind his back so the wind doesn't sting your eyes.

When the three of you finally come to a stop, you're not in the Southside yet but you are well away from Riverdale High. The engines cut off and you finally pick up your head, and it's quiet for a few moments before Jughead starts to laugh once more.

"You actually punched Reggie in the throat." He shakes his head in amusement at you. "I did not think you were capable of ever hitting someone."

Sweet Pea chuckles. "You do know you left behind all your belongings. It's gonna be trashed by the time you go back for it."

You shrug. "The only thing worth saving was my phone and it's in my back pocket. A backpack can be replaced, and besides I think it's time Riverdale High and I take a break from one another."

Jughead and Sweet Pea's amusement slowly fades. "Wait. What?" Jughead asks. "You're dropping out?"

"No." You huff a laugh. "Transferring."

"Transferring to where?"

"Southside, you dimwits." You squeeze Sweet Pea when he scoffs at you calling him a name, letting him know you didn't actually think he was a dimwit. "I'm so over the drama of Riverdale High. I need a change. And if I want to go to Southside to be with my favorite people, do you really think my dad will let the school be closed down?"

"You really have that much faith in your old man, huh?" Sweet Pea asks.

"I do. And you should too." Jughead glances at you when you say that and you subtly shake your head at him. Soon, you mouth at him. "Now come on. Let's go see what my dad wants. I feel like going out tonight so I need to finish whatever task he has for me and make sure Toni is free."

The small gang of friends find themselves at Pop's diner once again, you being squished between Sweet Pea and Toni while Jughead and Fangs sit across from you. You and Toni share a plate of cheese fries, half of your burger having been stolen by Fangs and you steal sips of Cola from both Jughead and Sweet Pea since Sweets had finished your milkshake. When eating with them, you quickly learned extra food had to be ordered because once a plate was set down it was basically a free for all.

You're laughing at Fangs' affronted expression, from when he tried stealing cheese fries from you and Toni and you both had slapped his hand, when the bell above the door jingles. Your gaze is drawn to the group that enters, your mood souring just a tad when Archie, Betty, and Veronica enter. They glance around the diner for a booth and upon setting sights on your group, Archie chooses a booth not far from yours.

Toni nudges you to show you a message on her phone, lightening up the mood right away. But every now and then your attention is brought back to the Riverdale High group, and you can't help but notice the longing looks Betty keeps throwing at Jughead. And the fact that Jughead keeps glancing over his shoulder until he finally gets up, Betty following him seconds later to join him at a different booth.

"Did I miss something?" You ask when your friend is out of earshot.

Toni huffs. "They're doing that whole on again, off again thing. It's tiring," she says.

You frown as Jughead and Betty start talking, heads ducked close to one another, but then quickly avert your attention back to those sitting with you. You don't really have anything against Betty, but that girl attracts drama like crazy and you would rather not see her drag Jughead into it again.

The four of you left in the booth amuse yourselves while finishing off the remainder of your food, and you make sure that all your plates are stacked with the trash compiled on top so the busboy has little to no cleanup after you leave. But while you're still sitting there and waiting to see what Jughead is going to do, you can't help but overhear Veronica's obnoxious voice filling in her boyfriend Archie about all the great changes supposedly coming to Riverdale soon.

"I mean it's no longer a secret mommy and daddy are buying up property, Archiekins, but can you blame them?" Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all tense, Fangs trying his hardest not to look in their direction. "The Northside is flourishing under their management and soon the Southside will too. We just have a few more hoops to jump through before we can start tearing down and rebuilding."

Having heard enough, you tap Sweet Pea's arm. "Move." Fangs widens his eyes at you and Toni giggles, she loving your more aggressive behavior. Sweet Pea stares at you for a moment before he grins, sliding out of his seat so you can follow right after him. Then taking a few steps towards Veronica and Archie's both, you stop and address the entitled teen. "Consider those hoops everlasting," you say. "Lodge Industries will no longer be buying up any property in Riverdale."

Veronica scoffs, smirking a second later. "And who the hell do you think you are to have any say so in my family's dealings?"

This time you smirk and you mentally cheer when you see her own falter. "Tell daddy dearest the Morningstars say hello. Lucifer will be in touch soon." You reach forward as Veronica's expression completely falls, stealing the cherry from her milkshake and catching the red, plump flesh behind your teeth and plucking the stem free. Letting the stem drop onto the table, you glance over your shoulder and gesture for your friends to follow. They do, chuckling all the while you walk towards the door. But before you walk out, you look over at Jughead and catch his attention. "Hey, JJ, we're heading out. Call me if you need a ride."

"Oh, uh, I'll come with." Betty quickly glances at him and for a split second you feel bad for her. "We're done here anyway." He slides out of the booth, ignoring Betty's frown as he makes his way towards you and his fellow Serpents.

Sweet Pea jostles Jughead, the two boys shoving each other lightly and laughing as the five of your exit. Everyone piles into your small SUV and it's not until Toni is comfortably seated in the passenger seat does she ask, "How serious were you with that threat back there? Can your dad really stop Lodge Industries?"

You slowly start to grin as you back out of your parking space. "Hiram Lodge is one of my dad's clients," you admit. "They have a.. contract of sorts, and Mr. Lodge is rich because of that. But my dad is starting to cut ties with some old clients of his and I'm pretty sure the Lodge's time up on that little pedestal of theirs is coming to an end."

"Sweet," Sweet Pea says from the back seat. "Hey, if your dad buys the school do you think you can ask him to put doors back on the bathroom stalls?"

You and Toni both snort, and you nod your head. "Sure, Sweets. I'll see what I can do."

- - - - - - - - - -

At the Whyte Wyrm, Sweet Pea and Fangs make a beeline for the pool table. Toni heads for the bar, her shift about twenty minutes from starting, and Jughead gets pulled into a conversation by some elder Serpents. Glancing around the bar, you don't see either man you want to speak with so you head for the hallway near the back wall where you know it leads to an office. A couple Serpents guarding the hall nod at you and let you pass without a word.

When you come upon the shut door to FP's office, you knock a couple of times and wait for confirmation to enter. A moment passes before his gruff voice is calling out that exact confirmation.

Opening the door, you walk right in and aren't surprised to see your dad in there as well. You smirk, happy to know he found a mortal he felt comfortable enough to share his identity with and that said mortal didn't go running for the hills. "FP. Dad," you greet. "Just the men I was looking for."

FP leans back in his chair as you take a seat across from him. "What can I do for you, Y/N?"

"Well first, I need to know your opinion about Sweet Pea, Toni, and Fangs." You then turn to look at your dad. "And depending on FP's answer, I need to know-"

"Your first orgy," your dad coos. "I approve. Especially the tall one. He'd make an excellent consort."

"I'm sorry, what?" FP glances between you and your dad, disbelief in his features.

You sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Dad, no. Just no," you say. When your eyes flutter back open, you say, "What did I tell you about speaking of orgies so freely in front of mortals? It's weird. Especially since you're my dad. You're not supposed to approve of these things."

"Well fine. Have it your way." Lucifer leans back in his seat, resting his right ankle atop his left knee and taking a sip of his drink. "Probably for the best anyway. Naamah will be upset if you deny her the chance to plan your first orgy."

"Oh my god."

FP finally laughs, shaking his head as if he can't believe what he's hearing. Your dad pouts and you give your attention to FP once more. "The baby snakes are a loyal bunch," he says. "I've had some older Serpents question you and your father's presence here within the Wyrm, but Jug and the others were quick to defend you. Why do you ask?"

Here you look back to your dad. "I want to come clean to them. Jughead knows about me and it's getting tough to censor what I say in front of the others when we all hang out."

Lucifer salutes you with his glass tumbler. "You're the Queen of Hell, darling. You can tell whoever you want."

"Good to know." You push up from your chair, smiling at both men. "Oh and I want Southside High. Veronica Lodge and her family are trying to tear the Southside down and rebuild, but I feel like throwing a wrench into their plans."

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at you. "And how do you suggest going about that?"

"By befriending Mayor McCoy, of course." FP snorts, but you continue on as if you didn't hear him. "She seems like a decent lady when the Lodge's aren't blackmailing her into doing their bidding. Give her a little taste of power, no strings attached and without letting her know your true identity, and show her you're an ally. I have a feeling she'll drop the Lodge's in a heartbeat."

FP grins, shaking his head. "You really are your father's daughter."

You glance at him and smirk. "Duh. Now carry on. I'm going to be with Toni behind the bar."

- - - - - - - - - -

The Whyte Wyrm is as busy as always and you happily find your place behind the bar with Toni. She serves up the drinks as you walk around, cleaning glasses and/or wiping down the bar top. Every now and then you catch your dad or FP's eye, and they signal for a round of drinks that Toni readily makes before walking a tray over to them. You then watch your boys from afar, laughing when Jughead catches your eye and purposefully makes Sweet Pea miss his shot while playing pool. Sweet Pea is apparently a very sore loser, but you can't help to think that he makes a really cute sore loser.

When Toni returns and sees where you're looking, she sidles up to your side while cleaning a glass in her hand. "So, uh, I think I should apologize."

You look at her. "For what?"

"Earlier at Pop's, when I told you Jughead and the Cooper girl were on again/off again, you looked like someone kicked your puppy for a moment there."

"Did I?" You chuckle, shrugging her words off. "It's fine. Jughead has become a really good friend to me and I'm not exactly Betty's biggest fan. They say southsiders are nothing but trouble, but those northsiders have caused a lot more trouble than any of you have. I don't want to see him be dragged into their messes again."

"Oh," she drawls. "Okay. I just thought that you were upset because she and Jughead were together again and you had missed your shot or something."

"No." You laugh. "And besides, I kind of have my eye on another Serpent, but I don't think he likes me that way."

Toni rolls her eyes. "I don't think FP is into jailbait. Sorry."

You snort, shaking your head in amusement. "A girl can dream."

Over the next couple of weeks, you get well acquainted with the power struggle between the Ghoulies and the Southside Serpents within the high school. The school is practically run down, there's no privacy within the graffitied walls of the bathrooms, and a little less than half the student population have no issue taking drugs out in the open while standing in the hallways. Not a single one of your favorite Serpents lets you out of their sight, and though you don't need their protection you welcome it. And their loyalty towards you is what leads you to take that final step in finally telling your other three friends the truth.

Walking up to the Jones' trailer, you stomp up the steps and pound on the door. A few seconds later the door opens and FP raises his eyebrows at you as he's pulling on a leather jacket.

"Y/N?"

"Hey, FP. Is JJ home?"

"Yeah. Come in." He opens the door wider and you step in, heading for the couch. "Is everything okay?"

"Peachy." You grin. You plop down in the corner of a couch, crossing one knee over the other. "I just finally decided to tell the others the truth and I wanted to see if Jughead would be there for me in case things go south."

A look of understanding passes over FP's features and he smiles kindly at you when he notices your bit of nerves. "It'll go fine. If Jug and I didn't run, neither will these three little shits." You grin at him. "Now I should get going. Will your dad and I be seeing you later?"

"Depends on how well my little bombshell is taken."

"Alright." FP heads towards the kitchen, calling down the only hallway in his trailer. "Hey Jug, Y/N is here so put some clothes on before you come out."

FP smiles at you one last time before he exits his trailer and it's not until his bike's engine outside roars to life does Jughead exit his bedroom from the back. "What's going on?"

"It's time to tell the other baby snakes about my heritage."

He blinks. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You nod, momentarily second guessing yourself. "Yeah," you then say more confidently. "I think the longer I wait now, the higher the chance of them being pissed at the fact that I kept something like this from them."

"Okay. Where are we doing this?"

"Quarry?" You wonder. "We need privacy, but not too private that they feel trapped should they not take the news well."

Jughead exhales quietly. "Quarry it is. My bike or your car?"

"Your bike. Text Toni and the guys. I just need to grab my bag from my car."

Jughead is pulling on his jacket as he gestures for you to join him by the door, then pulling on his infamous crown beanie before pulling out his phone to text the others. He heads to his bike while you head for your car, opening the passenger door and pulling out your messenger bag. Draping the bag strap over your head and across your chest, you close the door and lock up before pocketing the keys.

When you sidle up to Jughead, he hands you his only helmet and you readily pull it on before climbing on behind him. He's not normally a crazy driver, so you loosely wrap your arms around his waist and enjoy the short ride to the quarry.

You and Jughead are the first to arrive, walking towards a spot that seems to have frequent visitors. Seats torn out from vehicles and a few crates form a half circle around an unlit barrel just off to the side of the water, and Jughead wastes no time in lighting up the barrel since it's a little chilly out.

Placing your bag on one of the seats, you walk towards the fire and hold your hands over it to warm up. Then about five minutes later, the rest of your friends show up.

"What's going on?" Sweet Pea asks as his gaze darts between you and Jug. As he sees you warming up, he stops by your side and wraps an arm around your shoulders to offer some of his warmth. Toni and Fangs stand on the other side of the barrel, warming themselves up briefly before taking a seat.

"I, uh, I have something I need to tell you guys. It's going to sound incredibly insane, but I need you to trust me when I say I am no threat to you." Sweet Pea frowns down at you and he only takes a seat when you nudge him towards the others. Jughead grabs your bag and hands it to you, and you smile faintly in thanks. Then opening the flap, you remove your crown and let your bag fall before hesitantly putting the crown on. Clearing your throat, you say, "When you guys first saw me, I was wearing this."

Fangs grins. "We thought you were just another spoiled little daddy's girl."

You grin back. "I mean I am," you shrug, "but the crown actually means something."

"Are you trying to tell us you're royalty or something?" Toni chuckles. At your neutral expression, her smile falters. "Y/N?"

You inhale shakily, glancing at Jughead who gives you an encouraging nod. "Whenever people meet my dad, I'm well aware that they think his given name is rather unfortunate." Sweet Pea snorts, grinning. A couple older Serpents at the Wyrm made it no secret when making fun of your dad's name. "But what if I told you that my dad really is the Lucifer Morningstar?" Your serious, yet nervous, expression makes the other three go still. "That I'm literally the daughter of the devil?"

The only sounds you can hear are the chirping crickets and crackling fire until, "You really buying this, man?" Sweet Pea scoffs. You briefly glance at him to see he's staring at Jughead who's still by your side.

Jughead nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "I am. My dad knew something was up with Lucifer before they outright told us the truth. He's known for years, but Lucifer wasn't a threat to him then or now so he didn't make a fuss about it."

Sweet Pea frowns. He doesn't look scared or pissed, but he doesn't look impressed either. "Why are you telling us this now?"

"That first night, my dad let FP and Jughead in on our secret because he saw how I trusted Jug and wasn't planning to leave Riverdale anytime soon. We trusted the Jones' and they now trust us. The circle of people in the know was meant to stay as small as possible, but then you three," you pause, huffing and smiling sadly as you meet each of their gazes, "wormed your way under my skin and I knew I couldn't keep a secret this big from you anymore."

"So your dad really is the devil?" Fangs asks. His gaze is set on the flames just barely dancing over the rim of the barrel, an expression on his face you can't quite decipher.

Sighing, you let your left hand wave back and forth over the flames. "My dad really is Lucifer Morningstar." You hold your hand still then, the flames engulfing your hand. Someone gasps, but you don't look up until you say, "And I'm the Queen of Hell."

"Oh fuck."

Fangs immediately shoots up, stumbling behind his seat. Sweet Pea's expression has completely shut down and Toni stares with wide eyes. Without having to look in a mirror, you already know your eyes have gone pure white and the picture you paint with the crown atop your head can look quite daunting.

"I'm still me- the same girl you've been hanging out with for a while now." You swallow down the hurt you feel at their speechlessness. "But.. I will understand if this is too much. All I ask is that this little revelation doesn't leave the circle." Still your friends say nothing and fight against the burn behind your eyes. "I'm sorry."

As quickly as you can, you bend over to pick up your bag. Shouldering the strap, you turn to walk away when Jughead calls out. "Y/N.."

"It's fine," you say and cast him a small smile. "I'll pick up my car later. I'm going home."

"Let me give you a ride home at least."

You shake your head. "I'll manage." And with that, you turn and walk away, letting a swirl of flames whisk you away.

Maybe you should have waited, dropping hints here and there to ease them in. But as you appear in your room, you drop onto your bed and let the sadness swallow you whole. What's done is done. All you can do is hope for the best now.

#riverdale imagine #riverdale gen fic x reader #riverdale #jughead jones #fp jones #lucifer morningstar #sweet pea #toni topaz #fangs fogarty #riverdale x reader

343 notes · View notes

costellos · 4 years ago

Text

a/n: I’ve been reminiscing on a lot of cheesy romcoms and one of my favorite tropes are “dates that aren’t officially dates but basically are dates.” we love a good yearning. that said, here are some #unofficialofficialdates that the boys use to spend time with you!

tw: mentions of drugs

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & what excuses they use to get closer to you!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati gets closer to you by having you assist him at “fundraisers.”

Passione holds a handful of events throughout the year. elaborate parties with expensive champagne, mindless chatter, and some very high-profile attendees. people will join to officialize deals, buy drugs, and of course, donate to keep Passione thriving.

Bucciarati usually goes alone, acting as a representative for his escort team. this isn’t the type of scene you’d see the others at. but up until your joining, you’ve found yourself as his sole companion.

it began as a way to familiarize yourself with mobster life. his idea, of course. although he didn’t push the idea, he’d be lying if he said he hoped you would accept. ↳ “it’s not required, but the company would be nice.”

it’s an odd affair. celebrities and politicians join and no one blinks an eye. it’s not where you’d usually find yourself on a Saturday night, with you and your partner dressed to the nines (okay, maybe not a usual scene for you; Bucciarati always had something beautiful draped onto his figure).

the hors d'oeuvres and cocktails are nice, at least. but you find yourself drawn to your conversations with Bucciarati the most.

he makes you feel welcome at every event, that you deserve to be here as much as the starlet making her grand appearance. you’re unsure that you can handle business with new clients, but the way he talks to you is so reassuring and supportive that you quickly help the gang obtain new patrons.

you can’t help but notice that his speech became more casual after the first outing. he’s a fan of crude jokes and local gossip, you find. but you also notice the hand at your hip as he guides you to every following fundraiser. if you look at him while he he does so, he’d send a the kindest grin. ↳ “see? you’re a natural. we need to work on your eye contact, though. clients respond better when they see those pretty eyes look back at them.”

that shameless flirtation came out after your fifth fundraiser. by that point, Bucciarati made less of an effort to hide his attraction toward you. all the other patrons thought you to be a couple. why not play the part? besides, he finds your embarrassment endearing. cute, even. he’s already planning ways to make this night last longer.

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio gets closer to you by helping you get ready for your missions.

you’re typically the first choice for espionage missions. the way you slip into parties, meetings, anything without anyone noticing is impressive, to say the least. but only part of that is thanks to your own abilities. Abbacchio does a lot of the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

it started when he noticed your god awful attempt at masquerade makeup. your contouring left much to be desired. ↳ “...please don’t tell me you’re actually going out like that.”

and so began a tradition of sorts. you usually meet him at his apartment, considering that’s where all his tools are. it was awkward at first; Abbacchio isn’t the best conversationalist, but he did try to seem somewhat engaged in whatever you had to say.

with time, however, it became easier. less awkward. Abbacchio shares whatever wine (and gossip) he has at his disposal that week. you find that his humor can be quite dry once you melt through that icy exterior. and with more time, you start to notice the tiniest smiles when you pop by.

he’s also less fussy when you ask him to do your makeup. before he would roll his eyes and ask when you were next available, but now... he just says to come by that Friday night. not without some minor teasing, though you found that to be a part of his charm. (plus, the fact you were breaking through to him was exciting in itself.)

he’s incredibly gentle when he does your makeup. he always holds your chin as he dabs liquid foundation onto your face, his hand moving your head for those hard-to-reach areas. when he does your eyeshadow, you can feel that same hand cup your cheek to keep you steady. though intimate, it’s not uncomfortable.

whenever he caught you staring at him, Abbacchio would ask what you were looking at. recently, however, you’ve noticed he merely purses his lips, swallows, and looks away. ↳ “huh. would’ve never known you could look so stunning. you’re welcome.”

his rude teasing made its appearance after eight visits. it’s an awful attempt to deny his feelings. maybe you’ll back off if he’s mean enough. but the way you smile at him after every session, how you shamelessly compliment him... he can’t help himself. he has to get closer to you in any way that he can.

giorno giovanna.

Giorno gets closer to you by asking you to help him with his hair.

you’d often watch girls fawn over Giorno whenever you went on patrols with him. and it’s warranted: his chiseled cheekbones, long lashes, and defined physique had him rival the Roman statues that lined Naples. everything about him is a piece of art. including his hair.

you caught him struggling to braid his hair shortly before your next patrol. strands would be thicker than others, and in one case, you watched as his hair tie snapped between his fingers. he obviously needed help. ↳ “well, if you’re offering. be my guest.”

so you got to work. it wasn’t a big deal; part of the issue was that Giorno couldn’t see the back of his head. you separated his hair into three strands, weaved them between each other, and tied the ends of his hair into a loop. just as you’d always seen him do it.

but once you finished, Giorno was hooked. the way your fingernails dragged along his scalp, how you were so careful to not pull his hair... it was wonderful. such a small action that felt so personal to him.

he asks you to help him with his hair whenever he can. not too frequently that you’d catch on, though. and he knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t deny his request. you’re far too kind. it’s a little manipulative on his end, but he’s also aware that you wouldn’t mind.

it never feels awkward. he asks you about your day while you work. sometimes he gives you a briefing about what’s on the agenda. though it seems casual on your end, as mentioned, Giorno finds the experience quite intimate. ↳ “I don’t know what it is, but something about your touch is enough to make me feel so relaxed. ...ah, excuse me. was that too forward?”

that statement comes out after you’ve braided Giorno’s hair ten times. by that point, you’ve started to think that he doesn’t really need help with his hair. the fact that he’s started producing flowers to put in your own hair was a dead giveaway. but can you blame him? he loves seeing you blush as he tucks daisies behind your ear.

guido mista.

Mista gets closer to you by showing you his favorite quick eats.

as a long-standing resident of Naples, the gunslinger is aware of all the best restaurants in the city. from hole-in-the walls to elegant restaurants, he knows ‘em all. he has a particular soft spot for the former.

you’re the opposite of him: new to Naples and unaware of what foods await you. Mista takes it upon himself to change that. ↳ “you’ve never heard of Sorbillo and you’ve been living here for how long? ...alright, well. we’re gonna change that. you and me, Sorbillo, this Saturday.”

and thus a new tradition began. whenever you and Mista had a free Saturday night, you’d meet at whatever restaurant he recommended that week. sometimes it was seafood, other nights it was pizza, but it was always something extremely delicious (and extremely unforgettable).

he caters his choices to what you’re in the mood for. Mista’s not a picky eater by any means (so long as it’s not in fours), so he’s down for whatever you want. plus, it lets him get to know your tastes a little better.

he’s a great conversationalist. he can keep you distracted from long lines and longer food prep times. you never get the impression that he’s just making small talk, because honestly, he’s not. he genuinely wants to get to know you better. he usually asks about your life before Passione.

your weekly outings originally started as a fun hangout between two friends. but during one chilly night, Mista was quick to notice your shivering. he wasted no time in giving you his coat and hat. ↳ “hey, you don’t ever get... I dunno... bored of this, do you? I know we’ve been doing this for a while and... if you ever wanna stop, you can let me know.”

that question came up after your seventh outing. you’d never seen the gunslinger get embarrassed like this. it only comes up because Mista’s realizing how much he loves being around you. he loves when your eyes widen as you take that first bite, he loves when muse how good the food is. he needs to know where you stand before he gets too invested because honestly, he’s starting to love you as well.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia gets closer to you by asking you to help him read.

Fugo’s not the best tutor. bless him, he tries, but Narancia isn’t the best student either. the latter often spaces out while working. and when he doesn’t, he tries to distract Fugo with some meaningless chatter to end the session sooner. Fugo was quick to catch onto this.

as a result, he turned to you to tutor Narancia. it started as a joke. “if [Name] can’t do it, no one can,” he laughed. the pupil, however, was more than happy to switch tutors. ↳ “fine! [Name]’ll be a better teacher than you ever were!!”

and like that, you were Narancia’s new tutor. not that you minded. it would benefit the whole team if he could read above a primary school level. every Tuesday and Thursday, an hour before the gang’s meetings at Libeccio, you and Narancia would grab a table and go over his reading material. sometimes Fugo joins to watch Narancia’s progress, sometimes Mista to hang out and enjoy a slice of cake, but it’s normally a one-on-one lesson.

Narancia quickly realizes that he likes those lessons best. it’s much easier when the others aren’t teasing him for his inability to read words like “signorile.” plus, he likes his time alone with you. you don’t laugh. you never judge him. if he has a question, he doesn’t feel stupid to come to you about it, even outside of tutoring sessions.

he’s still distracted when he’s with you, but half the time it’s intentional, half the time it’s not. he just wants to learn more about you. he’ll take breaks between questions to ask you about yourself. Narancia usually sticks to questions regarding your hobbies and interests. lord help you if you share the same music taste because he’ll want to share all his favorite tunes with you.

lately he’s been quite diligent with his work. he’ll go a chapter ahead of what you’ve scheduled and... oh my, are those annotations? you’d never seen him smile brighter than when you praised him for his hard work. ↳ “what are we gonna do once my reading is like... really good? we’re not just gonna stop, are we?”

he asks you this after your fourth session. the question came up rather early, honestly. but Narancia was already having a lot of fun after working with you. he knew that this was going to be something worth his time. and when he saw your own smile, he knew that you were worth everything, too.

pannacotta fugo.

Fugo gets closer to you by requesting your help planning missions.

most of the gang’s missions are planned by Fugo himself. while he is a college dropout, he still spent hundreds of hours studying Italian history and law. he can be trusted to help the escort team avoid law enforcement.

but there was one job he couldn’t wrap his head around. it was a breaking-and-entering mission meant for Bucciarati and Narancia. they were supposed to cross through an Armani outlet, yet... the security was fool proof. there was no way to cleanly get through it, even with Bucciarati’s Sticky Fingers. that was when you came in and proved him wrong. ↳ “[Name], would you mind helping me with this next mission? it’s a reconnaissance job for Abbacchio.”

he started coming to you whenever he felt stuck. you’re one of the few people he trusts with a task as important as this one. besides, you’d already proved that you were more than capable to untangle tough situations.

working with you is a mixed bag, though. sure, you help Fugo resolve his questions, but you make him feel so... small. it’s not that you do it on purpose. it’s just that being smart is all that he has. it’s all he’s ever known. and here you come, making these problems seem like they were nothing.

yet he can’t get enough of you. you don’t make it seem like these things are a big deal. he loves when you place your hand on his arm and praise him when he figures it out himself. god, he hates that he can’t look you in the eye; he can only imagine how lovely you look when you’re glowing.

there’s one moment that will stick with you forever. it was an infiltration mission meant for the whole team, the eleventh job you’d worked on with him. it took hours of back-and-forth bantering, Fugo having to leave the room to go scream outside, and one of Narancia’s awful energy drinks until Fugo figured it out. and when he did, you’ll never forget how he was beaming, his fingers laced with yours as he thanked you for your help. it’s too bad it didn’t last that long, for he quickly became embarrassed and turned away. ↳ “[Name]! I have another mission to work on with you! when are you free?”

Fugo saw you as his planning partner after that occurrence. he came to you with every mission he received; after all, he needs you to make sure that there aren’t any holes. he wants to chase every high he can with you. hell, every low if you’ll let him. he wants to do everything and more with you.

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #bucci gang #golden wind #Giorno Giovanna #Pannacotta Fugo #Bruno Bucciarati #Narancia Ghirga #guido mista #leone abbacchio #headcanons #long post #drugs/#WHEW it took me two days to write this #I kept getting burnt out :')#it's been a hot minute since I wrote something like this #but I'm so happy w how it came out!!

308 notes · View notes

ahiddenpath · 3 years ago

Text

Puits D’Amour Sneak Peek

Puits D’Amour (a suggestive French pastry, well of love) is my upcoming Sorato royalty/bakery + coffeeshop AU that keeps threatening to expand out of control. You can read the initial blurb here. I’ve been developing it more, and I wanna blab about it beneath the cut.

So the basic premise is that Yamato’s father is the king of not-Japan, and his mother was a princess of not-France, now the queen of not-Japan. They married to solidify peace between the warring countries, and they had two kids: Yamato, crown prince, and his younger brother, Takeru.

The brothers spent a lot of time in not-France as a sign of goodwill, but as Yamato grows older, his presence is required in not-Japan, where he will one day rule. This is not good news to our boy, who would frankly rather be a normal guy in not-France, sipping coffee on walks in the country side and studying. Tough luck, dude D:

His return to not-Japan becomes a public spectacle, much to his dismay. Yamato ducks into an alley to escape the press, opens the first door he finds, and steps into the kitchen of a bakery, where he finds a young woman making delicacies from his childhood...

It started out so simple, but I keep finding myself thinking... Yamato needs someone to talk to on his trip! How about Jyou, a third-born son of an aristocratic family of doctors, who wants to help the community, but doesn’t have the stomach for medical procedures? He’s Yamato’s childhood friend, and utilizes his medical knowledge, planning/organization skills, and connections to make sure local doctors and hospitals have the needed supplies and information wherever Yamato travels. He knows he’s riding Yamato’s coattails- “the prince’s personal doctor/medical organizer” isn’t really a job- but the truth is, he does good work. And who else is going to remind Yamato to smile and try to keep his cool during horrible royal events?

And, naturally, a bakery can’t be run by one person, no matter how skilled. Sora needs employees, like Mimi, her star bakery cashier/waitress! Mimi practically runs the city’s gossip mill, especially among the students of the nearby college, and draws business with her looks, her conversation skills, and her bright personality.

Of course, I want a tight story- but suddenly, l realize that Taichi could make coffee and serve food, Hikari could sell flowers and help bake... I could even throw Eimi in, baking when Sora practices ikebana with her mother, and Koushiro as a customer (who is occasionally roped into helping out- I love the image of Taichi just walking up to him and throwing an apron over him when they’re slammed).

And, of course, all of my fics have a theme. I’ve decided that, for Puits D’Amor, I want to explore the concept of taking care of yourself today, even while you plan for tomorrow. That’s something I really struggle with, pinning my efforts and energy on future goals at the cost of today’s happiness. Obviously, working for a good future is amazing, but all we have for sure is today. This message is championed by Sora, who runs her dream bakery, even while planning to carry on her mother’s ikebana school someday.

I’m already dying at the thought of Yamato as a prince- he’d be so unequipped for it, lord. And then I catch myself wondering- bakery, royalty, coffee, flower shop? Just what kind of nesting doll/AU Frankenstein am I trying to make, here? And by the time I introduce all these characters it’s gonna be a proper novel. Maybe I should, um, try to trim it back while I still can?

I have no idea when I’ll start it! Or how it will actually go! I feel like all I’m really doing is gripping the feeling of comfort in a bakery run by lovely people: good food, hot drinks, good company. More appealing than ever, with... You know, everything.

Anyway, does this even sound interesting? Maybe I’m getting swept up in them cozy feels? What do you think, would you read it?

#puits d'amour #digimon fanfiction #sorato #digific #fanfiction #fanfic #au hell

10 notes · View notes

1kook · 5 years ago

Text

late fee

jeon jeongguk x (f) reader

summary: “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.” tags: f2l, flirty kook, jk’s obsession w/captain underpants, he’s a fuckboy but he’s a soft fuckboy dont get it twisted, campus boy crush jk(yes again), jk abuses the FuCK out of pet names, miss koo1aid actually writes some PLOT warnings: much flirting, nsfw bc of a lot of heavy petting, pussy eatin’, a lil dirty talk, very s l i g h t coochie sniffing, BUT!!! protected sex :) wc: 10.3k

i wrote another fic (applause) and the entire thing is based off my belief that jungkook 10000% would enjoy captain underpants books. not proofread bc i am a hermit and speak to exactly 0 ppl on here, que dios los bendiga

“Helloooo, sexy librarian,” Jeongguk says the moment he steps through the door, lopsided grin adorning his features as he swaggers over to obnoxiously lean against your desk. You can’t even pretend you didn’t see him, his presence so blaringly consuming, and evident in the way some dorky high schoolers glance over to gawk at him.

“What book are you checking out today, Jeon?” You muse instead, leaving your desk chair to head over to the stack of new books that needed to be stamped. As you turn, Jeongguk whistles at the sight, and you don’t even have it in you anymore to retort back the same way you would when he first started bugging you. “Also, are you aware that your copy of Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants is due tomorrow? It’s a dollar for every day it’s late—”

“You needn’t worry longer, baby,” Jeongguk interrupts, and the loud smack of a hardcover against the desk catches your attention. There lies Jeongguk’s Captain Underpants book, alongside the paperback copy of Beloved that has definitely seen better days.

You furrow your brows. “When did you check out this one?” You question, checking the spine to make sure the book belongs to your library. Much to your surprise, there’s no barcode on the side, and no stamp on the inside.

Your question goes unanswered as Jeongguk jumps into a full-length novella recapture of the hot frat party he’d been to last weekend, and how the Zeta Theta Psi guys knew how to party. That Jimin fellow that Jeongguk frequently mentions had apparently snorted a line of coke off their friend Seokjin’s broad shoulders just to prove his friend had godly proportions. It’s weird, but Jeongguk says it’s because you have to ride for your bros. You try to act uninterested, but Jeongguk’s a funny guy, really, and you can only hide so many chuckles with the sound of a stamp.

He’s in the middle of trying to cover up of one of his frequent trysts after accidentally exposing himself—”Don’t get it twisted, baby, I just took her upstairs to call her friend.”—when Namjoon comes out of the back room looking for you. He barely glances at your guest, before handing you a list of overdue books.

“Would you mind calling these people?” He asks, voice soft, just as everything else was about Namjoon. “They’re all a week past.”

“Yikes,” you say, eyes scanning over the list. Surprisingly, Jeongguk is still there, hovering over you as if waiting for you to dismiss him. “Do you mind, Jeon?” You say, channeling your best customer service voice. As much as Namjoon was wary of him, he still considered Jeongguk a patron in your establishment and hated to see him treated poorly, no matter how many library rules Jeongguk broke.

“Of course,” he sighs, and you miss the hostile glare he throws Namjoon when you whirl around for a highlighter. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he says when you turn back around, stretching ana rm in your direction.

Half of you knows exactly what he’ll do, but the other half of you, the one trying desperately to act like his advances have no effect on you, have you placing your palm in his. You’re not super surprised when he tugs your hand upward, pecking your knuckles with a flirty wink. “Adios, Juliet,” he smirks.

“Wrong language,” you inform him, rolling your eyes nonchalantly even though your heart is beating one hundred miles per second. Jeongguk cackles, loud as all hell in the silent library, before making his exit.

It’s silent for all of twenty seconds before Namjoon jumps right into it. “So are you seeing him, or…” he interrogates, trying to act like he’s hardly interested, but you’ve known and worked alongside Namjoon long enough to know he’s secretly the community gossip.

You ignore him, choosing to jam the buttons on the phone instead.

The weird thing about Jeongguk, was that, although he was notoriously known amongst the undergraduates (and even some graduates, because he just had it like that, you suppose) as one of the biggest fuckboys, he was different. Not to sound like every teen romcom you’d ever scanned, but he genuinely was. For starters, he’d fuck your brains out and then make you his best friend the morning after. He definitely had a very peculiar, and backwards, way of doing the whole one night stand thing.

All this you’ve gathered from your friends, who, at one point have had some sort of encounter with Jeongguk. Dahyun’s was last spring at a club event, when he’d oh so smoothly flirted with her for a solid hour before realizing she didn’t swing that way. Which is how they become close friends, which is how, by association, Jeongguk set his sights on you.

Your introduction to Jeongguk wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d been tagging along behind Dahyun like a lost puppy, begging her for some class notes, and had subsequently followed her all the way to your favorite meeting place. From then, he’d dropped his petulant, childish act and put on his macho face, chest puffed and eyes hooded as he devoured your very presence.

The next time you see him, it’s at a frat party where some guy had been harping on you go upstairs with him. Another weird thing about Jeongguk, he hated when other fuckboys didn’t utilize their brains. You assume it’s because it gives the fuckboy community a bad rep as a whole, but Jeongguk hated when guys were overbearing. So he’d taken the initiative to snatch you away from that fellow, guiding you all the way back to Dahyun and friends just to make sure you were alright. Somewhere along the way, you’d informed him you worked at the local library—”The one that does bingo on Tuesdays?” “That’s for senior citizens only, why do you know that?”—and he’d never left you alone again.

This time, he spots you in the dining hall.

“You come here often, dollface?” He says the moment he slides up beside you, instantly zeroing in on the burrito wrap on your plate. Like the little immature baby he is, his hand immediately snakes out to touch the precariously wrapped white tortilla holding the deliciousness inside, and you have to physically slap the offender away. He jumps, bumping into a girl standing in line behind him, not that particularly cares. “So, it’s fuck Jeongguk hours, huh?” He huffs, adorning his face with that uppity glare he mastered from watching Mean Girls on repeat a few months ago.

“Your plate is stacked, but you wanna grab the one thing on mine,” you point out, and his lips curl into a smile at your response. “By the way, your book is past due.”

At this he gasps, all real, no Regina George effects added. “You’re lying,” he chokes, switching his plate to his other hand, and you nearly jump when the muffin balancing dangerously on top shifts. He tugs his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, scanning through his remind app until he sees that his book is overdue by three days. He groans, staring at the ceiling in shame.

You nod, breezing over his inner meltdown. “Was wondering when we were gonna get the wedgie winner, or whatever its called, back.”

He scoffs, giving you an unimpressed glare. “Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman,” he corrects, looking so disappointed that you don’t have these bizarre titles memorized. “For such a pretty librarian, you sure are ignorant to these literary masterpieces.”

This makes you cackle, and your cheeks flush when at least three people turn to stare at your outburst. “You aren’t seriously calling these Captain Underpants books masterpieces,” you snort. Jeongguk shrugs, and you begin to wonder if he really is as airheaded as the characters he admires. “Jeon,” you try to reason, giving him a pleading look, because arguing the credibility of kids novels in line for lunch simply does not seem real. You must have been warped into another dimension where all pretty boys are as dumb as the movies make them out to seem.

“Listen,” he says, smiling when you grow desperate for him to prove you wrong. “I’ve read a lot of good books, but nothing tops a hypnotized superhero principal fighting crime in his underwear.”

You sigh, paying for your meal, and then, surprisingly, waiting for him to pay for his. You tell yourself it’s because you want to finish this conversation, but part of you just genuinely enjoys being in Jeongguk’s presence. Gag.

“I saw you with Beloved last week,” you carry on the second he’s done giving flirty eyes to the middle-aged cashier. “Now that’s a masterpiece.”

He nods in agreement. “But, baby,” he purrs, and the sudden switch from weird, 12 year-old literary enthusiast to grown as hell, suave bastard has you jolting a step that you try to play off by pretending to look at something on the ground. “How else will you remember my face?”

You blank. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Jeongguk gives you a pointed look. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t remember a damn thing about me if I did what every other stuck-up bastard did trying to pick up chicks at the library.” You tilt your head in confusion. Jeongguk sighs. “If I went in every rainy Friday and checked out a Tale of Two Cities, or Oliver Twist, or some other Charles Dickens shit, you wouldn’t glance my way.”

“Do people still read Dickens?” You say instead, glossing over the fact that apparently Jeongguk’s visits were apparently blatant attempts to flirt with girls. Finally, you find a suitable spot at a long, dinner table so you don’t have to sit completely alone with Jeongguk.

“You know damn well better than I do that that those wannabe sophisticated books have waitlists.” He shoves half a pizza slice into his mouth, and you hate how your eyes immediately laser in on the strong movements of his jaw. “My point is,” he says through a greasy mouthful. “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.”

You cradle your burrito in your palms, rolling his words around your head for a bit. Jeongguk doesn’t particularly seem like he’s awaiting an answer, munching through the mountain of food on his plate as you revel in your thoughts.

It’s right when you go to take your first bite that you finally come to a conclusion. “But have you ever considered I’m interested in you because I think you’re funny?”

Silence. Jeongguk stares at you through his fringe, pizza slice slowly going limp in his hold as he absorbs your words. Before you know it, his ears flush red. He splutters. “I-You think I’m funny?” He asks, cheeks slowly growing rosy as well, and his lips quirk in a cute way to the side, as if he’s trying desperately to hide his excitement.

You nod, because it’s true, why would you lie? “Duh. You come in every week and just talk about your day, Jeongguk,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I think you’re very interesting and entertaining without trying.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and for the first time, you’re thrown off by how adorable this man looks, lips pressed tight to contain a smile from your compliments.

Realization hits you all at once, but you’ve long since trained in the fluid art of avoiding your emotions.

“There’s a party tonight,” Dahyun announces from her desk, not even bothering to glance at you when you return from the showers. You hum, not really that interested in whatever is going on this fine Thursday evening. You plop down at your own desk, starting your skincare routine.

Dahyun lets you relax in the soothing motions of self care for all of three seconds before she adds, “Jeongguk wanted to know if you’re coming.”

You press down too hard on the pump of your moisturizer, sending a large glomp onto the tips of your fingers. “That’s nice,” you say, trying to play it off, but you doubt Dahyun hadn’t heard the little spaz you had, or that she couldn’t sense the way your body immediately lit aflame at the mention of him and you in the same sentence.

She turns in her seat, and you catch sight of her in your mirror. You avert your eyes right away, because Dahyun had many talents, and her best one was reading your mind with a single gaze. You maintain an aura of unbothered and uninterested, finishing with the rest of your skincare.

Just when you think you’re safe, Dahyun pounces.

“Y’know,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice. “He hasn’t slept with anyone in almost a month. In fuckboy time, that’s the equivalent of two years.”

You roll your eyes, putting away your products before trying to busy yourself with anything else. “He probably has, but with people who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Faintly, you hear Dahyun’s chair scrape against the carpet, and then suddenly she has you in a headlock. “Admit you like Jeongguk or I will throw your toothbrush into the toilet on the third floor.”

You choke, grappling her arms in an attempt to pry her off. “No,” you huff, switching tactics to tangle a hand in her silver locks. “Why would I confess to something that isn’t true?”

She shrieks when you give a sharp tug, sending her careening sideways against the foot of your bed, but not without taking you with her. “You are lying to yourself and to the entire librarian community, you sick fuck.”

You snort. “The fuck does Namjoon have to do with this?”

“He told me Jeongguk’s been bringing you Starbucks.”

Her reveal has you halting in your tracks, cheeks flushing at being exposed. “That gossiping fuck,” you seethe, finally loosening your grip on your friend. Somehow, you’ve ended up sprawled on the floor of her side of the room, nestled into the stupidly fluffy carpet she thrifted. She rolls onto her belly, propping herself up on her elbows to narrow her eyes at you.

“So it’s true,” she sighs. You shrug. “Well,” she claps her hands together. “Shimmy into that sexy dress from Windsor, we’re going out.”

You groan, rolling over in metaphorical agony. “Dude, I just washed my face. No way in hell, I’m putting on makeup now.” She considers your point for negative three seconds.

“The Glow Kit is in my bottom left drawer,” she announces right as she exits the room with her towel and shower essentials in hand.

The Glow Kit is in fact in Dahyun’s drawer, which is a little suspicious considering it’s the same one you thought you lost three months ago. Nonetheless, it never lets you down, and by the time you’re done with your makeup, you’re looking like a shimmering, little succubus in the hot dress from Windsor.

Normally, you and your self-esteem were rivals; never on the same page, always bickering, sworn enemies from birth. But right now, as you admire yourself in the closet mirror, you can’t help but marvel at how good you look in the slightly loose dress.

“Damn,” Dahyun says as soon as she returns, all fluffy in her towel. “You will fuck tonight, or else.”

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk smiles at you the moment you walk in, hooded eyes raking over your body in an agonizingly slow manner. Dahyun chooses then to do her party trick—disappearing without a word.

“Hi…” you respond, voice meek in this party setting. There’s more people than you anticipated, which is weird because it’s a Thursday and surely some of these people have morning classes. You can’t comment, though, because you’re here knowing damn well you have an eight am tomorrow.

The music is blasting, so loud you can feel the bass shaking the floor, sending jolts up from your toes to your head with every beat. There’s people in every crevice of this household, some even taking refuge on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Someone brushes by you, and you instinctively step closer to the wall to avoid being in the way. You should have known Jeongguk would follow.

He ducks down to shout into your ear. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight,” he tells you, right as one of his friends rushes by, thrusting a cup into his hand that Jeongguk doesn’t even stop to question. He takes a sip, then offers you some.

“Dahyun didn’t wanna come alone,” you lie, tentatively sipping from his cup only to realize it’s worse than any alcohol here: it’s Sprite. Jeongguk seems amused by your subtle disgust, immediately taking the cup back. You send out a light prayer for his stomach and his skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be out pulling hoes or something?” You say, trying to go for teasing and playful but missing by a mile.

Jeongguk grins. “Why would I do that when the only girl I want is right here,” he motions, and then does that cliche move where he places a hand by the wall behind you. The worst thing is, even though Jeongguk seems intent on pulling every cheesy act known to mankind, your heart actually races.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “you just like that I don’t charge you the late fees on your books.”

At this, Jeongguk genuinely smiles, nose scrunching up as he gazes at you. “False,” he argues, and then leans forward, same stupid dopey smile on his face. “I love a woman who snorts milk out of her nose.”

“Jeon!” You shriek, smacking his arm as embarrassment washes over you. “You said you would forget about that!”

Jeongguk cackles, all boyish and rough like he does when he’s around Hoseok for too long. Somehow, knowing you’re the cause of that charming laughter has your annoyance fading away, a soft smile crawling onto your features.

“I hate you,” you say instead, looking up and meeting his gaze dead on for the first time that night.

Jeongguk smirks. “Do you now?” He throws back, then takes a step forward. Your shoulder touches the wall when you take a tentative step back. You give a half-assed shrug, entranced by the playfulness that lurks behind his eyes. He gives you an exaggerated pout. “That sucks, because I,” he steps closer again, and this time he’s looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “really like you.”

“I…” you trail off, too hypnotized by the pink tongue that swipes across his lips as he gazes at you. There is no hesitation on his face.

When you don’t say anything for another moment, Jeongguk ducks down. His nose bumps against yours, his breath warm as it fans across your face. “Y’know, I’d treat you so right,” he suddenly says, and your panties immediately turn into Niagara Falls at the newfound deepness of his voice. You feel lightheaded from his close proximity and promising words. “Could make you feel so good, baby, if you just let me.”

You shiver, nearly jumping out of your skin when a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you forward gently. Not overbearingly, because you know the last thing Jeongguk would ever do was want to make you uncomfortable. He pulls you close enough that it ends up being you who steps completely into his embrace. Your trembling hands find their place on his shoulders, and Jeongguk has never looked more content.

“You... only want sex,” you softly accuse, and the only reason your quiet voice doesn’t get lost in the noise is because of how close the two of you are.

Jeongguk bites his lip at your words, and you wonder if part of him is surprised that you’d so openly say such a thing. “Not with you,” he says eventually. “Wanna hold you like this forever, ___. And if that leads to you cumming on my tongue every now and then, well,” he smiles, “all fine by me.”

“Jeon,” you scold, scared that someone might have heard him.

“What?” He grins, pressing impossibly closer. His lip gives the slightest pucker, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning closer, the hand around your waist tightening. “I want you, baby.”

You can’t hide the lovestruck expression on your face as you look between his mouth and his eyes, and you wonder if he’s being honest.

Right as you’re about to throw all your doubts out the window and kiss him, you’re bombarded with the sound of obnoxious air horns from a DJ who obviously knows shit about, well, DJ-ing.

You jump at the sudden sound, bumping your head against the wall behind you. Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you okay?” He fusses, all traces of that suave, heartthrob replaced with a fretful Jeon.

“I’m fine,” you say, though you’re not because you’re absolutely dying right now. From the fact you almost gave into Jeongguk but also the embarrassment of hitting your head. “I-I need to find Dahyun,” you announce, and give Jeongguk no time to process that before you’re bolting into the crowded house like you just broke something.

jeon tell me you got home safe jeon please

You pause in the middle of removing your makeup, one eyelash on to symbolize the mess you are right now. Dahyun is humming some tune as she does the same, the both of you clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks. Carefully, you pick up your phone.

you im home! me and the girls ubered home lol you sorry i didnt get to say goodbye :(

jeon dont worry abt it babe jeon just happy to know ur ok

“You better be texting Jeongguk, since you failed to complete the one job you had tonight,” Dahyun calls and you curse. You whirl around to face her, and she snorts at your one eyelash.

“Be honest,” you say. “If you were the campus crush who could get coochie every time he breathed, would you leave all that for me?”

Dahyun freezes. “Well, not when you’re only wearing one eyelash.” You groan, flopping into your seat uncomfortably. “Babe,” Dahyun sighs, as if sensing the gravity of your dilemma. “You’re hot! Everyone knows this except you.”

“But am I?” You whine. “Am I attractive or do you just feel obligated to say that because you’re my friend, be honest.”

“Oh my god,” she huffs, climbing into her bed, phone in hand. She doesn’t even bother looking your way when she’s all settled in. “You have this weird idea that Jeongguk is some intangible idol, as if you haven’t seen the dude deepthroat an entire bratwurst at the diversity fair. If anything, you’re the dream girl on campus, you stupid bitch.”

“The only true thing I heard is me being a stupid bitch,” you mope, and Dahyun throws a pillow at your face. You take this attack as initiative to finally take off your other lash, finishing your cleansing and moisturizing (for the second time) routine.

“Listen,” she says, setting her phone down to stare you dead in the eye. Her voice is devoid of any emotion. “If it makes you feel better, he wrote JK + __ on our group handout last week.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The last person you’re expecting to see at this secluded cafe on a Saturday morning was Jeon Jeongguk, yet here he was in all his delicious morning glory. By morning glory, you mean the soft, sleepy eyes that stare at you from across the table, voice so deep and husky.

“Why are you here if you just woke up?” You interrogate, settling into the empty seat in front of him. Carefully, you begin pulling things out of your bag, trying your best to not look away too long. This sight was rare, Jeongguk usually being at an energy level of about eighty seven at all times. To see him so tired and sluggish was unheard of.

He gestures over to where Taehyung is in the middle of what looks like a job interview. “Moral support,” Jeongguk informs you. You nod in understanding, before returning your gaze to the sleepy angel in front of you.

He’s ridiculously tired, eyes dropping shut every time you so much as pause for a second. He seems apologetic too, murmuring I’m sorry I’m sorry whenever his eyes flutter shut. Your heart was going haywire at the sight. “Jeon,” you say softly, and get one, soft hum in response. “I think you should go home, Taehyung seems fine.”

He shakes his head. “Needs me,” he murmurs, trying desperately to snap his eyes back open to no avail. Eventually, you make the call, packing your things up way earlier than usual. You haul Jeongguk out of his seat, him sleepily trailing after you as you drag him out of the shop. He sleeps on the short bus ride back to campus, and even almost sleeps on the elevator up to his dorm.

“In we go,” you announce, unlocking his door before nudging him inside. His roommate is nowhere to be found, oddly enough given the early hour. Jeongguk stumbles inside, plopping down on his bed right away. “Sleep.”

He lets out a high pitched whine the moment you turn to leave. “Come cuddle,” he huffs, face pressed against his pillow. His hair’s haloed around him, pout smushed against the cushion as he stares at you.

“You need to sleep,” you point out.

He rolls onto his back, patting the mattress beside him. “Wanna feel you,” he says. Your cheeks flush red. As if realizing the meaning behind his words, sleepy little Jeongguk takes the initiative to push you further. “Pressed against my body,” he drawls, his deep chuckle resonating throughout your body. “C’mon, baby, too scared to be in bed with me?”

You scoff, though your cheeks are warm. “You wouldn’t do anything anyway, you’re half asleep.”

Jeongguk shrugs, lips quirking to the side as he motions to his side again. “So? Can tell you like it slow anyway,” he grunts, before sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed and assuming a sitting position. Without warning, he catches your wrist in his hand and tugs you between his spread thighs.

He’s more awake than he’s been all morning, and part of you is happy but the other is anxious. God, was this boy dangerous.

“You’re half asleep, Jeon,” you say, trying to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. Jeongguk smiles up at you.

“Cmon, baby,” he exhales, and one fluid tug has you plopping onto his thigh. You startle at the sudden change, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. All he does is laugh some more, nuzzling his face against your neck as your heart goes into panic mode. “Bet I could get in so deep,” he murmurs, breath tickling your neck and you feel your legs turn to jelly.

“G-Gguk,” you try to warn, but it ends up sounding more like a plea. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

A sudden kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder has your spirit ascending into another plane. Jeongguk smiles at your pliant body. “Look at you,” he continues, kissing down your neck until your body is physically quivering. “So sensitive. No one ever touched you like this before, doll?”

You shake your head no, and nearly jump out of your own skin when a hand clasps onto the inside of your thigh. “Jeon, we shouldn’t…” you choke out, even though your traitorous hand clamps down on his and pushes it closer to where you need him most.

“We shouldn’t?” He teases, and then cups your sex.

You transcend.

Jeongguk laughs, airy chuckles fanning across your jaw. “Then stop,” he tells you, the both of you watching as your hips unconsciously grind into his palm. Even when you tell yourself you need to stop, your body feels heavenly being touched by him, so you physically can’t.

“I can’t,” you reiterate, and muffle a moan against the side of his face when he presses a finger down on where he knows your clit is hiding. The thin leggings you’d worn did nothing to spare you.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs, watching you work yourself on his hand. He traces his index finger over the seam of your leggings, where your folds meet and you moan again. “You gonna let me finish you off, princess? Gonna let me finger your tight little pussy until you cry? But I bet you’d make the prettiest noises if I licked you down there. Or are you gonna cum in your panties like this?”

All the different ideas he stuffs into your brain are overwhelming, especially when the only thing you really want is to be stuffed with his fingers and cock. “J-Just do it,” you beg.

“Do what?” He plays, watching the way your face contorted with every brush against your mound.

“Whatever you want,” you cry, biting down on your fist to stop any more noises from spilling out.

Jeongguk smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Such a simple gesture, but it has your stomach somersaulting. God, you needed this. You were practically sobbing for his dick, which was embarrassing in itself, but actually getting dicked down sort of cancelled it out. PEMDAS or whatever.

Just as his hand creeps to the hem of your leggings, there’s a rattle of the doorknob, and you jump. The cloud of lust that had engulfed you two fades away and you’re suddenly aware of the jingling of a key outside.

“What the fuck,” Jeongguk whisper-shouts, looking absolutely scandalized that his roommate is coming home at this moment of all moments.

“Should I hide?” You whisper back, never having been in such a situation before. Jeongguk looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Just,” he sighs, standing up. He ruffles his hair anxiously. “Just… act natural.”

You sit perfectly still. “Not like a Sim!!”

“Captain Underpants and the Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space (and the Subsequent Assault of the Equally Evil Lunchroom Zombie Nerds),” you read, gasping for breath by the end of it. Jeongguk beams at you. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Jeongguk says, leaning over the counter and watching as you scan his book under his name. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, writing down the return date on a piece of paper you stuff inside. “Please do, I’m absolutely dying to read this book.”

You hand the book over to Jeongguk, and try to ignore the way he stares at you for a second too long. Namjoon chooses this exact moment to take his lunch break, sauntering off whistling the the Angry Birds tune.

Right before Jeongguk can jump into an interrogation, the door swings open and Jisoo from your sociology elective saunters in, carrying the same mountain of books you had checked out for her two weeks ago.

“___, hi!” She exclaims right away. She, too, was infected with the same bimbo disease as Jeongguk, the one where they both had no concept of being quiet in a library.

“Hi,” you greet back, immediately standing to take the books from her. “Did you actually read through all of these?” You ask, trying to make polite small talk. You’re not particularly close to her, but it’d be rude to act like you didn’t know her.

She laughs at your comment. “Oh god, no. I just open random pages and reference them for essays,” she admits.

You try to make more small talk with her as you scan through her books, but the girl literally almost hit the material limit, which is fifty books, so you soon become consumed in scanning the barcode, briefly flipping through the book for any damage, and then repeating it all over. You’re not surprised when she drifts away, and you’re mentally cursing Namjoon for going on break now of all times.

It’s about ten minutes later when you’re all done, the computer’s library system going haywire on you, the same way it had when she first checked out all these books. You look away from the screen, standing to face Jisoo, only to find she’s drifted to the other end of the welcome desk, where a certain someone had gone to while you served her.

Oh.

You’re not anticipating the wave of jealousy that hits you watching gorgeous, smart Jisoo talk to Jeongguk. She matches him perfectly, both so beautiful it hurts. It’s when she says something to him that you snap out of it. “When can I come over again?” Soft enough that you wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been paying attention.

Jeongguk’s toying with a bookmark stand, but you still see the quirk of his lips on his face when she says that.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, so close yet somehow miles away as he says something back to her that gets drowned out by the thundering of your heart. You suppose it’s only natural for a guy like Jeongguk to flirt with girls, and he’d never said he only, exclusively wanted you. Really, you shouldn’t be as surprised.

But you are.

You’re surprised and, dare you say it, discouraged by the scene. He’d been so eager to finally win you over the other night, so much so that he made you feel special with every word he uttered and every look he gave you. You’d almost believed in his sincerity, but seeing him so easily converse with Jisoo about whatever past they have, served as a cold reminder that you and Jeongguk believe in two completely different relationship styles.

So you sit back down, gnawing on your lip as you try to do other duties, clicking around uselessly on your computer until eventually, Jisoo wanders back.

“Am I all set?” She smiles, and you can’t even find it in you to dislike her. You plaster on your best customer service smile, nodding and handing her back her library card. She thanks you three times over for the hassle, before waving goodbye to you and Jeongguk.

When the door falls shut behind her, you immediately drop the facade, though Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. “Whew. She left a lot of work for you,” he laughs, eyeing the big stack beside you. You don’t even bother responding, as, at that moment, Namjoon returns from his lunch break.

(How convenient! You swear this fucker had a sixth sense for knowing when work was about to become hard.)

“Joon, I’m taking my break now,” you announce, and Namjoon stares at you like a deer in headlights, the last bite of a sandwich raised to his mouth.

“Uh,” he says, 140 IQ and all. He glances behind you at Jeongguk, who also is confused as all hell. “Okay, then.”

“___?” Jeongguk questions. You stalk off, pushing the gate away from the desk before bursting into the employee break room right across from it.

You cry the moment you get home, and Dahyun jumps ten feet out of her bed in shock. Her girlfriend, Momo, is sitting on the floor painting her toes. “Oh no,” she cries, sweet and understanding in all the ways Dahyun wasn’t. “My poor baby, what’s wrong?” She asks, waddling over in the my-nail-polish-hasn’t-dried-yet way to hug you.

“He was flirting with another girl,” you sob, dropping your bag by the door as Momo continues fawning over you, wiping your face with tissues. Dahyun gets out of bed, cracks her fingers, and promptly announces:

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Initially, you would have let her. But after a while you manage to calm down, loud Kim Kardashian sobs fading into tiny hiccups as the two of them coddle you. You tell them all about what terrible, good for nothing Jeongguk did, and in true female solidarity, they vow to kick his ass for you. Eventually, you settle on not whooping his ass, just cutting any romantic notions with him off to avoid further heartbreak. After all, you were kinda friends before you had your little crush revelation.

It’s later in the night when you announce you maybe got 2% over him, which the girls count as an absolute win, but then Jeongguk texts you and they groan at the way you jump for your phone.

jeon hey can we talk ? jeon did I do something wrong today? jeon felt like u were mad at me lol, and then u took a really long break and I had to leave for class so I didn’t even get to see u again jeon just wanna know if everything is ok

You read through the messages a couple times, and wonder if he’s being serious and didn’t see anything sus with his actions, or if he’s just toying with your emotions. Momo tugs Dahyun away to give you some sort of privacy, and then you’re left alone in your thoughts.

you everything’s fine ! you I just wasn’t feeling well lol

He responds right away.

jeon please don’t lie to me ___ jeon I know what you’re probably thinking and I just want to say it’s not like that

For some reason, him saying he knows you enough to know your thoughts irritates you. He obviously didn’t know shit about you if he was out here making you look like a clown. Your fingers type before you can even think.

you lmao you thats funny

jeon ?

you you most def do not know what I’m thinking so please just take my word when I say I felt sick

jeon lmao. what do you mean...

you you barely know ME besides the fact I work @ the library and dorm w Dahyun. don't say u know what I’m thinking, bc that would imply you know me on a closer level which you don’t

jeon ok seriously what's up with you? jeon im trying to make sure ur okay but ur just being difficult as fuck

you I’m not being difficult I’m just being real

jeon ur not tho, ur being defensive for no reason at all

you so? we’re barely friends and we barely know each other, how I feel is none of ur business

jeon lmfaoooo, so now we’re barely friends?

you thats what I said didnt I

You set your phone aside when you don’t immediately see the texting dots appear, assuming your dry response is probably enough to ward Jeongguk off. Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from frustration or anger, but you guess it’s both. You’re not sure what set you off, the fact Jeongguk wants to act like he knows you, as if he wasn’t just chasing after you for some pussy, or the fact he wanted to act like some all-knowing being when it came to your feelings.

Eitherway, you’re extremely heated, grinding your teeth together when five minutes pass and he hasn’t texted you back. As if sensing the tension, Momo and Dahyun abruptly announce that they’re going to the ice cream place down the street, offering to bring something back to which you decline.

They leave, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. You get exactly two seconds of peace and quiet before your phone starts going off like crazy, all from Jeongguk.

jeon you’re starting to piss me off jeon drop the attitude baby. jeon bc I can be just as mean as u jeon and I won’t hesitate to make you cry

You blink. Every ounce of your body that had been consumed with an unknown anger slowly fades away as you stare wide eyed at Jeongguk’s messages. This was nothing like the Jeongguk you knew; he was soft and playful. He never raised his voice at you, and he’d never been anything less than a sweetheart.

you I don’t have an attitude

Is your feeble reply, too scared to reply to any other part of his message because you truly had no experience with this Jeongguk.

jeon so then put your big girl pants on and tell me what’s wrong jeon enough w this other shit

You sigh, snuggling into your covers as you absentmindedly tap the back of your phone.

you nothing is wrong

He doesn’t reply for a couple minutes again, but Dahyun sends you a text letting you know her and Momo decided to go to an event on the other side of campus, and telling you not to wait up. You reply back a simple ok right as Jeongguk responds.

jeon ok. so let me tell you what’s wrong then jeon you’re mad bc I was speaking to Jisoo today and she asked abt coming over jeon she comes over all the time jeon bc she is my roommates girlfriend

Your mind goes blank.

How embarrassing to have your mind read word for word, even more so when apparently, your worries weren’t even plausible. God. Instantly you feel stupid, replaying today’s entire scene and trying desperately to find something to catch Jeongguk in a lie. But other than asking that one question, there had been no other interesting talk between the two.

Your phone pings again, and you scramble to type a response, only to freeze at the words on the screen

jeon what blows me is that i don’t even owe u shit especially not an explanation jeon u don’t give 2 flying fucks about me. U just like the attention I give u and watching me make a fool of myself for u jeon I bend over backwards chasing after you, trying to get you to notice me, but you’ve done nothing to show me u feel the same jeon but you’re the one allowed to get mad when I speak to other girls? like u said “ that’s funny ”

Oh, no. Immediately your heart comes crashing down, and your fingers tremble as you watch Jeongguk slip away right before your eyes.

you Jeongguk you it’s not like that please you I like you so much, it’s just hard for me to

jeon to what? Get over your stupid stereotype of me?? jeon lmfao. Yeah that must be sooo hard jeon it’s whatever tho bc I had one of u too jeon my dream girl

This is not what you expected when he said he’d make you cry.

“Honey, you just have to talk to him,” Momo says the next morning, pressing a cucumber slice onto your eyes. You flinch at the initial iciness, but then relax when she brushes your hair out of your face. You’d gone to sleep a wreck, crying and sobbing as you thought desperately on how to win Jeongguk back, but everything he had said was true.

You’d done nothing but reject him since the beginning, had only just begun treating him as a friend, yet you instantly placed the blame on him at the first signs of trouble. God, he was right. You’d been selfish this entire time, and now he wasn’t responding to your messages anymore.

Dahyun nods from her cocoon at the foot of your bed. “I’m sure it’ll be easier in person, text convos are always weird,” she tries to comfort you. “But keep those slices on, those bags under your eyes are no joke.”

Momo smacks her calf. “Be nice! She’s going through a crisis.”

Right as you’re about to pay for your meal and sprint back to hide in your dorm, you spot a coconut head of hair facing the windows in the far corner of the dining hall. Fuck. Faintly, you can hear Dahyun’s voice shouting for you to stop being a pussy and go talk to him. You pause by the exit, one leg in one leg out, before saying fuck it. If worse comes to worse, you transfer schools and live with heartbreak and three cats for the rest of your life.

“I-Is someone sitting here?” You say before you can chicken out, and mentally curse yourself for stuttering. Oh, the social horror.

Jeongguk visibly jumps at your voice, wide doe eyes staring at you as if he expected to never see you again. After all, it’s been a week since your little fight, three days since you last tried texting him. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his plate, but not before tugging the hoodie of his sweater over his head in a classic self defensive tactic.

You slide into the seat, staring at the plate of food like you’ve never seen it in your life, never mind the fact you picked it out less than fifteen minutes ago. You accidentally scrape your fork against the bottom, and the both of you cringe.

Jeongguk clears his throat, hands clasped together between his thighs as he stares out the window. “Don’t you have work?” He asks, voice raspy.

You shake your head. “I took the week off,” you confess, hoping he doesn’t press for more, because then you’d have to tell him your reasoning was due to heartache.

“Oh. That’s nice,” he says, and then you fall into a pit of awkward silence.

You push the food around on your plate, hoping he’ll say something, anything to save the two of you. In the end, he stays silent, sleepily glancing out the windows.

When you look closer, though, Jeongguk doesn’t look much hot than you. He’s got the same bags as you under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than his usual messy style. The fact he’s wearing his blue crocs out in public only confirms your theory.

After a solid five minutes of silence, even your hungry stomach managing to stay quiet, you decide enough is enough.

You shift ever so slightly, until you’re somewhat facing him and clear your throat; Jeongguk barely spares you a glance. “The Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People,” you blurt. Jeongguk blinks, face slowly morphing into one of confusion. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze, having missed his brown eyes in the past week. “It’s your favorite one,” you announce. “Of the Captain Underpants books.”

After a moment, Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention away from you. “You’re not gonna win me over with that,” he says curtly, and your heart tightens at his emotionless tone of voice.

But you’ve done your research, and you’re not letting it go to waste. “You like George more than Harold because you think he contributes more. You love the characterization of Mr. Krupp the most, but you hate his theme song. You think the cover art could use some work, but you enjoy the overall art style. You hated the movie adaptation because Kevin Hart was in it,” you list, recalling every bit of information you’ve ever heard Jeongguk share about the stupid novels.

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, but it’s not the one you’re aiming for, so you switch tactics. “You hate the smell of bananas because you don’t think it should have a smell. You can’t put your left sock on first, because it’s bad luck to you. Your mom still washes your sheets for you. You know the lyrics to the original Dragon Ball series in three languages. You like wearing rings because it makes you feel like a pimp. You hate when Hoseok calls you the baby, because, according to you, you bench press his weight times two.”

“And a half,” he softly corrects, gazing at his hands, cheeks slightly tinged with red. You bite your lip, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his arm. He looks at you right away, doe eyes so vulnerable and scared, like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

“I said we barely knew each other, but that was a lie,” you chuckle humorlessly, suddenly feeling your eyes tear up just remembering the conversation. “I know so much about you because I love listening to you talk. I love hearing your voice, and watching you wrestle with your friends, and fight with Dahyun. But I never tell you,” you bite your lip, blinking your eyes to backtrack the tears.

“And you’re right, I made you do all the work and I’m sorry, but I’m just so scared, Jeongguk,” you admit, voice cracking on his name. Your press a hand over your mouth, trying to collect yourself. Suddenly, a soft hand gently pats your thigh, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “You can have anyone, Jeongguk, and you obviously know this,” you sigh. “I’m scared that I won’t be enough for you.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jeongguk says, voice soft in the way you’ve missed so much. His hand, shaky and unsure, reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of your eye. “Look at me,” he commands, and you do. “I think we’re both stupid, because I feel like I’ve never been enough for you,” he confesses with a chuckle you try to replicate through sniffles.

Suddenly, he’s close, forehead pressed to yours. “And maybe it’s true,” he says. “You won’t be enough for me, and I’ve never been enough for you.” Your heart aches at his words. “But that’s okay,” he assures, squeezing your thigh between his fingers. “We don't have to be right now, but we can try.”

You nod, clamping down a sob. “God, I hate how optimistic you are,” you laugh, and he smiles, cupping your face in his hands.

“And I hate watching you cry,” he says, fingers wiping your cheeks. Before you can say what you’re thinking, he’s snatching the words right out of you, “yes, I know I said what I said, and I felt like such a dick typing it, I made Jimin flick my forehead right after.”

You giggle, and he beams that dreamy smile at you again. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announces, and your heart thunders in your chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

And he does.

“I don’t know, I think Kevin Hart sounds great in this,” you mention, and you feel the hard scoff Jeongguk lets out from your position cradled on his chest. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” you defend.

“You’re sick,” he says, then pauses the Captain Underpants movie to engage in your third debate of the evening. You’re barely fifteen minutes in. “You think that weirdo did George justice? How? In what world?”

“Babe, it’s just a voice actor,” you placate. “No one died because Mr. Hart voiced him.”

Jeongguk splutters. “Mr. Hart—you don’t know this man! And something did die! My hopes for a sequel!”

You shush him, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Enough complaints, Rotten Tomatoes. We won’t even finish at this rate.”

Jeongguk hits play, grumbling under his breath.

Just as you’d predicted, you don’t even make it to the halfway mark before Jeongguk’s got you on your back, plush lips working yours until they’re bruised, tongue halfway down your throat. “The mov—“ you mumble.

“Fuck Mr. Hart,” Jeongguk says, kissing down your jaw like he can’t allow himself to miss a single spot. When he reaches the collar of your shirt, he wastes no time tugging it off of you. You whine, instinctively covering your chest. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, “here, look-,” he tugs his sweatshirt over his head, and you’re met with the strong muscles of his abdomen and pecs, “-twins.”

You roll your eyes. “Just kiss me, Mr. Jeon,” you tease, wrapping your hands around him to bring him closer. He chokes, and mumbles something about saving that for another time.

Before you know it, he’s kissing between your thighs, soft lips producing the most erotic sounds with every smooch he gives. “Can I take these off?” he asks, one lone finger creeping beneath the hem of your panties, right where your hip is. You nod, biting your lower lip hard the moment he begins sliding them down. His hands are soft as they glide over your legs, and when he finally tugs them away from your ankles, he wastes no time nudging your legs open for him.

“Don’t just look at it,” you whine, jabbing his ribs with your foot. Jeongguk grins.

“Sorry I stare, you’re just so pretty,” he smiles, and you muffle an annoyed groan into your palms. “Gonna eat you out now,” he announces, finally, and you uncover your face to watch the way he lowers his mouth onto your throbbing pussy, pink tongue coming out to lick at your clit.

The first press of the wet muscle has your toes curling, back arched. You’d been craving this for the longest, and just as you’d expect, it’s better than any fantasy. “Right there,” you moan, reaching down to tangle a hand in Jeongguk’s wavy hair, the other fisting the pillow beneath your head.

Jeongguk absorbs all your tiny reactions, toying with your clit just how you like it. He rolls his tongue around it, making sure every part has been in his mouth at least once. When he suctions his lips around it and moans like this was getting him off, your body melts. “Fuck,” you cry out, your thighs quivering around his head. Part of you wants to slam them shut, hide from his tongue and all its devious ministrations. But the other part has never felt so good in your entire life.

When Jeongguk decides he’s pampered your swollen clit enough, he gives it one final kiss, wet and slippery. “Good?” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your juices. You nod, probably already looking fucked out. He smirks at your response, and your heart backflips in your chest, when he reaches up to knot your fingers together.

He kisses your knuckle and you whine. “How many fingers do you want?” He asks, and you blurt out the first number you can think of.

“Eight,” you choke, and immediately flush in embarrassment afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, dropping his head to your thigh in a fit of giggles. He looks absolutely ethereal there, soft brown hair sprawled across your skin like an angel. “Smaller numbers, baby, please,” he chuckles. You shrug, so he decides for you. “How about I just use my tongue instead?” You think you might love him.

He settles back down, lips pressing against your mound one final time, before he’s diving in. You mewl right away, body becoming one with the mattress beneath you at the first brush of his tongue.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you gasp, hands burying themselves in his scalp again. He hums in response, and the sound has every nerve in your body lighting up. His tongue prods against your folds, slowly licking his way deeper and deeper into your cunt.

The worst comes when he sighs against your pussy, literally sighs, like he’s so blessed to be there. “You’re s-so good at this,” you cry out, trembling fingers twisting his hair so tightly that you manage to pull him off just an inch. He pinches your thigh in warning, before stuffing his tongue into you again, absolutely plunging into the depths of your hole.

Just when you think he couldn’t possibly outdo this, he jolts up suddenly, nose brushing against your clit. His eyes go wide for the slightest second, as if he really hadn’t planned that, before flickering at you.

To your utter embarrassment, he takes one long whiff, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure.

He pulls away from your dripping hole. “You smell so fucking good,” he informs you, spreading a fiery blush across your cheeks.

“Thanks?” You say, and he grins, shuffling onto his knees all of a sudden. You mope the loss of his tongue on your pussy, but forget about it the second he reaches for his desk and returns with a condom.

He tears the foil packet open with gentle hands, eyes weirdly zeroed in on that only. You nudge his hip, and when he meets your gaze, he instantly averts it. Like he’s suddenly shy.

Oh he was gonna be the death of you.

You tug his boxers down and get to revel in more of those bashful glances, but you soon forget about that when he grips his rock hard member in one hand, jacking it to its full potential. “Ready?” He says, one hand gripping your hip, the other his cock. You nod, and then shift up onto your elbows to watch him sink into you.

You can barely keep your eyes open, the second the tip of his cock brushes against you your eyes roll back into your head. You moan, letting yourself flop back against the mattress, chest heaving with each inch he sinks in. “Fuck, you’re big,” you cry, biting down on your fist.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah?” He grunts, and then stills as he waits for you to catch your breath. He gives you exactly four seconds before he’s thrusting the remainder of the way in.

Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched moan ripping itself out of your throat. “Jeon!”

“Relax, relax,” he croons, releasing your hip to lean over you, peppering your face in kisses. You’re heaving for air, so overwhelmed with emotions. “You’re doing so good for me, doll,” he comforts, kissing every inch of you until you regain your wits. “So wet and warm for me, you have no idea how bad I wanna just ram my cock into your tight, little pussy.”

You huff, heart still skipping by the time you grow familiar with the sheer size of his dick inside of you. When you’ve finally come back down to earth, eyes fluttering at Jeongguk, he gives you one affirmative nod before he begins really fucking you.

He starts carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break you with one push. You’re thankful that he’s at least somewhat aware of his own bear strength, but you’d prefer if he picked up the pace. Before you can file a complaint, he’s hiking your thigh up onto the crease of his elbow, and ramming himself into you.

“Could already hear some smart ass comment coming,” he groans, snapping his hips into you with a newfound intensity. You moan, trying desperately to reciprocate some movements back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” you gasp, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, scratching lone lines down his back. Jeongguk snorts, pushing in, and then grinding your pelvises together deliciously.

He rolls his eyes, then chooses that exact moment to capture your lips in his. You groan softly, body boneless beneath him at the gentle way he kisses you, like his entire life depends on this single kiss.

When he finally releases your lips, he’s huffing against your mouth, hips having not stopped a single time. You know he’s tired and so riled up; you’d felt the brush of his half-hard member from the moment you first laid down to watch the movie.

But Jeongguk was a gentleman, through and through. You’d felt the brush of his cock, and heard the thundering of his heart, but he hadn’t pushed you further a single time. He basked in your presence, waiting until you crept your hand beneath his shirt to finally pounce.

“I’m close,” you tell him, reaching down to toy with your clit. Jeongguk had treated it like the finest treasure earlier, but now your gentle caresses feel mediocre compared to the way he’d touched it. Jeongguk nods, the tips of his wavy hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. You abandon your quest to finish yourself off and focus on brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re so good to me,” you moan, lightly picking the corner of his mouth. “Don’t deserve you.”

He rams his cock into you, the arm not holding up your thigh weakening, until he’s leaning on his forearm over you. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, and you wonder if his orgasm is as close as yours.

A particular brush of his cock against your cervix has you seeing stars, thighs clenching around him. “Just a little bit—more,” you beg, body writhing beneath him, pushing yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“So perfect,” he praises, kissing along your jaw. “Come for me, baby.”

You nod, but not before cupping his face in your hands, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He makes a soft little sound of surprise, smile pressed against your mouth, and the heat in your abdomen finally explodes. You disassociate for all of one second, consumed in a wave of bliss never before heard of, his pistoning thrusts working you through it.

You nearly cry from how good it feels, throwing an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You’re babbling like an idiot, saying shit you won’t remember later. What you do recall is the chuckles Jeongguk had muffled against your neck, hips never faltering as he chased his own high.

He finds it a few beats later, the muscles of his back suddenly going rigid. He moans your name, somehow making it sound like it’s the best song in the world, before his hips begin stuttering in their mission. He eventually goes slack, slumped over you without completely crushing you beneath the weight of his muscles.

By the time you’ve fully recovered, he’s sliding out of you. Right as you go to speak, he stuffs two fingers into your sensitive cunt. “Jeon!” You wail, reaching down to push him away before you come again.

He snickers. “What? It’d be a waste to let it out,” he says, letting go when he’s decided he’s done his job, popping the digits into his mouth. You groan, trying to quell the excitement that builds in your chest from watching him suck your cum off his fingers.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, snatching his t-shirt off the edge of the bed to tug over your bare form. Jeongguk tugs his underwear back on, retrieving yours from where he’d flung them across the room. When you’re settled into the blankets again, you’re not expecting the laptop to return as well. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs, nestling into your chest. “Hit play, this is when Professor Poopy Pants begins attacking the city.”

#kpopwonderlandtag #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #mine

6K notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 4 years ago

Text

I think I wanna marry you

hello friends!! this is a request fill for Aubrey_Plaza_Stole_HappiestSeason on ao3.

also, in a previous work, I said cady's middle name was Allison just because I liked the way it sounded, but I was browsing Erika henningsen's instagram and found that she calls her cady Jane as in Jane Goodall, and I like that much better. so, its Jane now. enjoy!

“Damian!” Janis calls from the bedroom she shares with Cady in their New York apartment.

“What?!” He calls back.

“Is Caddy home?” She asks loudly, wondering why one of them didn’t just go to the other.

“No!”

“Then come here!”

He comes strolling in casually with a bagel, chewing a mouthful. “Wha’ you wan’?”

“Finish chewing, I don’t want you to choke,” Janis demands, knowing him well. He listens, thankfully, swallowing his bite and coming to sit next to her on the bed.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I want to propose to Caddy,” Janis rushes out. Exactly as she expected, he sucks in a large gasp, dropping his bagel to press a hand over his heart. “Can you help me?”

“Yes!” He says excitedly. “Oh my god, finally!”

“Finally? We’re twenty-two, dude,” Janis says, confused. She’d thought they were a bit young to be thinking of marriage.

“Literally everyone in our friend group expected you to get engaged before we started college and elope,” Damian responds, leveling her with a single look.

“We’d only been dating for, like, four and a half months by the time you and I left, what the hell kind of toxic relationship did you think we have?!” Janis demands.

“You two were absolutely revoltingly in love, you would’ve done it and found a way to make it work. I’m just glad you’ve calmed down a little,” Damian jokes.

“Hm,” Janis huffs, thinking. They had gotten into things pretty quickly in high school. Their temporary long distance relationship had actually done them a lot of favors. “Anyway, can you help me?”

“Yes, of course! How do you want to do it?” He asks, lying down on his tummy and taking another bite of his bagel.

“I was thinking when we go home for Christmas? Like, on Christmas Eve, maybe. I wanted to take her to some fancy ‘holiday’ dinner and then take her on a walk to the clearing by that pond where we had our first date, and propose there?” She says quickly. She’s planned it for a while, but she still wants to make sure it doesn’t sound dumb.

“Aww,” Damian coos. “That sounds great, she’ll love it. What do you want me to do?”

“Help me pick a ring, first of all. And then, since you’re coming back to Illinois with us, help me decorate the place with, like, candles and pretty lights and stuff?” Janis asks, looking to him for approval again.

“Done. You wanna go shopping now?” He asks, shoving the rest of his bagel in his mouth.

“Um... yeah, why not? I’ll be ready in a minute,” She says, pushing him to the door.

————-

Little did Janis know, Cady was across town with Regina, Gretchen, and Karen coming up with a proposal plan of her own. She’d asked them out on a coffee get-together, trying to bribe them into helping her plan everything.

“Hey, Cady!” Gretchen calls from across the café where she’s standing, flanked by her girlfriends. Cady stands to hug them, she’s been so busy working on her PhD that she hasn’t been able to see them much lately.

“Hi! I ordered for all of us, we’re over here,” she says, leading them to a table in the far corner.

“It’s so good to see you, it’s been forever,” Regina says, sitting across from her with Karen, and Gretchen next to Cady.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you guys! My schoolwork is kicking my ass lately,” Cady huffs. “How have you been?”

“Good! We got an axolotl!” Karen says excitedly.

“Aww! I love those, but we can’t have any pets at all in our apartment,” Cady says sadly. “What did you name it?”

“Louboutin,” Gretchen says with a happy smile. “Gina wants to give him a sibling named Gucci.”

“Aww. I wanna come meet him soon,” Cady says.

“Oh, absolutely! We’ll have a girls night soon once our schoolwork eases up a little,” Regina says happily. “What about you, how have you been?”

“Oh, you know. About as good as a PhD student can be,” Cady says with a chuckle. “But really, I’ve been fine. Um, I actually wanted to ask a favor of you guys.”

“Ooh, ulterior motive! What do you need?” Gretchen asks excitedly, still hungry for gossip like she was in high school.

“I want to propose to Janis,” Cady says quickly. All three girls squeal loudly and wrap her in a hug, Regina and Karen leaning over the table and nearly spilling their drinks.

“When?” Karen asks excitedly once they’ve sat back down.

“Where?” Regina adds.

“I was thinking Christmas Eve when we all go back home? Our first date was in this beautiful clearing in the woods by that pond, I was going to do it there,” Cady says quietly.

“Aww,” the three of them coo in the same tone at the same time. It’s frightening how in sync they are, sometimes.

“So what do you need us for?” Karen asks.

“I was hoping you guys could help me pick a ring, and set up the area once the day comes? If you can,” Cady asks. “And Regina, could you take photos? Like, hidden somewhere? I can pay you for them.”

“Yes I can, and no you will not. You’re my best friend, you get free pictures,” Regina says, shaking with excitement.

“You don’t have to do that, Gina,” Cady says, feeling guilty now.

“Cady, honey, I’m still rich. I don’t need your money. Think of it as a favor for me, I need more practice with photographing people anyway.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Anyway, are you guys free next weekend to go ring shopping?”

“Yes,” all of them say together again.

“Okay then,” Cady giggles. “What have you guys been up to?”

————-

On November first, Regina is sitting on the sofa in her apartment, reading through some emails for work and sipping her favorite peppermint tea. She decides to take a break when her phone pings with a text; her back is starting to bother her anyway.

She stands up to stretch as she checks it, trying not to be too surprised when she finds it’s from Janis.

snarkisian: hey reggie are u going home for christmas ??

notreginald: Yes, why?

snarkisian: are u busy on christmas eve ??

notreginald: Depends on what time. What do you need?

snarkisian: i’m gonna propose to caddy that night and i was wondering if you’d take some pics of it

snarkisian: i’ll pay u for them obviously

Regina sucks in a gasp. They’re planning on proposing on the same night?

notreginald: Aww, congratulations! I’ll see if I’m free, where and when are you planning on doing it? And you don’t have to pay me.

snarkisian: the clearing in the woods where we had our first date, around nightfall. i’m gonna take her to a fake christmas dinner first tho

So, they have exactly the same proposal plan. How cute.

notreginald: Let me check my calendar. I should be free.

She lied, she needs to talk to Damian immediately.

georgewashington: HUBBARD WE HAVE A SITUATION

damecupboard: What happened who do I need to kill

georgewashington: What? Nobody. But Janis and Cady want to propose to each other on the same night and in the same place.

damecupboard: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLT SHIT

georgewashington: Holt.

damecupboard: Bitch leave me alone

damecupboard: They have the exact same proposal plan??

georgewashington: Exactly the same, except Janis wants to take Cady to dinner first. Cady asked us to help get the area set up beforehand a while ago and asked me to take their engagement pics.

georgewashington: And Janis just texted me asking to take pictures for HER proposal.

damecupboard: Shit

damecupboard: They probably both want the same setup, we could work together and then stick you in a bush or smth

georgewashington: Works for me, other than the bush. I’ll text you later to find out what we need to order. Love you 📷

damecupboard: Bye Reggie!!

She switches back to her text thread with Janis.

notreginald: I’m totally free in the evening that day, so it should work out.

snarkisian: tits! are u sure i can’t pay u??

notreginald: I don’t want your money, Jan. Just spell correctly for once in your life.

snarkisian: noh

notreginald: Figures.

————-

About a week later, Janis and Cady are having their weekly date night. Every Saturday they make a commitment to go on a date. Sometimes they go out for dinner, sometimes they go see a movie, and other times they just go for a walk around the city and chat, catching up on the events of the week.

Tonight, they decide to do one of their favorite things: stay home. Damian has an evening audition and won’t be home until late, so they have the apartment to themselves.

They order in some Indian food, deciding not to cook this time since they’re both exhausted from the week. It’s peaceful, eating their dinner sitting across from each other on the floor, using the coffee table as a dinner table. They chat about how Janis’ work has been, what paintings she’s been doing in her off time, how Cady’s schoolwork is going, little things like that.

Cady cuddles in on top of Janis as they watch a movie, falling asleep slightly as Janis plays with her hair. It’s only about seven in the evening, but she’s so tired and Janis is so warm.

She about jumps out of her skin when Janis’ phone goes off. Their usual rule is no phones on date night, but they both are waiting on some important information so made an exception for tonight. Janis checks the message, her eyes going wide when she sees what it is.

“Cads, I’m really sorry, I have to go,” She says frantically, Cady frowning at her as she’s removed from her embrace.

“Go where? It’s late,” Cady pouts. Janis has never left date night before.

“Um... a work thing,” Janis says. “Emergency. I shouldn’t be more than an hour. Maybe hour and a half.”

It’s clearly a lie, Janis teaches art and tutors English down at their local middle school. None of her students would have an emergency this late on a Saturday night.

“Janis, you’re a teacher, what emergency could possibly happen this late at night? On a weekend?” Cady asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Uhm... not that work, something happened to one of my commissions down at the studio. I have to go check on it.” Janis says, proud of how quickly she came up with that.

“Oh. Okay,” Cady responds, still eyeing her suspiciously. “Be safe.”

“I will. I have my pepper spray,” Janis says, coming to kiss her goodbye quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, Cady is left alone. She decides to clean up after their dinner, throwing the containers away and washing the dishes they used. She’s deep in thought as she scrubs away at a plate.

She definitely lied to me, she wouldn’t even look me in the eye. And she spent forever picking that studio because she wanted somewhere good, if something happened to one of her works someone would have known how to fix it.

So where could she have gone? On date night? What was so important? Did she get invited to do something else? With someone else? Maybe I’ve gotten boring. I can’t be very interesting to talk to, all I’ve got going on is school.

That thought makes her pause. Janis couldn’t be sick of her. Could she? Cady takes a deep breath, switching to grab a towel to dry the dishes. She’s been down this road before, she knows she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. But maybe she’ll take time to gather some more evidence first before telling Janis how she’s feeling. That’s probably not a terrible idea.

Janis rushes to the subway station near their apartment, even more on edge than she normally is in public. She’d gotten a text notification that the ring she and Damian had chosen was ready, and wants to go check since she’ll be busy making Thanksgiving preparations soon. The shop closes in an hour and is about forty-five minutes away, so she has to hurry.

The shopkeeper looks a little startled when she throws the door open and dashes in, so Janis pauses for a second to make sure she doesn’t look like a robber. She smooths her hair and clothes and heads up to the counter at a much slower pace.

“Um, hi, sorry. I got a text that an engagement ring I ordered is ready?” She says gently.

The employee looks relieved upon realizing Janis isn’t crazy, sighing quietly. “Oh, that’s perfectly understandable. What’s the name for the order?”

“Sarkisian,” Janis responds, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

The employee heads into a back room, returning after a second with a small velvet box. “Here you are.”

Janis opens the box, gasping gently at what she sees. She’d seen it to pick the style, obviously, but something about seeing it in Cady’s size and presented in the fancy box makes it so much more real.

She’d stolen one of Cady’s less fancy rings to get her size, and when she compares them it’s a perfect match. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. Best of luck with the proposal.”

This guy is disgustingly polite, she thinks as she heads for the door. “Thank you!” She calls over her shoulder just before she reaches the door.

Once she’s left, she pulls out her phone to text Damian.

janjan: hey i just picked up the ring

janjan: can we meet somewhere so i can give it to u? caddy will be sus if i immediately go to hide something when i get home

damdam: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

damdam: Yeah I just finished my audition. I’ll be at that noodle place we like, meet me there

janjan: 📷

It’s about a block and a half away from where she is, so she sort of power-walks her way over. She’s still panting slightly by the time she reaches him.

“Lemme see,” Damian demands as soon as he sees her. Janis pulls the box out of her pocket, flipping the lid open to show him. “Oh, Jan, it’s so pretty.”

“Do you think Caddy’ll like it?” Janis asks, shutting it again and handing it over. She’s a little nervous about letting it out of her sight, but she honestly trusts him with it more than herself.

“Of course, Janjan. You picked it for a reason, she’ll love it,” Damian says as he puts it safely in his coat pocket.

“It’d better be worth it. I feel bad, I left in the middle of date night,” Janis says nervously.

Damian pats her shoulder comfortingly. “She’ll understand, Jan. Eventually.”

“I hope so,” Janis mumbles. “Dame?” She asks after a beat.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t we just meet at the station?”

“I want noodles.”

————-

They decide to have Thanksgiving with all three of their families together, since everyone was coming to them instead of the other way around. For New York, their apartment is fairly large, but it’s still quite cramped with everyone present.

Janis can cook well enough, but she had recently dropped an entire watermelon on the floor and was subsequently banned from helping prepare any of the meal. She’s in charge of keeping everything presentable while Damian entertains.

So, Cady is preparing the meal with her own mother, as well as Janis’. Ms. Hubbard and Damian both offered to help as well, but their little kitchen isn’t big enough for any more people. Cady is left alone with Ms. Sarkisian as her own mother heads to the restroom, deciding to ask the million dollar question now.

“Ms. Juliette, can I ask you something?” Cady asks. Janis’ mother had insisted on Cady calling her by her first name, but she never quite managed it. Her compromise is still using the title in front of her name. It suits them both well enough.

“Of course, hon,” Ms. Sarkisian says, basting the turkey.

Cady looks quickly to make sure Janis isn’t around before she speaks, talking quietly. “Um... I’m planning on proposing to Janis, around Christmas. I’d like to ask your blessing.” Cady has a feeling it’ll be given, but she’s nervous. They’re still very young, Janis is barely twenty-three.

Ms. Sarkisian gasps happily and comes to hug her. “Of course you have my blessing, I’ve been waiting for this day since you two first started dating. Welcome to the family, honey.”

Cady hugs her back tightly, relieved she agreed. “Thank you.” She hopes she’ll actually be welcomed to the family. Janis has still been acting odd.

Janis is ambling around in the living room, out of things to keep tidy for the moment. She’s trying to work up the nerve to talk to Cady’s parents.

When Mrs. Heron comes through to use the restroom, she realizes she might only have this moment to ask them. She takes some deep breaths, standing a little ways away from the bathroom to wait for Cady’s mother.

“Oh, hello, Janis,” Mrs. Heron says as she comes back, wiping some excess water on her pant legs.

“Uh, hi, Mrs. Heron,” Janis stutters. “Can-could I talk to you and Mr. Heron really quick? Um, alone?”

“I’ve told you to call me Betsy, dear. And yes, I’ll go get Chip,” Cady’s mother replies. She returns with her husband after a second, both looking slightly concerned. “Now what is this about?”

Janis swallows and puffs out her chest slightly for confidence. “Uhm, I want to propose to Cady. She loves you two more than anything, so I wanted to ask your blessing.”

Mrs. Heron gasps happily, coming to hug her. Mr. Heron is more stoic, but she sees tears brimming in his eyes.

“Oh, you absolutely have our blessing, dear. Welcome to the family,” Mrs. Heron says.

“Thanks,” Janis breathes. Betsy leaves after that and returns to her daughter in the kitchen. Mr. Heron wraps her in another awkward hug, eventually giving up and pulling back to shake her hand instead.

“You have my blessing. But if you hurt my baby girl, you’ll never see the light of day again,” He says ominously. “Take care of her. Welcome to the family.”

“Um...I don’t plan on it, sir, thank you,” Janis stumbles. “I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“I know you will, I just have to make sure of these things as her father,” Chip replies. “I’ll tell her to do the same for you whenever you propose.”

Janis feels tears prick at her eyes. She knows her mother is protective, but having an actual father figure is nice. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Janis.”

They head back to the living room, where everyone else is waiting. Janis shoots Juliana a look, gesturing for her to come over to her.

“What’s up, Janny?” Her sister asks.

“You have to swear to be quiet if I tell you, Caddy can’t know,” Janis threatens.

Juliana looks at her oddly. “Okay.”

Janis pulls out the ring box, prompting a gasp from her sister. Julie slaps a hand over her mouth, squealing into it and doing a little happy dance. “I get another sister! Finally!”

“Shh,” Janis demands. “But yes, hopefully. I’m trusting you with this. I’m gonna propose at Christmas. Can you take this home with you and keep it safe somewhere?”

Julie’s eyes go wide, shocked at the amount of trust her big sister has in her. “Yeah, absolutely. Have you told Mama?”

“No, I’m going to whenever she takes a break. She’s with Caddy, I haven’t been able to get her away.”

“Can I see it?” Julie asks, cradling the ring box carefully and opening it when Janis nods. “Oh, damn. She’s a lucky lady.”

Janis laughs, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, kid, glad you approve.”

“What are we approving, girls? What are you scheming?” Their mother asks as she comes to take a short break from the cooking.

Julie looks to Janis, letting her share the news. “I’m proposing to Caddy. Probably on Christmas Eve.”

Her mom raises her eyebrows, smiling widely when she realizes that they both have the same plan. She comes to hug her, trying to hide her reaction and keep Cady’s proposal a surprise. “Congratulations, baby girl.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet, mama,” Janis reminds her, returning her hug.

“Do you think she’s going to say no?” Juliana asks jokingly.

Janis pauses. “No.”

“Then let her congratulate you, Janny. She’s gonna say yes.” Julie says.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Mom, Daddy, can I talk to you?” Cady asks when Janis goes to grab a second plate from the kitchen.

“Always, binti,” her father replies.

“I’m going to propose to Janis,” Cady says in Swahili just in case Janis is listening. “On Christmas Eve.”

Her parents lock eyes, smiling at each other as they discover each girl has the same plan.

“Congratulations, darling. Treat each other well,” her mother says, trying to stop grinning.

“We will. I love you,” Cady replies as she comes to hug them. She misses the look they shoot Ms. Sarkisian over her shoulders.

Once their families leave, headed back home to Illinois in the morning, Janis and Cady have a moment alone in the kitchen as Damian tidies up the living room and heads to bed.

Cady comes up behind Janis as she finishes washing the last few dishes, wrapping her arms around her waist and popping up on her tippy toes to kiss her cheek before squishing her cheek against Janis’ back.

“Hi, baby,” Janis says as she switches to grab another plate.

“Hi,” Cady says. “Today was nice.”

Janis finishes her last dish and turns around, leaning to kiss Cady’s forehead and pulling her in for a tighter hug. She dances them around the kitchen, to a song that exists only in her head. Cady giggles when Janis spins her out and then pulls her back in to kiss her sweetly.

“It was nice. I love you,” Janis says.

“I love you too. I’m thankful for you,” Cady replies, popping up to kiss her again. Janis chuckles, kissing her back.

“I’m thankful for you too, Butterfly. Let’s go to bed, I’m exhausted,” Janis yawns.

“Okay, my love. I’m little spoon tonight,” Cady says.

“Fine.”

————-

Thanksgiving was comforting, but Janis continues acting oddly. She seems distracted, and nervous. Whenever Cady is around she seems on high alert, and spends most of her free time on her phone texting someone. Cady is worried.

On their next date night, Cady decides to go all out. She had told Regina about how strange Janis was acting and asked for advice. She had two girlfriends, after all. Regina had suggested being a bit more bold with her affections to see how Janis responded and going from there.

They have the apartment for the night since Damian is having a sleepover with Karen. They had formed a special bond over the years. They have get togethers every now and again, occasionally joined by Janis and Cady, and every once in a while Regina and Gretchen would join too. It’s cute.

Cady made reservations at their favorite Italian restaurant to surprise Janis, and picks out her sexiest lingerie to go under her slightly revealing green dress. She also decides to wear heels so she can reach Janis’ face more easily.

She styles her hair down, since Janis loves to play with it, and does more makeup than she’s normally comfortable with. She decides to leave her freckles visible, though, since Janis loves those too. She swipes on some red lipstick that she rarely uses and is good to go.

Janis is wearing a green button-down top and some nice black pants, sitting on the couch and waiting for her to finish getting ready. “You ready, ba-whoa.” she says upon seeing her.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Cady says, grabbing her bag and reaching for her. Janis pulls her close before they can leave, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her soundly.

“You look incredible. Is there some special occasion I’m forgetting?” She purrs after pulling back, miraculously without having smudged either of their lipsticks.

“No,” Cady says, fiddling with a button on her shirt. “Just wanted to try something new.” Janis’ reaction so far seems to be a good sign.

“Hmm,” Janis hums, looking at her oddly. “Okay. As long as you’re comfortable. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” Cady pecks her lips one more time before pulling away, taking her hand and leading her out the door. “Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Cady flirts rather aggressively throughout their whole meal; holding Janis’ hand across the table, listening even more intently than she usually does to her stories, even occasionally winking at her.

Janis seems confused by all the attention, but doesn’t complain. She follows quietly after Cady once she pays and smiles as Cady links their fingers together.

“Do you want to walk and look at the lights?” Cady asks as she turns back to look at her.

“You’re in heels and the shortest dress I’ve ever seen, baby, no. We can walk around but we should take you home to change first,” Janis replies, looking meaningfully at her outfit.

“You don’t like it?” Cady asks with a pout.

“No! I mean yes- I... baby, you look beautiful, I love you in this, I just don’t want you to freeze,” Janis explains. “And you’ll damage your feet walking too far in those.”

“Oh,” Cady says with relief. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“You want to head home?” Janis asks.

Cady presses close to her, fiddling with the collar of her shirt. “Yeah,” she purrs. “We can have more fun at home, anyway. Maybe you can help me get out of this.”

Janis lets out a flustered squeak, grabbing her hand and hauling her to a cab.

Once they’re both satisfied, Cady pulls Janis to shower with her. “Did you like tonight?”

“Are you kidding? Yeah,” Janis says as Cady gently traces the tattoos covering her arm. “But you’ve been acting kind of... off, are you okay? Did something happen?”

Shit. Janis is onto her. “No, no, I’m fine,” Cady says hastily. “I just wanted to show how much I love you.”

“Aww. Well it was a nice surprise, but I love you all the time, Butterfly,” Janis says as she pulls Cady close to kiss her.

“I love you too.”

Maybe I read things wrong? But what is she up to?

————-

They do actually get to go walk around and see the lights the following weekend. Cady dresses more sensibly this time, in jeans and snow boots. And a Christmas sweater under her coat, which she had talked Janis into matching. Janis had only agreed since their coats would be zipped up.

Cady looks around in childlike wonder at the beautiful lights decorating the neighborhood. She always gets so excited around the holidays. Janis doesn’t think it’ll ever stop being impossibly adorable.

She’s in the midst of trying to process that they’ll hopefully be engaged in about two weeks when Cady suddenly hauls her into an alleyway, pinning her against the wall and kissing her hungrily.

Janis responds in kind, pulling Cady into her and sucking on her lip as she slides her hands into the back pockets of Cady’s jeans. Cady moans quietly, threading her hands through Janis’ short, dark hair and pressing up on her tiptoes to be even closer.

Janis switches their places, turning to lift Cady up and pin her against the wall. Cady squeals in surprise, but locks her legs around Janis’ waist and pulls her back in, giving her lower lip a teasing nip.

Janis pulls back with a gasp for breath, but keeps Cady held against the wall. She groans happily when Cady kisses and nips her cheeks and jaw, letting Janis catch her breath before cupping her face and pressing their lips together again.

Cady is about to ask Janis to take her home so they can continue in private when her phone pings loudly in her pocket. Janis sets her down so she can check it. She blinks in surprise when she sees it’s a text from Aaron.

a-aron: hey, cady! i know it’s been a long time, but i just moved to NY and you’re one of the only people i know in the city. do you want to meet for coffee sometime and catch up?

“Who is it?” Janis asks, but doesn’t try to peek to respect Cady’s privacy.

“Um... it’s Aaron. He just moved to the city, he wants to meet for coffee soon. Would you be okay with that?” Cady asks.

“Damn, he moved here from Cali? At Christmas? Poor dude,” Janis says. “But baby, I don’t control who you meet up with. I trust you, of course you can meet with him.”

“Thanks, lovey. Let me text him back and then we can keep looking around,” Cady hums.

caddy: Sure! Janis and I are going back to Evanston next weekend, though. Are you free this week?

a-aron: does tomorrow work? i could use a break from unpacking. if it’s too short notice that’s fine, damian told me you’re working on your phd. congrats, btw

“What is it?” Janis asks when Cady grins widely.

“He’s been talking with Damian,” Cady says. “Didn’t Damian have a date the other day? And wouldn’t tell us who he was going out with?”

“Oh my god,” Janis squeals. “No way!”

“I think so. I’ll check when I meet with Aaron,” Cady giggles. “One more second, I’m sorry.”

caddy: Thank you! Tomorrow works fine, I’ll text you a good place in a while.

caddy: Oh and Janis says hi :)

a-aron: lol hello janis. see you tomorrow cady

caddy: 📷

“Alright, where were we?” Cady purrs as she pockets her phone again, pulling Janis into another smooch.

————-

The next day, Cady gets ready to meet Aaron around eleven and heads to her favorite local coffee shop.

Aaron is already at a table in the back corner, sipping a mocha as he reads a book.

“Hi, Aaron,” She says, heading over to him.

“Hey, Cady! Long time no see,” Aaron replies, standing and coming to hug her. It’s been about six months since they’ve seen each other, since he came to Regina’s college graduation party in May.

“I know, it’s good to see you!” Cady says as she sits down. “So, what brings you to New York?”

“Work, actually,” Aaron replies. “I was offered a job here and decided to go for it. I was actually kind of lonely all the way out in California. My college friends are all good people, but everyone I’m really connected to is out here now.”

“Like Damian?” Cady teases.

“How did-oh, did I tell you about that?” Aaron stutters. “It’s- we’re not, like, a thing. Or anything.”

“Do you want to be?” Cady asks gently. Aaron had come out as biromantic and asexual during his sophomore year of college. He and Damian would be cute together.

“YeahIreallydo,” Aaron says quickly before abruptly changing the subject. “Anyway, um, how have you and Janis been? Is she still doing art?”

Cady sighs, but smiles at the mention of her girlfriend. “Yeah. She actually teaches art now, to middle schoolers. And she has a commission business she runs on the side. And everything is great with us, I’m actually planning on proposing to her soon.”

Aaron gasps happily. “Congratulations, Cades! When are you doing it?”

“Christmas,” Cady grins. “Well, Christmas Eve. I have a lot to plan still, though.”

“I could help, I’m going to visit family in Evanston too. I’m assuming Damian or Regina is helping you?” Aaron asks.

“Regina, and Gretchen and Karen. Damian’s been busy with something else, but I’ve told him it’s happening,” Cady replies. “If you want to help, that would be great. Regina has been doing most of the shopping, I think.”

“I’ll shoot her a text later. Am I invited to the wedding?” Aaron asks jokingly.

“Of course,” Cady chides. “If it actually happens.”

“Cady, you and Janis are perfect for each other, she’s going to say yes. We’ve all been waiting for this since we were in high school.”

“But we were only dating for a few months in high school,” Cady says.

“But you’ve been in love with her since you met her,” Aaron replies. “I didn’t really notice it when we were together, but you never looked at me the way you look at her. I’m glad everything has worked out for you two.”

Cady is stunned. “Um. Thank you,” she stutters. “I think. So, what were you doing in California after you graduated?”

“I work in accounting now,” Aaron says. “Yes, it is as boring as it sounds. Um, I joined a rec soccer league for a while, that was cool. And I...uh, never mind.”

“No, what? Come on, you can tell me,” Cady coaxes, thanking the waiter as he delivers her tea.

“I dabbled in drag,” Aaron mumbles. Cady chokes on her tea, spitting it back into her mug.

“Oh my god! Really?!” She splutters. “Do you still do it?”

“I haven’t found anywhere to do it here yet, but technically, yes,” Aaron replies.

“What’s your drag name?” Cady demands excitedly. This is an incredible revelation.

“Lois Carmen Denominator,” Aaron says as he flushes. Cady chokes again. Of course he picked a math pun.

“Oh my god, that’s incredible,” she breathes. “Have you told Damian? He loves that stuff.”

“No, we, um. We’ve only met up the once. Somehow that didn’t come up,” Aaron says. “But I’ll let him know.”

“Yes! That’s so neat, you’ll have to let me know when you find somewhere. I’ll come to see you perform,” Cady says excitedly.

“Sure, Cades,” Aaron chuckles. “Um, has Damian, like, mentioned me at all?”

Cady grins. Now it’s her turn to play matchmaker. “Not by name,” she teases. “But he was going on and on about this super hot guy he managed to get a date with the other day.”

Aaron flushes again. “He thinks I’m hot?”

“Apparently,” Cady giggles. “Did you go out with him on Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, his voice a few octaves higher.

“Then yes, he thinks you’re hot,” Cady replies.

Aaron is doing his best tomato impression by this point. “Oh. Wait, what do I do now?”

“You’re so flustered, oh my god! Text him, ask to meet again,” Cady says. “He’ll say yes, he was a total mess when he came home the other day.”

“Okay,” Aaron says as he pulls out his phone. He taps out a message quickly, and his face splits in a wide grin when he gets a notification in response a few minutes later. “We’re gonna go see a movie in Evanston when we’re both there next week.”

“Aww, yay! You guys will make such a good couple,” Cady squeals.

“Uh, thanks,” Aaron says sheepishly. His phone pings again. “Oh, shit, I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“No, I should be going too. Don’t worry about it,” Cady replies as she picks up her bag and orders a to-go iced coffee for Janis. “This was nice.”

“It was. I guess if everything goes well with Dame we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,” Aaron says. “Later, Cady.”

“Bye!”

“Janis!” Cady calls as she slams the door to the apartment open.

“Jesus!” Janis yelps from her spot on the couch. “Baby, don’t do that!”

“Sorry. I got you a coffee,” Cady says sheepishly. “And Aaron and Damian are together. Or almost, anyway. They went on a date last week and they’re gonna go see a movie together when we go home next week. I was excited to tell you. Oh, and Aaron is a drag queen!”

Janis chokes. “He what? Oh, Damian’s gonna love that. He’ll have a hell of a time trying to explain this to us later. Don’t tell him you know anything, this is hilarious.”

“It is kind of funny,” Cady giggles. “Is anyone we were friends with in high school straight?”

Janis thinks for a second. “Kevin?”

“No, he’s aroace,” Cady replies. “He just has a pet lizard.”

“Good for him,” Janis says. “I guess gays do kind of flock together. Must be pheromones or some shit.”

“Homomones,” Cady says absently, making Janis burst out laughing.

“Yeah,” She giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. “Anyway, did you have a good time?”

“I did. It was nice to see him again,” Cady says. “But I missed you.”

“Aww,” Janis coos. “I missed you too. I was supposed to be working on a new commission I got but I kept getting distracted and sketching you instead. Thanks for the coffee, Butterfly.”

“Ooh, can I see?” Cady asks. She loves Janis’ art, no matter how simple a sketch it may be. “And you’re welcome, my love.”

Janis hands over her sketchbook, open to a page covered in little doodles of Cady’s face.

“These are good, lovey!” Cady says as she flicks through a few pages. “There’s a lot of them, though.”

“Yeah, I get distracted a lot,” Janis mumbles. “But thanks. Glad you don’t think it’s creepy.”

“Of course not,” Cady chides. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cuter,” Janis challenges.

Cady kisses her to shut her up, not even slightly taking the bait. “Thank you. I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Cady comes back quickly as she promised, but somehow different. She kisses Janis again in greeting and plops down next to her, tapping away on her phone.

“Welcome back,” Janis says jokingly. Cady either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, not even looking up. “Butterfly?”

“Hm?” Cady hums.

“Did something happen?” Janis asks concernedly. She can’t tell if the furrow in Cady’s brow is from concentration or concern.

“Huh? Oh, no, everything is fine. I just have something to... work on,” Cady says. “I’ll be done in a while.”

“Oh. Okay,” Janis says suspiciously. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady replies, but she still doesn’t look up. It doesn’t sound like there’s any meaning behind the words this time. That’s concerning.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Janis asks.

“Yes, Janis, everything’s fine,” Cady huffs, sounding a bit irritated.

“Sorry. Just wanted to make sure,” Janis mumbles.

“Thank you, love, but I’m okay. I’ll tell you if something happens,” Cady says as she finally looks up.

“Okay,” Janis replies. Cady goes back to her phone then, continuing... whatever she’s up to.

Janis pulls out her own phone, playing a game Damian had gotten her hooked on.

“Lovey, would you please go get my charger?” Cady asks after about an hour and a half.

“Sure, baby,” Janis replies as she stands up to stretch. She heads to the bedroom to grab both chargers, coming back and plugging them into the wall. Hers doesn’t reach back to her spot, so she lies her head on Cady’s lap and resumes her scrolling.

“Thank you, Jellybean,” Cady replies, plugging her own phone in and continuing her activities as she strokes her other hand through Janis’ hair.

After another hour or so, Janis gets bored. She clicks her phone off and sits up, but crawls back to Cady for cuddles.

“Janis,” Cady huffs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” Janis whines. “Snuggle me.”

“Fine, come here,” Cady pulls her closer and lets Janis cuddle into her shoulder. Janis gets comfortable and closes her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

She wakes a couple hours later, checking hastily to make sure she hasn’t been drooling all over Cady’s shoulder. She hasn’t, luckily, but she seems to have stirred a few times before, because Cady tries to shush her back to sleep.

“I’m awake, Cads,” Janis replies. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. Did you have a nice nap?” Cady asks. She’s still working on her phone.

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles and cuddles back into her shoulder. “Still working?”

“I’m almost done,” Cady replies distractedly.

“Mmkay. What do you want for dinner?” Janis asks from her perch on her lap.

“Huh? Oh, can we have tacos? I bought the stuff the other day,” Cady says.

Janis nods, but makes no effort to move. “Sure, that sounds good.”

She sits for a few more minutes before she sits up, deciding to try to squeeze in a make out session before she goes to cook.

But Cady turns away. She tilts her head so Janis’ lips end up on her cheek. Janis whines in frustration.

“Caddy!”

“What, Janis?” Cady asks in exasperation.

Janis does her best puppy eyes. They aren’t quite as good as Cady’s, but they do the job well enough. “Pay attention to meeeeee.”

“Janis! This is important,” Cady says as she looks over Janis’ shoulder to continue working.

Janis’ face falls. More important than me? “Fine. I’m gonna go cook.”

“Janis, wait, I’m sorry,” Cady says, reaching for her again.

“It’s fine. You keep working,” Janis mumbles, leaving her alone as she heads into the kitchen.

Cady comes in sheepishly when she calls her to eat. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I just- I have a lot going on, I took it out on you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. Don’t worry about it, I understand. Just tell me next time so I don’t push you like that,” Janis replies. “Now come eat.”

“I will. I love you,” Cady says, kissing Janis sweetly before taking her plate.

“I love you too,” Janis hums, kissing her back.

————-

Cady seems almost embarrassed for the next week or so, still upset with herself for making Janis sad. Janis tries to cheer her up, making it very clear she understands that Cady didn’t mean it, but Cady still seems nervous around her.

Cady feels like she should do something to make up for it. She hadn’t meant to ignore Janis like that, but Regina was trying to check that everything was ordered for the proposal. Cady wanted to step things up even further and had to tell her to order extra things. Then, an issue had come up with Cady’s card, so she’d had to fix that over text all with Janis asleep on her lap.

Janis had woken up at the worst possible moment. Cady was very much not in the mood for kissing by that point, but she knows she should have told Janis she was stressed rather than just turning away and continuing her work. Of course that had upset her.

So, Cady decides to make sushi for dinner. It’s Janis’ favorite food, and Cady thinks it had helped them start dating back in high school. She picks up the ingredients on her way home from classes and starts preparing everything while she waits for Janis to come home from work.

Cady doesn’t like sushi herself, so she makes her own ‘sashimi’ with plain rice and cooked chicken instead of the raw fish she uses for Janis’. Damian had a callback to go to and wouldn’t be home until late at night. She makes him some anyway and leaves it in the fridge with a sweet note.

“What’s up, fuckers?!” Janis calls as she slams the apartment door open. Cady jumps, nearly losing a finger to the sushi knife she was holding. She hopes that one day Janis will stop doing that every time she comes home. But, for now, it’s strangely endearing.

“I’m in the kitchen, Damian’s not home,” she replies once she’s recovered from the brief shock. “I have something for you.”

“Uh oh,” Janis replies as she takes off her boots and coat and heads into the kitchen. “Aww! You made sushi again?”

“Yeah. To make up for the other day. And because I love you,” Cady answers, showing off the maki rolls she had plated into a smiley face. “Tah-dah.”

Janis squeals, coming to hug her girlfriend. She had been a little concerned that Cady might’ve beaten her to a proposal.

“Thank you, Peanut,” Janis says. “I love you.”

“You’re welcome, mpendwa. I love you too. How was work?” Cady asks as she sits across from her at their tiny dining table.

“Good, actually,” Janis replies. “One of my kids actually brought me an apple after lunch.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Cady says. “Was it the gay one?”

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles in reply. She was one of the only openly gay teachers in her district, so she provided a safe space for a lot of her students. It was healing for her, in a way, to be what she needed at that age. “He told me to say hi to you, by the way.”

“They know about me?” Cady asks as she eats a bite of her special sashimi.

“They know I have a girlfriend, for sure,” Janis hums in reply. “If I had a dollar for every time they tell me to ‘shut up about your girlfriend, Ms. S,’ I could buy this whole complex. And I have pictures of you guys around, so I think they’ve pieced together who you are.”

“Aww. That’s so cute,” Cady coos, leaning over for a kiss.

“I’m glad you think so,” Janis chuckles as she kisses her back sweetly. “What about you, how was school? Did you finish that assignment you were working on?”

“Assign- oh. Yeah, I did,” Cady says, briefly confused until she remembers Janis thought she was working on schoolwork instead of her proposal plan that day. “But it’s for that one professor, so I probably won’t find out my grade until sometime during break.”

“That’s shit,” Janis says through a mouthful of sushi. “But good job, I bet you did great.”

“Thanks,” Cady chuckles. She uses her own chopsticks to feed Janis a piece of her sushi, and Janis does the same. Before they know it the food is gone, so Janis takes their dishes to the sink before coming to pick Cady up, carrying her to the bedroom for cuddles.

Christmas Eve finally rolls around a few weeks later. Cady and Janis are staying with their own families for the week, and they would fly home with Damian on Boxing Day.

Janis had told Cady she wanted to take her out for Christmas Dinner, so she borrows her mom’s car and heads to pick Cady up. It’s only been about three days since she’s seen Cady, but they’ve both missed each other.

“Janis!” Cady squeals, opening the door before Janis could even knock. She’s in a tight green top and dark dress pants, unknowingly matching Janis, who is in a red top and also in dark dress pants. Cady has on heels, though, to make it easier to kiss Janis.

“Hi, baby,” Janis chuckles, picking her up for a second and spinning them around. “Your carriage awaits.”

“Why thank you, my lady, shall we be off?” Cady replies in character with a giggle.

“Indeed,” Janis says.

They have a lovely meal at their favorite restaurant from high school, the same place they had eaten before their senior prom.

Cady holds Janis’ arm as they exit, the ring box burning a hole in her coat pocket. “Lovey? Do you want to walk a little? We’re not too far from that clearing you took me to on our first date, we could go there.”

“I was just going to say that,” Janis replies. “Let’s drive a little closer, it’s cold, but then we can walk.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Cady giggles. “Let’s go, it’s getting dark.”

Janis runs after her, as Cady hauls her across the parking lot.

They chat and reminisce about how far they’ve come as they walk through the woods, neither of them quite noticing that the snow has been cleared from the path they’re walking on.

Both of them grin when the clearing comes into view, each of them thinking they’re about to propose and the other has no idea.

Cady pauses in the middle, turning quickly to look around at the gorgeous set up she thinks Regina, Gretchen, and Karen have done, not knowing that Damian and Aaron also had a hand.

Lights are strung up through all the trees and bushes nearby, and candles light their way to a little altar, with a picture of the two of them together that says “Marry Me?” in what looks suspiciously like Gretchen’s best calligraphy. Snow is fluttering down around them, leaving cold little kisses on her face.

Cady is stunned when she turns back to find Janis on one knee behind her. She had known that they were probably going to be engaged by the time they left, but not that Janis would propose first.

She gasps in shock, covering her mouth with her hands as tears start pouring from her eyes.

“Caddy,” Janis begins, reaching for one of her hands. “Cady. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. You’ve changed me, changed my life, and it’s so, so much better with you in it. You make me want to stay. I don’t have the words to explain how thankful I am to have met you, and that I get to spend my life with you.”

Janis reaches into her pocket with her free hand and pulls out a ring box. Cady gasps again when she sees it. It’s a white gold band, made of two strands woven together. One strand is decorated with little diamonds, and there’s a larger one in the center of the ring. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“And I want to spend the rest of it with you, if you’ll have me. Cady Jane Heron, will you marry me?” Janis asks, holding up the ring.

Cady is almost crying too hard to speak at this point, but she manages to nod and barely choke out a “Yes, of course.”

She lets Janis slide the ring on her finger, choking back a sob, before she tackles Janis to the ground and weeps into her neck.

“Baby, please don’t cry so hard, why are you crying?” Janis asks in alarm, ignoring the fact that she’s lying in several inches of snow in favor of holding her fiancée closer.

“Because I love you,” Cady sobs. “I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy too, Peanut. Do you want to go look at what Damian did?” Janis asks.

Cady nods and rolls off of her but just holds Janis’ outstretched hand instead of using it to stand up herself.

“Baby, what are you- oh my god,” Janis says, confused until Cady also shifts to be on one knee. Cady uses her free hand to wipe the tears from under her eyes, sniffling and clearing her throat to try and get herself back under control.

“Janis, my love,” she begins after a moment. “I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize it, but I’ve loved you since I met you. I had no idea that the moment you saved me from that bathroom was the moment I met the love of my life. You are the most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given, and I treasure every moment I get to spend with you. I’m so excited for our forever; I love you so much. I know this is kind of a moot point now, but... Janis Olivia Sarkisian, will you marry me?”

Janis is absolutely full-on ugly crying by this point, mascara tracking down her face as she holds back sobs with her free hand. They’re technically already engaged, but she nods rapidly and sobs out a “Yes!”

Cady slides on Janis’ ring gently, a matching white-gold band, but more simple, with a single diamond in the center. Cady had also gotten the date they met, the date they started dating, and the date they got engaged engraved onto the inside of the band.

Janis hauls her up and crashes their lips together, kissing Cady so hard she thinks her lips might bruise as the cheers of their friends echo around them.

They both jump apart and scream as Regina leaps out from a bush, in a suit used by hunters and with her face even painted green. The rest of their friends also come out from behind various trees and shrubs, Damian climbing down from up above them and nearly falling to the ground until Aaron catches him.

Everyone comes to wrap them in a tight group hug, shouting their congratulations over one another. Regina stays out to take more photos before reluctantly coming and joining the cuddle.

“Reggie, what the fuck are you wearing?” Janis asks with a watery chuckle, still crying slightly.

“It’s called a ghillie suit. I didn’t want you to see me,” Regina answers as if it’s entirely normal for her to be covered in fake leaves and moss.

“We both knew you were coming, and it’s dark,” Cady replies, trying to hold back hysterical laughter. “You could have hidden behind a tree like everyone else.”

Regina apparently only realizes that now, scowling slightly. “Shit. Go big or go home, I guess.”

“Thanks, Reg,” Janis laughs. “Thank all of you.”

“Yeah, thank you guys! This really is beautiful,” Cady giggles. “God, Jay, did everyone know we were both going to do this except-“

“Us? Yeah, apparently,” Janis answers, hugging her again.

“Let us see the rings!” Karen calls, so they both extend their left hands for everyone to grab and coo over. Regina gets one more shot of Cady’s small hand resting in Janis’, showing off both of their engagement rings in a cute way.

“Okay, Damian and Aaron said they’d stay to clean this back up, Gina needs to go make herself... not green, and you two are probably going to go have wild sex somewhere, so I’m gonna take my girlfriends and go. Congratulations!” Gretchen cheers, hauling Regina and Karen away by the hand.

“Gretchen!” Regina scolds. “Congratulations, guys!”

“Yeah, congrats! Confetti emoji!” Karen calls over her shoulder.

Cady and Janis lock eyes once they’ve gone, both bursting into laughter. Gretchen was not wrong.

“Do you guys need us to stay for anything? I don’t want to leave you two here alone to clean up all of this,” Cady asks anxiously.

Damian and Aaron look at one another knowingly. “I think we’ll be fine, Cads.”

“Oh really? You’ll be fine here all alone? Have you two finally said it?” Janis teases.

Damian sticks his tongue out at her, but does reach for Aaron’s hand. “Yes. Are you satisfied now?”

Janis squeals and comes to hug him, Cady following quickly. “Good job, D, you finally got your hunk!”

“Yeah, yay!” Cady piggybacks. “But really, are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Cady, we’ll be fine. Go have your night with your fiancée,” Aaron says. Cady takes the poster from the altar, but is eventually persuaded to take Janis’ hand to lead them back to the car.

Cady had booked a fancy hotel room for the night, figuring she would either be having the night of her life with her fiancée or alone drowning her sorrows in ice cream and champagne.

Janis pins her to the bed instantly, tenderly removing her shirt and shoes as their lips meet again and again. Cady reaches to hold her head in place, before undoing the buttons on Janis’ shirt and flinging it across the room.

Janis pulls her close once they’re cleaned from their evening of passion, both of them wearing nothing but their rings (except Cady’s socks).

“We’re getting married, Janis,” Cady whispers excitedly. “You’re gonna be my wife.”

“Yeah, we are. And you’re gonna be my wife,” Janis replies, kissing her sweetly.

“I can’t believe this is what you were up to,” Cady huffs. “I knew you were being sneaky, I should’ve known.”

“You were the sneaky one! I thought you had some crazy homework assignment, I was wondering why you wouldn’t let me help you with anything,” Janis retaliates. Cady starts giggling then, seemingly at nothing. “What?”

“I just-I can’t believe we had the exact same idea,” Cady says between fits of laughter. “I was still surprised when you did yours because I thought everything was set up for mine.”

“Oh,” Janis says, laughing too. “I guess we’re just that in sync. We were meant to be.”

“Meant to be indeed,” Cady replies, pulling her down on top of her for another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Butterfly. When should we get married?” Janis asks.

“I’ve always wanted a spring wedding,” Cady hums. “Like, April or early in May, maybe. What about you?”

“I dunno, I never really... thought this would happen to me,” Janis hums. “I never had a dream wedding. A spring one sounds nice, we could do it outside. But do you really think we can plan a whole wedding that fast?”

“Aww, my love. I’m so glad I get to marry you,” Cady says sadly. “I think we could, if we really work on it. I don’t want anything crazy, and I don’t think you do either?” Janis shakes her head. “Yeah, so if we do something small, I think we can do it that fast. And if not, we’ll do it the next year.”

“God, no, I don’t want to wait anymore,” Janis breathes. “Even April sounds too far away.”

Cady smiles widely. “You’re too cute. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Janis teases. “We can plan more later. Come cuddle me.”

“I love you most. Fiancée,” Cady says in retaliation as she snuggles into Janis to go to sleep.

“Fiancée.” Janis replies, pecking her lips.

“Lovey.” Cady says, pecking her back.

“Baby.”

“Jellybean.”

“Butterfly.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Peanut.”

“Darling.”

“Kitkat.”

“Mpendwa.”

“Wait, I’ve always wondered what that means,” Janis replies. “And the other one, um-“

“Mpenzi? That means, like, love or partner, or favorite. Mpendwa means dear or dearest.”

“Oh. That’s cute,” Janis squeaks. “Mon coeur.”

“Aww, I’m your heart?” Cady coos. “How sweet, Bluejay.”

“You might as well be, I can’t live without you,” Janis says. “I love you.”

Cady cuddles impossibly closer, tipping her face up to kiss her again. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“Goodnight, fiancée,” Janis says as she kisses her goodnight.

“Goodnight, fiancée,” Cady yawns back, nuzzling into her chest and falling into a blissful sleep, Janis following quickly.

I can’t wait to marry you.

hope you enjoyed!

requests are still open, please leave them either here, on my wattpad, or on my ao3. all are the same handle, maybeimamuppet. it may take a few weeks for your request to be published, but I am cranking them out as fast as I can and I will get to everyone's eventually.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady x janis #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #aaron samuels #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls musical

13 notes · View notes

peakyblinderswhore · 4 years ago

Text

DAY 4 ⇨ FROSTBITTEN

GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff, Arthur is a big softie, Reader is clearly in love with him

PAIRING: Arthur x Reader

SYNOPSIS: It began, you could say, when Arthur got himself into the hymn singing group. You were drawn to him, finding yourself signing up for more things, saying “If you do it, I will too,” before causing ruckus at another group or gathering. This time, it was the point in the year where you went around caroling, kindly asking for donations to donate to the local orphanage for the children who needed it more than you did, an activity that you had always done but this year Arthur’s there, making everything seem that much better. It’s safe to say that caroling takes a lighter tune this year.

W/C: 1.4k

As of recent, Arthur had joined in with a lot of things around Small Heath, you had noticed. You weren’t sure why but you found yourself joining in on more of the community activities becasue of this.

Just last week there had been a small baking competition where the Church Community baked whatever they could and then once the winner was announced, the goods were shared between yourselves and whoever came in looking for something to eat. It was mostly children with ruffled hair and dirty faces but you were more than happy to serve them a slice of cake or a slice of bread slathered with one of the other competitors’ handmade butter -- something that you were far too busy to try out yourself.

You loved joining in, although initially it had been because there was a male interest in all of the activities. Arthur had started coming, drawing a few women in to join the community but they tended to stand off to one side, whispering hurriedly to each other and nodding their heads in Arthur’s direction; you had no idea why, though. Arthur held an aura that you were in awe of, and you were instantly drawn to him.

The first thing he signed up for was hymn singing, which typically was just women and women only, however, when the announcement was made that Arthur was to be joining, the air had stilled and it became apparent amongst the other women that this was against the organisers original wishes. It completely went past you though, you sat nodding along when the pastor had said that the added baritone could widen the range of songs that you were able to sing as a group.

That Monday afternoon, there had been a group of reluctant women huffing and making a fuss before Arthur had turned up. When he did, he walked to the empty chair in the row behind you and greeted the women either side, “Hello, ladies. Just doin’ my bit around here, I fancied trying out practicing my hymns and talking to the Man in Charge every so often.”

They had given him curt replies and moved on from the conversation as quickly as they could manage. Arthur had ignored it and looked ahead, joining in on the singing when required and offering his two pence where it was worth. Frankly, it was horrible singing and he needed to work on his timing a bit better but you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stick your nose in anything so soon on. Nevertheless, he turned up for two more sessions before you worked up the courage to talk to him at the end of one of your meetings, approaching him with your coat wrapped around your shoulders and the other women rushing to make their way out after tucking the chairs away behind a pillar.

“Arthur, right? I’m --”

“I know who you are,” he begins, face forming a small smile.

“Oh,” your hands fall to your sides and you let a smile adorn your face, “well, in that case, I just wanted to say that your addition to the group has been wonderful, really. It’s nice to have a change in the way we sound as a collective.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raise, “Not shocked by my presence?”

“A little, I mean, it has been just us ‘gals’ all this time but now we get to sing new songs since you’ve joined. Honestly,” your hands accentuate your words, adding flair to your speech, “it’s been a thrilling few weeks, wondering what we’re doing next.”

Arthur nodded, not sure what else to say, “I can see you’re getting ready to go somewhere so I’ll leave you to it, then,”

You smile and thank him for sparing a minute to talk to you and go to make your way out. Before you make it all the way to the door, you stop, hand resting on the handle and turn to face Arthur who was still hanging behind to talk to the pastor, “Arthur,” you call. He turns.

“I’m not sure if it’s your kind of thing but we’re baking next weekend for the people of Small Heath. It’s not always a big turn out and most of the others don’t like the kids that come in looking for something to eat and a warm place to stay but it’d be nice if you came,” you falter over your next words, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach as you didn’t know how he’d react, “I’m baking sourdough this time round; I’ll save you some, if you like?”

He nods, a tight smile on his face, “I’ll see what I can do.”

And that’s how it went for months. You and Arthur worked together more often, stood by each other in hymn practice and he even brought along his younger brother to some of the baking dues that the Church held. Over time you both got closer to one another, sharing laughs and the other women pointed at you and Arthur, muttering things under their breath that you couldn’t quite catch but you paid them no mind, preferring to feign ignorance so that you could enjoy yourself for longer.

It came around to Christmas time and the both of you made it known that you were going Caroling once the group was set up. On Mondays the songs transitioned into traditional Nativity-themed songs and songs that made everyone merrier this time of year.

Soon, time passed and you found yourself giddy with excitement over being able to spend the evening caroling with Arthur. You had discovered some form of comfort when he was around that allowed you to be yourself and to not hold back in front of the other women and also developed a way to blur out their gossiping in the background, not caring what they had to say.

“Alright tonight, ladies?” Arthur greeted them all before turning his attention to you, “And you, how are you?”

Immediately, you wrap your arms around his torso, a greeting he had gotten used to over the months as he returned the favour, wrapping his arms around yours and enjoying the warmth before you pulled away to talk to him properly.

You offer a bright smile, “I’m alright, you know me. How’re you? How’s Finn?”

Arthur smiles warmly, something in his eyes shimmering at the thought of you remembering to ask after Finn, “He’s upset.”

Your face falls, “What, why? What’s up? Who’ve I gotta scrap to keep that ball of sunshine happy?”

“He’s upset because his Aunt Pol’ wouldn’t let him come caroling with us,” Arthur chuckles as you let out a huff of air.

“I take back the scrapping; I don’t want to fight the face of authority, instead I’ll stick to singing hymns and cooking over baked bread occasionally.”

You turn and smile at Arthur, offering a toothy grin. He smiles back and watches as you move side to side and blow hot air onto your mitten clad hands.

“If your hands get cold, you can put them in my pockets.”

Flitting your eyes up to meet his gaze you mumble a ‘thanks’ and feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The person running the caroling announces that you’re going to leave to begin caroling and Arthur offers the crook of his arm and you gladly accept, enjoying the warmth his body offered.

For the rest of the evening you and Arthur sang side by side, some would say more enthusiastically than the rest of the carollers in the female led group. Arthur told jokes in between houses once you begin house calls and even elicited a laugh or two from some of the others but that didn’t mean you hadn’t laughed with him all night long.

When the evening was coming to an end you perked up, “Hey, Arthur, wanna go for a drink in the Garrison? On me for keeping me company all night.”

“You know,” he says bumping his shoulder with yours, “that it’s always on me when we go in there.”

You roll your eyes, “Own the place or something? I’ve never seen you physically pay Harry, y’know. I’m beginning to think you’re secretly really rich and doing your bit for the community in secret.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything, just pats your hand that remains on his arm and chuckles along with you, “if only,” he mutters to himself.

36 notes · View notes

cinnonym · 4 years ago

Text

and as i look around (your eyes outshine the town)

Written for Day 3 - Arts & Crafts of 12 Days of Supercorp @supercorpbb

Read on AO3

Being with Kara Danvers had forty-two upsides that Lena could think of in the span of a second. The curve of her smile that Lena could catch a glimpse of every time she turned her head. The warmth of her hand in Lena’s, everlasting as if they weren’t trudging around outside at temperatures well below zero. The excited undercurrent in her voice as she talked on and on about her Christmas preparations and gift choices and menu plans.

Being with Kara Danvers also had one single downside. She had very beautiful eyes.

Usually, that particular circumstance counted as an upside too, and in fact featured in at least three of the forty-two items on Lena’s list. Four, if you counted ‘looking at Lena as if she were the eighth wonder of the world,’ because it was technically something Kara did with her beautiful eyes.

But hidden in the depths of all that beauty and admiration slept a secret superpower. Or, two secret superpowers, one being heat vision, of course. The other, Lena liked to refer to as ‘chandeliers’.

As was customary with metaphors, this wasn’t the most literal description. Naturally, Kara’s eyes didn’t really light up with a couple dozens of candles every time she saw something that ignited her passion. But if you pictured Lena’s life as an empty ballroom, dull and grey and with corners so dark even she didn’t dare go there, the effect that Kara’s enthusiasm had on her came pretty close to actual chandeliers.

One spark and her limbs unfroze, unbent from the position the world had forced them into when Lena was still a child. Two sparks and she felt like dancing.

Three sparks and she found herself in her current position, trying – in vain, one might add – to stop the street artist from thrusting his paintings at her.

“This is a misunderstanding,” Lena said, helplessly accepting canvas after canvas because she’d learned the hard way that the man would just drop them on the ice-frozen ground if she didn’t. “I wanted one painting, one single – small – painting.”

“You pay big, you get big.” The man grinned at her, the 750 Dollar Lena had given him safely stored away in the inner pocket of his too big coat.

And Lena had been worried it wouldn’t suffice, that she would have to run to the bank first, to take out more cash. She’d seen way worse art go for way more.

“No listen,” she tried again, “you get to keep the money. It’s a fair price for a painting. And your pictures are good, you really have an eye for people. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just that I only meant to buy one painting, for my girlfriend over there, you see?”

Kara, traitor she was, stood a few steps away, giggling over Lena’s mishap as if it hadn’t been her fault entirely. As if it hadn’t been her chandelier eyes that had made Lena almost trip over herself in her hurry to buy that painting, not bothering to stop and google the appropriate price for street art in advance.

The guy – he was almost a boy really, pale and beardless in his chequered overcoat – followed Lena’s gaze and whistled.

“Lady like that, she deserves many paintings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lena said, exactly as sharp as she intended to, but the boy only shrugged.

“Looks like a muse,” he replied simply. “Makes me wanna do this.” And he grabbed his notepad and charcoal pen and started sketching.

Within a few seconds, he’d captured Kara’s likeness on the paper. The line of her nose, the curve of her lips, a single curl that had escaped from her hat, it all came alive under the artist’s hand, and as Lena stood and watched breathlessly, he filled in Kara’s eyes with the light of a couple dozens candles.

“Here,” he said, winking at her as he – to Lena’s absolute horror – folded the paper and slid it between two of the canvases in Lena’s arms. “Christmas gift for my best customer.”

And before Lena could protest or even get out a ‘thank you,’ he’d turned away and vanished in the Christmas shopping crowd.

“You two seemed chummy,” Kara welcomed her back, still shaking with silent laughter as Lena staggered under the weight of her purchases.

“I think you mispronounced ‘thank you,’ love,” Lena muttered, but her mortification had subsided. She was suddenly glad about the encounter with the artist, glad she’d probably paid his rent for the next two months, glad to have met him.

Glad for Kara’s chandelier eyes, which were blazing on full force as she leaned in to plant a soft kiss on Lena’s cheek.

“Thank you, love,” she whispered, only a hint teasingly, and Lena smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now, you better come up with a way to get rid of these paintings, because there’s no way we keep all of them.”

“Aww,” Kara fake-pouted, “Why not?”

“Because there are like, twenty-nine of them.”

“Did you count or is that a guess?”

Lena spared Kara the withering glance of someone who barely resisted saying ‘Do I look like I guess?’ Kara adjusted her glasses.

“Right.” There was a pause, in which both of them tried not to laugh.

It didn’t go very well.

“I know,” Kara finally said, after Lena’d complained that laughing made it harder to balance the towering canvases. “In the spirit of Christmas, we could gift them to random passersby.”

Lena suppressed an eye-roll. “Only a Super would propose this.”

“And only a Luthor would reject the idea,” Kara shot back, and that, of course, rendered Lena unable to object to the proposal.

“Fine,” she sighed, “Do your hero thing. As long as you keep me out of it.”

The next day, Lena woke to several hundred mentions and her name trending on Twitter. Snuggling back into Kara’s embrace, she reluctantly opened the National City News app, fully prepared to see yet another accusation of murder, treason, or at the very least tax evasion.

What she wasn’t prepared for – what nothing in the world could have prepared her for – was a picture of her in a moderately photoshopped Santa hat, splashed on the front page of CatCo’s gossip column. Santa Luthor read the unnecessary colourful headline, and underneath that, Local Millionaire Struck with Holiday Spirit.

Lena blinked. She felt vaguely like in one of these dreams, where you knew that something was about to happen but before you could find out, you woke up and felt disoriented all day.

Except it had already happened.

She scrolled through the article in a daze. Apparently, one of the people who had been gifted with a painting by Kara happened to be the young artist’s aunt. She’d recognised the signature, called up her nephew and, upon uncovering the whole story, decided to go to the press.

She paid for my Philip’s admission to art school, she said in the article, which at least cleared up the question where the money had gone. I’ve always known Miss Luthor’s heart was in the right spot, but this proves it once and for all.

Although the lie was blatant enough for even CatCo gossip column readers to stumble over, Lena couldn’t help smiling a little. If she had to be all over the media, she by much preferred it to be for something like this.

And when she came across an unknown DM in her notifications that simply said ‘thx for the promo & good luck with the muse,’ maybe she looked at the charcoal sketch framed over her bed and smiled a little extra.

#supercorp #sc fanfic #sc #supercorp fanfiction #supergirl #arts&crafts #christmas #christmas fic #my writing #mini fic

40 notes · View notes

word-scribbless · 5 years ago

Text

Rossi’s Niece Part 2

I’m kind of in love with writing this story and don’t think this will be the last part.

Masterlist

Part 1

x female reader

______________

The team had wrapped the local case that week, then caught a new one in Missouri barely 24 hours later. Meaning Spencer and Y/N had yet to have their first date. There was no shortage of texting and even a few calls between the two, however Spencer couldn’t help but fear he would lose her before he even had her.

Those fears were severely lessened as his phone buzzed on the jet ride home from the Missouri. He smiled as he saw Y/N’s Name light up the screen

Y/N Rossi: Hey there stranger, I hear you’re on your way home :).

Spencer immediately smiled widely. catching himself as to not tip off his team mates as he typed a response

Spencer <3: Are you keeping tabs on me ms Rossi?

Y/N Rossi: I might be! Y/N Rossi: You do owe me a date you know... I have to keep track of my debts. Can’t let you off the hook too easily.

The text caused him to smirk. The first smile may have been ignored by his team but at this point Derek wasn’t taking his eyes off of him and Rossi had a knowing smile on his face as he read his files. He types out an answer quickly.

Spencer <3: Good! I don’t wanna be let off the hook! How about tonight at 7?

Y/N Rossi: I’d love that, but aren’t you tired? You are just getting home!

Spencer <3: We solved the case yesterday afternoon, but the jet wasn’t ready until today. I got a full nights sleep before we boarded! Spencer<3: Plus I don’t like to leave my debts unpaid for too long ;)

Y/N Rossi: Perfect! Tonight it is then, I can’t wait! Safe travels. I’ll see you at 7.

Spencer<3: I cant wait either Y/N.

“Alright pretty boy who’s the girl?” Morgan asked, bursting Spencer’s happy bubble. “What?” He replied “Don’t act dumb 187” Morgan quipped. “I’m not! Just, how do you know it’s a girl?” He asked “Well I know for a fact you’re into girls... and you don’t smile that way unless your smitten so she’s got to be a fine piece-“ “WATCH YOURSELF” Rossi interrupted causing Morgan to look at him confused, and Aaron to join the conversation.

“Rossi what- OH MY GOD! It’s Y/N!” Morgan yelled. “Seriously a man can have no secrets!” He shrieked “Not around here!” Aaron joked. “Why do you wanna keep my niece a secret Reid?” Rossi jabbed, clearly kidding yet still causing Spencer to stutter.

“I- I don’t but we don’t need Morgan asking a million questions when we haven’t even gone on a real date yet. I don’t need this messed up before it starts!” He said looking down shyly.

“Ooooo HES got it bad!” Morgan laughed bumping Rossi’s shoulder. “He’s not alone, if I have to spend another dinner hearing about how ‘handsomely adorable’ he is I might cut my own ears off.” Rossi laughed

“She said that?” Spencer blushed. “Yeah. trust me kid, she won’t let this shmuck scare her away” he pointed to Morgan. “She’s just as smitten with you.” “The way she was looking at you that day at the school, I can tell you your feelings aren’t one sided.” Hotch added

This caused Reid to smile as he responded. “I still think she deserves to be treated with more respect than bragging about how beautiful she is to someone she barely knows, and her uncle and fake uncle for that matter.” “While I agree she deserves respect, calling her beautiful doesn’t bother me and I’m sure wouldn’t offend her, just don’t talk like this pig.” “I second that” Said Hotch. “Hey! I didn’t know she was a Rossi!” Derek feigned being offended.

“I get the whole being respectful thing, but come on kid give us something!” Derek joked.

“I really like her, we have a date tonight. That’s all I’m giving you!” Spencer conceded. “Way to go pretty boy!” Derek joked “Remember, daisies!” Rossi said looking back down. “I’m against gossiping but not against help! Any suggestions for dinner?” Spencer admitted. Rossi and Hotch’s eye brows peaked up in excitement. “So you’ll use our knowledge but not talk to us?” He joked “Hey I’m just trying to make this date as nice as possible. She deserves it.” Spencer smiled. “I can’t argue there” Rossi agreed as he begins to list things he knows y/n loves.

As the team headed back to the BAU from the jet Spencer finalized his plans. He underestimated how lucky he was to have Rossi’s knowledge of y/n to help him plan his and y/n’s date. He had learned that she loved Italian food (obviously) but usually only if it was homemade. There was one place in the city however that she loved. She didn’t believe in perfect Rossi told him, ‘so don’t plan perfect just plan for fun and make her laugh and she’ll be happy.’ Hotch also added that if he took her for ice cream she’d forgive just about anything!

Spencer headed home to get changed so get changed and pick y/n up. He called the restaurant ahead of time and put his name in. He put on nice pants, a button down and his favorite cardigan and headed out the door. It had been a nice day so he thought they could walk to the restaurant, it wasn’t too far from her apartment building. Plus walking is romantic right? He thought to himself.

While Spencer was overthinking his plans, Y/N was overthinking just about everything, she had changed about 5 times before her phone rang and showed her Uncle’s name.

“Hey Zio , what’s up.” She asked “Oh no! I can hear the stress patch through the phone!” Rossi said, referring to the bright red blotch that formed on her forehead when she was stressed. “Great, now I have that to worry about too!” She growled. “Tesoro, you could open your door in pjs and horror movie make up and that boy would still fall at your feet!” He chuckled. “But uncle Dave!” She started “Y/N Spencer can’t hear your name with out blushing! Anything you wear, or say, or do, he’s still going to be crazy about you.”He said, causing the tenseness in Y/N’s chest to dissipate. “Thank you Zio, that was actually really helpful! “He quizzed me and Aaron on Y/N trivia the whole plane ride home to make your date ‘perfect’.” He admired. “Really?” Y/n said blushing. “What did you say?” “First of all to drop the word perfect!” He joked. “That’s all he needed to know.” She laughed. “I gave him a few pointers, he looked like he was in a panic himself.” He said as he heard a knock on her door through the phone. “Alright Tesoro, have a great night! And I know I don’t have to tell you this but, be careful with his heart.” He said before hanging up. She could tell there was a story there, but she was guessing it was one she’d have to learn from Spencer him self in time.

She took one more deep breath and went to open the door. On the other side was Spencer, looking handsome as ever and holding a bouquet of daisies for her. ‘Maybe him being close to my uncles does have its perks’ she thought. “Hi.” He said shyly but smiling. “Hey there, come on in I’ll get my sweater!” She said “Great, these are for you!” He said handing her the flowers. “I may have gotten a few tips from your uncle, but I didn’t want to cheat too much so I also got you these.” He said holding out a box of chocolates from the cafe she loved down the block from.

“Oh man you have been talking to my uncle!” She gasped taking the flowers and box. “I have, but the chocolates were all me! No hints!” He smiled “Really? Well good guess! These are my favorites!” She kissed his cheek and told him she was ready. He double checked if she was okay with walking, she was, so off they went.

For a date that started out, dare I say, perfect it took a turn pretty fast. The conversation and company were perfect but the circumstances, not so much. Walking to the restaurant, Y/N tripped over the sidewalk, she caught herself, with Spencer’s help. However she twisted her ankle a bit. She swore she was fine, so used to being a clutz that she could power through. Once they got to the restaurant, they were told that they lost their reservations.

Y/N could sense that Spencer was feeling awful and assuming that the date was ruined. She put her hand on his arm and assured him everything was okay before telling him that they did take out and her favorite way to eat was a picnic. He smiled widely and placed their take out order. They sat in the waiting area and got to know each other a bit before taking their meals to a near by park y/n suggested.

As they sat down at a picnic table Spencer took Y/N’s hand. “Hey, I’m really sorry-“ he started “I’m not!” she stopped him. “-but this was supposed to be special and it got all messed up.” Spencer said. “Not the way I see it” she corrected him. “Spencer, I know you know that I don’t like perfect, I like fun.” She continued and he nodded. “Well so far, I’m having a lot of fun! I really like spending time with you, I don’t care where. Plus this is my favorite food in my favorite park with someone who I could easily see becoming one of my favorite people. So overall, I’d say this is pretty close to perfect.” She smiled.

Spencer loved the feeling he got from hearing her say those things about him. He was beginning to see that she was right, the date was amazing, even if it wasn’t perfect. They ate their meals and talked about their lives and families, jobs and dreams. Overall it was a wonderful date. After they finished eating Spencer stood up and took her hand in his, asking if she wanted to go for a walk with him. She smiled and nodded.

Half way through their walk it started pouring rain. Usually this would make Spencer panic again about ruining the date but before he could even think about it he heard Y/N’s laugh. He had to admit it was his new favorite sound. He looked over at her to see her giant beautiful smile and he couldn’t help but laugh as well. Not just any laugh, one of those laughs that’s starts and doesn’t seem like it will ever stop.

“You know what your supposed to do when it rains on a date?” Y/N asked between laughs. Spencer smiled and took her by surprise by saying “You dance in it?” while holding out his hand to her. She took it and he spun her into him “exactly” she smiled up at him.

They danced around the park in the pouring rain until they were both soaking wet. “I should get you home! I’d really love to take you on another date and I don’t want to have to wait because one of us catches a cold.” Spencer said causing Y/N to smile.

“I love dancing in the rain with you, walking in it should be fun too.” She smiled and linked her arm through him.

When they got to Y/N’s apartment building they stood just under the overhang out of the rain. “Well tonight surely didn’t go as planned, but I had a lot of fun with you Y/N.” Spencer said as he took her hand in his. “Me too Spence, and about that second date you mentioned earlier? I’d love to.” She smiled. “Saturday?” He asked hopefully and she nodded. “Perfect, good night Y/N.” Spencer said, kissing her cheek and then started to pull away. “Spence” Y/N Said as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into a kiss. At first he was shocked but that didn’t last long. He kissed her back with in seconds. They both pulled away smiling. “Sorry” She said sweetly. “I really didn’t want you to leave with out doing that.” They laughed. “I didn’t either.” He admitted. He kissed her again and then went on his way. He ended up walking to a café down the street and calling a cab. He enjoyed walking in the rain with her, but doing it alone wasn’t as fun.

The next day at work Rossi and Aaron walked up to Spencer’s desk with Morgan in toe. “So, how was the date? Y/N didn’t say much except that she’s happy and there’s a second one.” He said “And while that’s all I need to know I want more info!” “Well it definitely wasn’t perfect!” Spencer said with a gigantic smile. “That’s what I like to hear” Rossi said slapping him on the back. “I’m confused.” Morgan said causing the other men to laugh harder.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid series #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

364 notes · View notes

authora97writingupdates · 3 years ago

Text

Okay here's the first look at my new Harry Potter series. I'm trying to make it better than the last time.

Privet Drive was a very upscale neighborhood. Or rather, that’s how the homeowners association wanted it to be seen. They had houses of upper-middle-class proper British families. Copy and pasted houses with copy and pasted lawns, and even more copy and pasted families.

Fathers in these houses on Privet Drive often worked traditional 9-to-5 jobs. In the other cases, they worked respectable jobs. Even the retired men yet to move contributed to the community. You know, at the insistence of that community.

The mothers in each house were homebodies. They tended to their gardens. They managed their children into proper British citizens. There was the occasional wild mother that enjoyed a man’s work or disliked gardening. Or the odd father that enjoyed staying home with the children, taking a proper woman’s role in the house.

The community on Privet Drive talked about those houses. A lot. The gossip piled up alongside the letters in their mailboxes about keeping a brighter garden, or in more proper child management. All those lesser families moved out before long. Often they moved to a nearby neighborhood called DimKeep Lane.

DimKeep Lane had very little in terms of real respectable British families. As it was mostly housed by rejected Privet Drive residents, they were not copied and pasted folks. Many parents worked well enough jobs, some even very respectable even by Privet Drive. But the mother did the job, automatically making them questionable. Gardens were not a requirement, children even less so.

48 DimKeep Lane held a very unique family called the Lafayette’s. They had no garden. The family was...

That mother was...

The father Mr Lafayette was...

Oh, but who could forget those twin girls? Twins daughters that were just barely old enough for school. A pair of black-haired babbling girls who were just the cutest! Also most mysterious. At any time, the Lafayette girls were found running and playing outside.

The younger sister, Darcy, was the more bold twin. Always with dirt scrapes on her knees or elbows. Lucky for their mother that Darcy hated wearing dresses, or she would always be washing out the grass stains. Darcy often wore basic shirts and jean shorts with tiny trainers in only the brightest shades. The girl played rough with the boys, unafraid of getting hurt or of hurting others.

That’s where her elder sister came into play. Morgan Lafayette usually played with or around her sister. Morgan looked very similar- their only true outer difference being eye color and hairstyles. Morgan’s amber eyes versus Darcy’s deep indigo, Morgan’s twisted black curls and waves versus Darcy’s iron straightness. Morgan tended to dress in shirts and shorts too, occasionally deciding to wear a darker scheme.

Parents went to that child, telling her about Darcy’s antics, or about fun local parties for the family to bring food. Some parents questioned why they weren’t looking for Mr or Mrs. Lafayette before immediately forgetting that question. How confounding! Morgan pulled Darcy back from all fights, worked out peace, then threw Darcy back. Many parents were impressed at the maturity!

Morgan still got into fights. They were few and far between. Usually involved with children taller than Morgan being- to put it bluntly- assholes. Ah, to be a child again! The parents of DimKeep Lane laughed.

The girls were finally attending school. Specifically St. Grogory’s Primary School for Year 1.

The teachers were happy to accept them. Rather, they barely noticed two more children but they were happy to meet the Lafayette Twins.

Morgan and Darcy went to their first day of school with little fanfare. To be clear, fanfare happened, just not to them. Other children cried and screamed, their parents cried too. None of them wished to part ways with their parents. Some kids cried because school sounded boring.

Dudley Dursley, for example. A fat whale of a child even at age 5. He screamed and yelled about the stupid school. They wouldn’t let him watch the telly or eat candy. Petunia Dursley tried to keep his spirits up with promises of toys and his friends being there, but nothing calmed her little Diddykins down.

Her second child stayed silent just behind her. If you ever called this child her’s, Petunia’s face would shrivel like she’d eaten a bad lemon. This child was not hers nor ever would be. Little better than a freak, her nephew knew his place waiting silently behind proper respectable people.

Said boy was currently 1/10 his cousin’s size, and that’s being generous to his cousin. Clothes hung off his skin, ones that clearly had never been worn by Dudley but belonged in a rubbish bin. The glasses on his head- round and black- were already being held together by tape. His black hair was wilder than the sobbing Dudley, barely covering a giant lightning bolt-shaped scar on his head.

Harry watched the other children, curious. His aunt and uncle told him his parents died, too drunk and worthless to care for him. As he saw other children crying and their parents hugging them, Harry wondered if his parents might have done the same.

Naturally, with so little to do, Harry looked over at the collection of toys out for a distraction. He saw the two children already parted from their parents. Only a pair of twins. One playing happily with big thick building blocks, one reading a book from the shelf.

He walked over to them. Morgan glanced at him from over her book. Darcy kept playing with her blocks. Harry sat beside Morgan, peeking at her book.

“It’s about a place that has raining food.” Morgan explained. Harry tilted his head. “My book. It’s about that.”

“How?” Harry asked.

Morgan hummed, thoughtful.

“Magic.” Darcy pushed another block in place, making something like a castle.

“Or maybe science.” Morgan replied.

“Definitely magic.” Darcy argued. “I wanna have magic food!”

“No way.” Morgan dismissed. “Magic can’t make something out of nothing.”

“Then it uses water! I don’t know.” Darcy huffed. She grabbed another block.

“What do you think?” Morgan asked the new playmate.

Harry stared.

Morgan stared back. Darcy snickered. “About my book.”

“You-” Harry shifted on his spot. “You’re askin’ me?”

“Yeah. What do you think?” Morgan asked again.

Nobody ever asked Harry a question before. Usually, Harry asked the questions. The Dursley’s always yelled at him to shut up. Aunt Petunia loved to tell him to not ask questions. Nobody wanted Harry to talk more. Harry loved the feeling.

“...magic.” Harry answered. He pointed at the odd rain. “That’s spaghetti.”

“It is.” Morgan nodded. “I like spaghetti. Do you?”

“I like bowtie noodles.” Darcy cheered.

Harry shifted again.

“It’s okay to not like spaghetti. I don’t like meatballs.” Morgan assured Harry. “Darcy hates the curly kind.”

“The curly colorful kind!” Darcy corrected. “It’s different colors but not flavors! That’s stupid.”

“I like spaghetti.” Harry pointed at the picture. “Yummy.”

Morgan and Darcy smiled.

The other children stopped crying as they talked. Parents successfully distracted them with the promise of toys or friendship, or even getting one of the teachers to help distract the kindergartener. One child held out, screaming about useless school and wanting to go home.

Petunia bribed him with more sweets- something the teachers discouraged. Still, the candy got Dudley to focus on something else. He enjoyed the treat as Petunia ran off, crying herself. Oh to leave behind her precious baby!

The candy soon vanished. Dudley looked around the play area for something. He saw his best friend. He also saw his favorite person to antagonize and a bunch of toys that would suit his idea.

Morgan turned a page in her book.

“You can read?” Harry asked.

Morgan nodded. Darcy snickered again.

“Morgan reads all the time.” Darcy explained. She moved her block castle to the side, letting her add extensions. “Like a nerd.”

“What’s a nerd?” Harry asked. “Is it like a freak?” He hadn’t understood the word at all. He just knew the tone Darcy used- a disgust like when the Dursleys called him a freak.

Morgan tensed. “I’m not a freak. Reading doesn’t make me a freak, it just makes me smart. Darcy’s mad I don’t wanna play.”

“It’s why we’re here.” Darcy replied.

Morgan glared at her sister. Darcy went back to the blocks.

“No freak?” Harry asked again.

Morgan shook her head. “Do you like to read?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know how.”

“That’s okay.” Morgan started using her finger to follow the words. “The pictures work fine.”

Harry, for one of the first times since coming to Privet Drive, smiled.

Dudley stormed up. Piers Polkiss at his side, sneering at the two ungirly girls and the pathetic orphan boy.

“Do you mind?” Darcy asked. “We’re busy here.”

Dudley kicked the blocks down. Harry watched, frowning at another toy lost to his cousin. Morgan and Darcy stood up, glaring at the fat boy.

“Stupid!” Dudley yelled. “That’s a boy’s toy! Not one for stupid girls!”

Darcy leaned towards her sister. Harry couldn’t hear what was asked, only seeing Morgan shake her head. Darcy rolled her eyes, glaring harder.

“Okay.” Morgan sat back down. She picked up the book, showing it to Harry. “We had spaghetti on Saturday. It had long noodles and red sauce.”

On Saturday, Harry ate old crusty bread that Dudley threw away. Literally. Dudley had thrown it against the wall. Harry ate it, then cleaned up the smudge on the wall.

Darcy sat down, leaning against her sister.

Dudley got annoyed that the other children ignored him. “Hey! Gimme blocks!” He yanked a block up, throwing it at Darcy’s head.

Morgan caught it. She stared at the fat boy and his friend. Somehow, Dudley saw something that Harry did not. Something that made Dudley want to get as far away from Morgan as possible. A latent survival instinct, if you want.

Instead, Dudley grabbed another block to throw at Morgan’s head.

See, as a child, Dudley expected that Morgan would be unable to catch it. She already held another block and a book. Her arms were full. She surely could not take another item.

Morgan dropped the first block. She caught the second. All before anything touched her face.

Darcy snickered, still on Morgan’s shoulder.

Harry watched, awestruck.

Dudley went for a third block. Piers grabbed two, ready to throw at all the black-haired kids. They threw with a force that all children considered lethal.

Morgan raised the book, using its hardcover as a shield for herself and Harry. Darcy ducked behind her sister, two blocks in her hands.

Harry could hear Darcy whispering now.

“Can I do it now?” Darcy hissed.

“No.” Morgan replied another wave of blocks hit the book. “But save it for later.”

Darcy saluted.

Dudley reached over. He snatched the book out of Morgan’s hands. The book pages tore under Dudley’s grip. Dudley threw the book on the ground. For good measure, he stomped on it.

The twins stared. Harry frowned.

Darcy reached forward. She held Morgan’s shoulder, holding the girl back.

Dudley threw another block.

Harry moved, blocking the twins’ body with his own. The block hit him. Harry was horrifically used to it.

By then, the teachers finally noticed the two boys throwing blocks at defenseless children. They rushed to the aid of the smaller ones. Lucky for them, classes need to start anyway.

But that little brave act...To them, it was enough. It may not be clobbering a troll…actually yeah it kinda was- point is, it made a strong friendship between the three children.

#oc morgan spencer #oc darcy anderson #harry potter fanfiction #first chapter preview

2 notes · View notes

lovelylunarwriting · 5 years ago

Text

Yangyang Prince!AU

Yangyang’s known around the kingdom as less of a prince and more of “the king and queen’s child”

He’s just not the princely type??? He 10/10 looks like a prince and -33/10 acts like one

While some royalty just have that "aura” about them,,,, Yangyang does not

But that’s not a bad thing! He’s incredibly approachable as a person

Not a soul would dare to address him as anything but “Prince”, though, for fear of him overhearing and being like “excuse me what the fuck did you call me”

While the country itself adores the prince and his natural personality, the king and queen take issue with his “lack of royal precedent” and hold him to a ridiculously high standard.

He doesn’t seem to let this dampen his spirit, though. Whenever local newspapers ask him about it, he always says “I’m firstborn and in line to the throne. There’s not much they can do about it regardless if I keep filling the courtyard fountains with soap so that they bubble. Who doesn’t like bubbles?”

Deep down though it takes more of a toll on him. In his eyes, it’s like his parents are saying he isn’t good enough to be king one day.

The reality is that they’re just worried that being in charge of the nation will stress him out like it has them, and they want to prepare him the best they can.

To prepare him for his eventual role, they send Yangyang into the nearby villages to meet with traders from other nations who want to open up shop in the many marketplaces.

Yangyang’s nation is known for their vast and varying markets because they’ll let just about anyone open a business as long as a member of the royal family approves it.

They go about doing this in two ways:

One, they can request an audience with the king and queen and they’ll write up a contract. The king is pretty much there for show, the queen is really the one who’s built this trade empire.

Or, two, if the person is in a rush they can schedule to meet with Prince Yangyang in town and plead their case to him. If he thinks it’s an extenuating circumstance, they essentially get a “Prince Fast-Pass” and receive an immediate audience with the king and queen.

For example, he had one woman who was a refugee from a war-torn nation across the continent and she came to their country to open up a shop to provide for her and her four kids. Yangyang was like “that sucks, I’m sorry. Do you wanna talk to my mom about it?” and personally escorted her to the palace.

You have been in this market for a h o t minute though. You got your audience with the king and queen when you were like,,,, twelve?? And you’ve been selling your family’s farms produce ever since.

One of your parents would’ve gone to the audience but there was a Very Serious Ladybug Problem going on with the tomatoes so they sent you instead (the queen was surprised but you presented a fair argument for the business,,,, she had no reason to say no)

So you set up your market every week, Monday through Friday. The weekends are for helping around at home (and sleeping off the work week, of course)

This season’s harvest hasn’t been nearly as plentiful as the previous. It’s not that there’s a shortage necessarily, just that the last season’s harvest was abnormally abundant.

Which of course means you’ll have to sell pretty much all of it to get a similar profit to last year while keeping the same standard prices (raising the prices wouldn’t be fair to your loyal customers)

“Guess there goes my Saturdays, then…”, you mumble to yourself, deciding to open up the extra day in order to sell every single tomato, carrot, and head of lettuce even if it kills you.

The first Saturday of the season comes and goes with no trouble, and so does the next.

But the third week. That’s when you notice him.

The pickpocket in the bright yellow shoes.

He weaves his way through the crowd with elegance and ease, reaching out here and there, plucking items from stalls, pockets, and displays, slowly putting them in his pockets.

You find yourself entranced, staring at him slip through stall after stall.

That is until he steps up to yours.

He glances up, making eye contact with you, and flinches.

Apparently your glare was most apparent than you’d intended.

You don’t say anything though and neither does he. He just smirks at you and makes his way to the next stall.

Your eyes follow him and you see him swipe a pair of earrings off the man’s table to your left.

You might’ve said something but:

1.) That particular jeweler is a creep to the women in town so he deserves to be robbed in your opinion, and

2.) If you snitch on some thief, that only makes you a target to whoever the thief is associated with. You don’t know if he’s got some thuggish friends and you’re not looking for a fight.

That is unless he decides to try and steal from you. Then he better be as good as fighting as he is pickpocketing.

After this initial encounter, you honestly forget about him.

That is until a few months later, when you spot a flash of bright yellow in the massive crowd on another Saturday morning rush.

You fumble to make change for the person buying three dozen heads of lettuce, trying to find his distinctly soft face in the sea of people.

At first you think you’ve lost him, until the lady buying out all your lettuce moves one of her bags and you see him snatch an apple from the barrel in front of your table.

Blinding hot rage sparks its way down your neck and shoulders, and without even thinking you shove the change into the woman’s hands and slide over the table.

The crook looks behind him just in time for you to grab him by the collar and drag him into the nearest alley.

The shock in his eyes is clear and although he tries to fight back, he can’t break your hold.

You shove him up against the brick wall of the alley and ask him one very important question.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He kind of just makes a weird gurgling sound though because your knuckles are pressing into his trachea.

You loosen your grip a little and look at him expectantly.

“I’m the Prince-”, he starts, but you cut him off because listen you might not be rich but you’re not stupid.

“Bullshit. And you can keep that apple, but you better hope I never catch you stealing from me again”, you say, throwing him by the front of his shirt even further into the alley and storming back to your booth.

Once you gather your bearings, you think about the encounter.

You can’t pinpoint what it is that pisses you off so much about this guy in particular. There’s always been thieves in the market, it’s practically part of the system at this point.

But there’s always been one thing about the thieves that made you understand in a way, why they steal.

They almost always steal food and it’s because they need it. For themselves and probably their families. And you can’t find it in yourself to fault them for that.

But this bright-shoed bandit? He looks like he’s never missed a meal in his life. He’s got full cheeks, tan skin, toned muscles, and is missing that look of sheer desperation that’s in the eyes of all the thieves you’ve encountered thus far.

The only thing in this boy’s eyes is arrogance. And something else you can’t quite identify yet.

Sunday passes and you try to relax, but remembering that encounter just irks you.

Mom: “Y/N,,,, what are you doing”

You: “I’M GONNA GO PLOW THE FIELDS”

Mom: “Why would you do that by hand?? We have an ox for that??”

You: “Because I’m pissED oFF okaY”

It’s not until Monday that you hear the townspeople gossip like crazy about something that happened at the Sunday Market.

Even the vendors are talking about it instead of the usual small talk with customers.

“Did you hear? The prince rode into the marketplace on horseback yesterday”

“Hear? I was there! He made such a big scene!”

“Apparently he was looking for someone but he didn’t even know their name”

“Typical Prince Yangyang- he’s always up to something crazy. He’s such a lovely sight though~”

This goes on for hours and towards the end of the day you swear if you hear one more thing about “PriNcE YaNgyaNg anD hiS goRgEous faCe” or “PrinCe YanGyaNg aNd hiS sTeaMy mUScleS”, you might actually just close up shop and leave early.

At first it was interesting, but everyone’s repeating the same thing for h o u r s

Except for the man you’re currently selling tomatoes to.

“Yeah it wasn’t hard tah miss him with those bright ass shoes ah his”

Your whole body jolts and you drop the change the man just set in your hand.

Apologizing, you scramble to pick it all up and drop the coins on the table.

“What do you mean ‘bright ass shoes’, sir?”, you ask, your demeanor becoming physically tense.

“You know the kid loves collecting those new kinds ah shoes, right? ‘Sneakers’ or whaddeva ya call em? They’re all the rage in the next kingdom ovah, he musta gotten em imported from there-”, the man drones on and on, whilst you continue to panic.

“Sir please, what color were they?”

“Oh they were yellow like you wouldn’t believe! Brighter than the sun itself, and- hey! Where are you going?”

You hand the man his bag of tomatoes, grab what little produce is left and close down shop. If the prince comes back again today he could have you thrown in jail for treason for the way you spoke to him.

Everything's in the horse-drawn cart and you’re pretty much ready to go until you remember you left the change on the table.

Cursing to yourself, you abandon the cart for a brief moment and rush back to grab the money, but right as you reach for it, someone grabs your wrist.

Without thinking, you twist their arm around and pin them face first into the table.

Some of the coins fall off from the sudden impact and as your eyes follow them down…. you notice the man’s yellow shoes.

You quickly release him,,,, this thief,,,, the prince

As he slowly turns around, you contemplate whether you should request execution by hanging or guillotine….

But when he sees that it’s you, he just starts laughing.

Not like a maniacal “aha I’ve got you noW peasaNT” kind of laugh like you’d expect though. A genuine laugh from this boy.

From this p r i n c e

All instincts are telling you to bolt and just move to a different marketplace but,,,, you wanna know what this guy’s deal is.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you talk to him.

“Your Royal Highness”, you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Ah, so you believe me now? What’s changed?”, he asks and his voice sounds like honey. For some reason you’d expected him to be harsher.

“Your prance around town yesterday has been all anyone’s talking about today, Prince of Thieves”, you explain with disinterest dripping from your mouth.

“Prince of Thieves? I am prince of this nation, I’ll have you know”, he says and there’s that look in his eyes again that you can’t quite pin down.

“Then act like it”, you say with a certain degree of malice, and storm off to your horse and cart, leaving the money behind. It’s not worth it to grab it.

His eyes widen and he just stands there for a moment before chasing after you.

“Just- wait a minute!”, he shouts, running up behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You grab his wrist, pulling him forward onto your back, and then flip him over onto the ground.

Once he’s down, you pin him down with your hands on his wrists and a knee on either side of his hips.

“I don’t care that you’re the prince. Your title means nothing to me. I care that you’re a thief. You steal from people who actually need money to live, and why? For the thrill of it? Grow up. If you want people to call you Prince then you better start acting like one”, you lay into him, letting all your frustration with him out at once.

You expect him to get angry with you. Maybe even yell. But he just looks,,,, sad. A little defeated, if anything.

“That’s not why I came here”

“You’re right, let me get off you so you can go pickpocket my customers”, you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off your pant legs.

“No, I came here looking for you. That’s why I came here yesterday, too”, he says, getting up and stepping between you and your horse. “Please, I need your help”

You take a deep breath in and out.

“My help with what exactly?”

“You fight like no one I’ve ever seen before. I need you to teach me”, he explains.

“Isn’t that what you have the knights for?”, you ask.

“They go easy on me. They’re worried if they hurt me while practicing, they’ll be fired by my mom”

“I don’t see why they’re concerned about hitting you in the face. It’s practically all I can think about right now”, you say nonchalantly.

“Wow okay- I could’ve gone without knowing that. But what do you say? Will you teach me? You’ve already showed me like three moves, just,,,, not on purpose I guess”

And for some reason,,,,, maybe because you’re lowkey worried he’ll actually have you hanged,,,,, you say yes.

You tell him it’ll have to be on Sundays and that he’ll have to come down to the family farm because “there’s no way in hell I’ll fight you that close to the queen’s wrath”

When you meet with him that Sunday though, he’s actually,,, quite charming??? And very polite to your parents, who were extremely surprised to see the prince on their front step (you might’ve forgotten to tell them about it)

This begins a routine of Prince Yangyang dragging you out of bed at dawn to spar with him in the barn out back behind your house.

The first few times he’d leave in the afternoon saying he “didn’t want to take up too much of your time”

But every time he leaves,,,, you find yourself missing his company.

Listen, he was an ass at first and he’s still an ass but it’s growing on you.

So one day, you ask him if he’d want to stay for dinner. And to your own shock, he immediately agrees.

He banters back and forth with you, makes jokes with your dad, and flatters your mom.

He’s got all of you around his finger and he’s not even trying to. He’s just being himself.

Now every Sunday he still wakes you up at dawn, much to your dismay, but he stays the whole day instead.

You spend the day together sparring, trying to knock each other into the pond, having lighthearted conversations, and getting the produce ready to go to market the next day.

To you, he stopped feeling like a prince a while ago honestly he never felt like a prince to start with but still

He’s your friend Yangyang that you throw into hay bales while teaching him self defense

One of those nights, the two of you are laying on the roof of the barn looking at the stars, when he says that he’d better head back to the castle.

“Can I ask you a question first?”, you ask, sitting up to face him.

“You technically just did”

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean”

“Hit me with it”, he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back towards the speckled sky.

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why do you steal from the marketplace?”, you finally ask, after silently wondering for months at this point.

“I don’t anymore”, he answers somewhat defensively, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Okay, then why did you?”

“...”

“...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want….”, you say somewhat resigned.

Over the past month or so, things between the two of you has felt,,,, different.

You’ve been closer than ever, and talk to each other like you’ve known each other for years.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for him.

But it feels like he’s got a barrier built up between him and the world.

Everything fiber of your being aches to shatter it. For him to feel like he can trust you, even if he can’t trust anyone else.To be special to him the way he’s special to you.

“I needed to do something to break out”, he says after some silence.

“Break out of what?”, you ask, trying to be gentle.

“Out of the box my parents are desperately trying to cram me into. I know they want what’s best for me and the country but,,,, it’s just so much pressure. I needed to do something else- anything else, even if it was stupid”

You scoot over to him and he sits up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself closer to him.

At first he just sits there, stunned, but then tightly returns the embrace and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stay like that for who knows how long, with him getting everything off his chest and you quietly listening and running your fingers through his hair.

From that night onward, the two of you are practically inseparable.

Neither of you have said that you’re an item,,, and for a while you were like “am I making this shit up or does he like me”.

But one day, he’s sitting behind your booth in the marketplace (like he usually is. You’d think as a prince he’d have more to do,,,), eating all of your apples, when he taps you on the shoulder.

“I’m in the middle of a sale”, you snap, and turn back around to the customer.

When you finish, you turn around and he hands you an apple that is just,,, seeping with juice.

“Yangyang,,, w h y”

“Flip it over!”

So you do, and he’s carved “for my beautiful s/o~” into the side of the apple.

You can’t help but smile at his literally sweet gesture.

But you also can’t help but make direct eye contact with him and bite straight into the carved part of the apple.

The look of horror on his face made your day.

He’s got a habit of making your day everyday, though.

302 notes · View notes

lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years ago

Text

The Toss of a Coin

Part 2: Bridges and Bad Friends

Part 1

Pairing: male Death x female Reader

Warnings: language, bullying, violence, near death experience

A/N: Reader’s nickname is Birdie, not sure if I’ll keep it for future chapters.

The Summer sun is hot, beating down on your back and bare shoulders, the humidity slogging you down on your walk home, not that you can find a reason to rush. No one was there to make sure you made it back alright anyway.

It was late April of your Senior year and your messenger bag was light with the coming end of your high school career, the dusty side of the country road scuffing beneath your shoes barely keeping your brain occupied. So you tried to recall the sight of the glowing bird. You would be 18 in a couple months and then you could get it forever etched onto your skin so it would never fade from your memory.

The sharp ping of metal bouncing against metal brought you out of your daydream and you realized you had reached the bridge. Glancing around your feet for what you had kicked, you spot a small gleam of silver and crouch down to study it.

A coin, maybe the size of a silver dollar sat before you, smeared with dust and grime but oddly no rust. All it would need was a decent wash to be as good as new. Grabbing it up to examine it closer you see it's not like any currency you've seen before. It looks modern made but the reliefs on it seem old. Like seeing a picture of an ancient artifact in your textbook.

One side boasted an image of a three-headed dog, though the details were vague, simple. Flipping it over you found a two-pronged fork with a snake wrapping itself around the handle, winding upwards.

There were no words or numbers on either side, just the images. You flipped it back and forth, the sun catching and bouncing off the spots not hidden under dirt. It was warm from sitting out in the sun and the longer you held it, the more engrossed you became in the feel of it. Almost hypnotizing you.

The sound of your name being called brought you out of it, back to the heat making your head feel light and your legs heavy. Curling your fingers around the odd little find, you stand up, glancing around until you spot where the voice had come from.

Your town was what most would consider a quintessential 'small town' where everyone pretty much knew everyone and gossip got around as quick as the local stray dog chasing someones unfortunate chickens.

And most small towns also had a group of trouble makers, the kids who swore they'd get out one day and make it big, the ones who didn't have much to do but found plenty of trouble none-the-less.

Sam, the girl the others in the group seemed to revolve around, was the one who had called out to you, sitting with a few others down at the riverside below the bridge. The rusted out shell of a car that had been there for as long as you had been alive serving as a perfect spot to gather.

You had never been on Sam's bad side, always looking the other way when she and her friends lit up under the bleachers, ignoring it when they picked on some poor soul who more than likely had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. All to save your own skin. It had worked so far.

But the way she was grinning up at you from the riverbank, half spent cigarette tucked between her slim fingers, told you there wasn't going to be a way to around this. Whatever it was.

"Hi Sam" you called down hesitantly, trying to keep from leaning on the hot metal guardrail of the bridge.

"Hey Birdie! Come on down here, I wanna talk to ya'!" her tone was cheerful and deceptive and the nickname just made it worse. You regretted for the millionth time ever telling anyone about your glowing bird.

"I can't really, I mean I would but-it's just that umm" no excuse would satisfy this crowd. They all knew you didn't have anyone waiting at home for you.

"Aww, c'mon Birdie! It's hot as shit out and we were gonna go swimming before it rains! You know how nasty the river gets when it fills up" she takes one last pull of her cigarette before snuffing it out against the side of the car, eyes never leaving yours.

You could just say no, walk away without explanation and hope that none of them would take personal offense. That tomorrow at school they wouldn't corner you like you'd seen them do to so many others. Wishful thinking and all that.

By now you're gripping the coin so tight in your hand that it begins to dig into your palm. Looking up at the sky, you see clouds not to far off that were more than ready to burst with rain. It wouldn't be that long, even Sam knew not to mess around in a flooding river.

"Okay" you stuff the coin into the back pocket of your shorts and make your way down the sloping path to the river.

The air is stagnant with cigarette smoke when you finally push your way through the thick foliage and it clings to Sam's hair when she wraps an arm around you as soon as you appear.

"So, Birdie, I've been wanting to show you something" she says, leading you toward the rest of the group by the car.

There are five all together. Sam, Zach and Carter, twin boys that remind you of giant redwoods when they stood side-by-side, then Lily-Ann and Maya.

"I thought you guys were going swimming?" you keep the question light, hoping not to stir up anything.

"We are, but first, I wanted to show something, kind of like a graduation present, because you never ratted us out or anything" Sam tugs you in closer, almost like a hug if her nails weren't digging into your arm.

"That's really not- I just didn't want to get you guys in trouble. You never hurt anyone, you were just messing around" your stomach clenches into a ball of anxious nerves, yelling at you to run, hide, anything.

Lying just makes it even worse because you've seen them get in fights, heard Lily-Ann brag about using her BB gun on that stray dog.

What's worse is the look Sam gives you. She isn't smiling anymore as she keeps a tight hold on you and walks straight toward the water.

"Yeah, but I thought I'd at least show you what I think of you for doing that. What I think of spineless little birds."

Like with most dangerous situations, you've waited until it's too late to work up the courage and run. When you push out of Sam's grip, her nails scrap three red lines into your skin but you ignore the sting and slam right into the trunk of one of the twins. No one could ever really tell Zach and Carter apart, and they didn't really care.

So whoever it is, they grab you by the shoulders and push you backwards hard enough that you fall ass first onto the hard riverbank, the wind leaving your lungs in a painful wheeze.

"I think Birdie here needs to learn how to stand up for herself, so lets help her!" Sam sneers down at you before reaching out to yank on the strap of your messenger bag, tugging you up before suddenly hands are dragging you back.

"Sam please, I'm sorry, I just didn't want-"

"Didn't what Birdie? Didn't wanna get your hands dirty? Christ you are a spineless little shit!" she just laughs mirthlessly and rips your messenger bag off, tossing it into the water.

There are tears slowly leaking out and down your face by now. You're angry but you know people like Sam feed off anger. Anything you might say won't change her mind. So you tug your arms free, hearing the sharp rip of your shirt in the process, before a fist connects with your nose. It snaps your head back violently and sends you into a daze.

"What the hell Sam?! I thought we were just gonna scare her?" one of the girls says, more annoyed than concerned.

"We are! Zach, put her in" Sam orders.

With a head full of quicksand and warm, copper tasting blood rolling over your lips, you focus on their voices. Not the tugging on your arms as one of the twins pulls you into the water and around so you can glance at the open trunk.

He tosses you in like you weigh nothing, frowning down at you with one hand on the hatch. Behind him the sky is darker, it'll rain soon. And then he slams the trunk closed hard enough to shake the whole back end of the car.

It's dark but there are holes where the weather had worn through and light seeps in. Inside here it's even hotter, the heat cloying and suffocating. You can hear them outside yelling at you, about you, and even shaking the car, pounding on the sides.

That lasts for a while, long enough for your nose to stop bleeding and your shirt to be soaked with more sweat than water. You remain silent the entire time, waiting it out. They would let you out before the rain.

They had to, the river would rise well above the trunk.

When fat drops of rain begin to hit the metal above you, their voices fade, yelling out heartless 'goodbyes' and 'good luck getting outs.'

You're almost dumbfounded at the silence, nothing but the staccato of the ever increasing rain to keep you company. Now you begin to yell.

"Sam! Let me out! Let me out please, okay I get it! Just let me out!"

Nothing. They left you. They fucking left you.

"Sam! Maya! Lily-Ann! Saaaaaam!"

Pounding on the metal above you does nothing for the fear crawling up your sore throat. You keep at it until the first trickles of water begin to fill the trunk, until your arms ache and you're sobbing out curses.

You can count the beats of your heart it's so loud. The water is cold and fast, filling up the small space until not even the holes in the metal can provide you air.

The first gulp of water you take in relieves the burn for air but fills you like cement, stopping up your throat and lungs. You think you manage to rip off a few nails clawing at the metal tomb around you and it's the last shred of pain you feel.

The last thing you see, your vision going dark, is the slight gleam of silver shaped like a coin.

Then you open your eyes to see the road you walk home every day, bridge stretched out in front of you, the same muggy heat pressing down on you.

Dropping to your knees in the dirt, you clutch your throat and gasp in the sweetest breath of air you've ever tasted. Kneeling there in the dirt, gaping like a fish, you feel the messenger bag at your hip, no pain in your nose or blood on your face.

Not a single drop of water on you, not even tears.

And when the tunnel vision of panic slowly recedes, you see a familiar round shape on the ground in front of you.

The coin, shiny and silver with not so much as a speck of dirt on it, stares back up at you.

Desperately you search all the pockets on your shorts, coming up empty. But you knew you put that coin in your back pocket. You also knew that you'd been locked in a trunk and left to drown.

You had drowned.

"Hey Birdie! You hear me up there? I wanna talk to you!"

Sam's voice is like ice in your veins. It had felt so real, the scratches on your arm, the blood and the burn of drowning. You make no move to stand up, hoping maybe she'll give up. Maybe you're finally going nuts in this tiny town.

Either way, you weren't going down there.

"I know you're up there Birdie! I saw you, just come down and swim with us before it rains! You know how nasty the river gets when it fills up!"

Nope. No way. You decide you can run the rest of the way home. You snatch the coin out of the dirt, keeping it tucked in your fist, as you lurch forward into a flat out run, hoping they won't bother with chasing after you. That you weren't worth it.

You don't stop until there's a stitch in your side and even then you only slow to a jog, glancing over your shoulder every other breath. It's as your look back for the fifth time that you see a truck rumbling it's way along down the road. It's not one you recognize, an older model, beat up and pale white with a surprisingly quiet engine. By now you've turned around to openly stare, panting, watching the truck approach, veering away from the shoulder you stand on.

The license plate reads HDS-180. Definitely no one you knew.

"You alright?"

The voice startles you, coming from the open window of the truck now stopped beside you. It seems familiar but the face of the man behind the wheel is foreign to you. He seems a few years older than you, not that you were ever a good judge of age, with deep brown eyes that watch you carefully from underneath the brim of a black, worn out ball cap.

There's a frown curving his lips and you realize it's probably because you haven't answered him.

"I'm okay, thanks" even you don't sound convincing to your own ears but you don't move an inch.

"Are you sure?" his frown deepens, tilting his head in concern.

"Uh, yeah, well. . . it's kind of been a weird day but" you can't think of how to finish that sentence. You just want to forget what happened (or didn't happen) at the bridge.

"You need to call someone? To come get you?" he asks earnestly, putting the truck in park even as you shake your head.

"No, my mom's at work" probably not the best thing to tell a stranger.

"I saw those kids back at the bridge" he tells you seriously, nodding over his shoulder "they wouldn't happen to be the reason you were running like the Devil was at your heels would they?"

"Maybe" you sigh, too tired at this point.

"You want a ride home?"

"Depends, do you plan on killing me?" it shouldn't come out sounding like a joke but it does.

Your mom would be so disappointed in you. But the coin seems to vibrate in your hand as you reach out to grab the passenger side door handle.

"It's not on my schedule, promise."

#final destination #Death #death as a character #is death the ultimate slasher?#slasher x reader #slashers #slasher community #horror #the toss of a coin #not my pics #just put the collage together #duck did it

33 notes · View notes