#i recently caught up on stranger things and i honestly regret not doing that before
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Everyone is like "gay Eddie" this, "bi Eddie" that, but have you considered of pan Eddie, maybe?
#stranger things#eddie munson#pansexual#eddissy#hellcheer#steddie#steddissy#eddie munson headcanon#stranger things headcanon#sexuality headcanon#headcanon#pansexual eddie munson#i recently caught up on stranger things and i honestly regret not doing that before
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This is payback for the 40 something sentences btw
👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁😘😘😘😘
I brought this upon myself.... i have many regrets.
👧🏼 - dad!buck teacher!tommy (bucktommy)
“Daddy’s coming?” Bella asks, looking up at Buck with the biggest puppy eyes. “Not today, baby, you’re at big school now!” He replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on! I’ll show you where your class is,” Christopher says enthusiastically, offering up a simple wave to Carla before he starts walking towards the classrooms, looking back towards Bella when he realises she’s not following. “Daddy has to come,” she begs, grasping on to Buck’s leg and holding on for dear life. Buck honestly didn’t expect Bella to cry when he went to leave — frankly, he thought he’d be the one crying, watching his girl all grown up. Bella was never really the shy kid, always happy to meet new people and do new things. She could talk to strangers for hours about the most outlandish things. The other week they were at the zoo with the Diaz’s and Bella had walked up to the zookeeper, asking 100 different questions about sea otters which had become Bella’s latest hyperfixation for about a week. Buck had watched her talking away, smiling fondly. He had turned to Eddie shaking his head saying he didn’t know where she got it from to wish Eddie gave him a very pointed look and said, “Seriously?” So apparently ADHD is hereditary. Point is, he didn’t really plan on Bella clinging to him the way she was now, and he didn’t know what to do. He’d do anything for his daughter, and watching her look up at him as she clung to his pant leg, made his heart break. He was helpless to do anything but walk up to her classroom with her. They followed Christopher into the school, taking twists and turns that had Buck worrying how he was going to get out of this maze when he left. Chris finally stopped at the door of a class that had a bright pink number 5 cut out stuck to the door. “Are we absolutely sure this is room five?” Buck joked upon seeing the sign. Bella looked up at him, hand still gripped tightly to Buck’s and said, “Yeah, Daddy, see! Number five!” she said, pointing to the door. They’d been practising number’s recently, Bella already surpassing Buck’s mental arithmetic ability by being able to add 5 and 7 — Buck still had to use his fingers. She definitely inherited her mother’s ability for math. A second bell rang loudly in the hall, causing Bella to jump slightly in his hold. He squeezes her hand gently a few times to comfort her before looking towards Chris who still needed to get to his room. “See you later, Bella!” Christopher says, turning to walk down the hall towards his own class. “Come on, Bellie,” Buck said, guiding Bella into the class. There were about 10 other children sat at desks in the class, a few still with their parents which made Buck feel better about coming into the room with his daughter — not that he would leave anyway, not until he knew his daughter was happy. Noticing some cubby holes at the back of the class, Buck ushered Bella towards them to put her bag down. Distracted by getting Bella into the desk that had her name on it, and getting her settled, Buck never stopped to look at the front of the class towards the teacher. When Bella had finally let go of his had, now apparently forgetting his existence and chatting very enthusiastically to a boy sat beside her, Buck looked up to see Bella’s teacher drawing in big letters on the whiteboard. Buck has no idea how he missed him walking in because the man was huge. Buck thought his arms were huge as a firefighter but holy shit… apparently being a teacher makes you built like a fucking tank. The man was writing in curly letters on the board, spelling out “Mr. Kinard”. Once he’d finished he turned to face the room. Buck instantly noticed his deep blue eyes and the cleft of his chin that painted a very lovely picture for him to look at. The man caught his eye for a moment and smiled, the corners of his eyes and nose scrunching with smile lines that Buck felt completely normal about. Buck had to clamp his mouth shut when he realised that he’d been staring, slack jawed at the objectively very handsome teacher.
🚁 - helicopter crash s8 (bucktommy)
The siren blares loudly above his head, some suburban house fire or something. Buck only half registers it, still stuck staring at the screen in front of him. He’s distantly aware of Eddie calling for him but he just can’t right now. He can’t. Captain Gerrard moves in front of the TV, forcing Buck to snap out of his gaze. “Get a fucking move on, Buckley,” he practically spits. Buck moves mechanically, forcing himself out of his chair and following his captain down towards the fire engines. “Can I— Can I be man behind this time?” Buck says, his voice sounding small to his own ears. “No,” Gerrard replies simply, not even turning to look back at him. Johnson had been the man behind all day, apparently in punishment for failing to adequately wash the fire engine. Buck knew that the real reason was because Gerrard caught his boyfriend dropping him off in the morning. “Please,” Buck says again, hating the way his voice breaks in the middle. He can’t focus right now — he’d be useless as a firefighter at the scene. It would be safer for everyone if he stayed back. Please— “Get in the truck,” Gerrard shouts at him.
😘 - pet names 10+1 (bucktommy)
Buck swallows. “What-whatever do you mean, sweetums?” Buck says, before wincing immediately. “Okay, okay,” Buck relents, “I’m trying out pet names. And they’re not going great, especially not sweetums.” Buck cringes again. “But, I will come up with a good one. Just you wait.” Tommy’s expression turns fond as he stares at Buck with the cutest look Buck thinks a man could possibly make. “Baby, you don’t have to give me a pet name. Tommy’s fine,” Tommy says sincerely. “Besides,” Tommy says, lips quirking up at the edges. “I kinda like hearing you moan my name.” Buck trips through the door.
#james you killed me with this just so you know#i am dead#bucktommy#911 abc#911 fandom#evan buck buckley#purple asks#purple writes#911 fic#911 show#911 wip#helicopter fic#pet names fic#dad buck teacher tommy
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hornylovesickmess – Nico Hischier
Summary: Marie should know better by now, knows she should leave him alone, but Nico's like a drug. One more hit can't hurt.
Author’s Note: Almost a year to the day I finally finished this album series. Phew! Also lol to me thinking I'd have the motivation to finish it in 10 weeks. Seems clear from the title but it does get steamy below.
Word Count: 2.6k
Album Series Masterlist
And I don't wanna be the type of person who calls you up Every time I need to get off
The view from her hotel room is taunting her. It’s sunny and bright on the Hudson River, reflecting off the buildings of the New York skyline.
Most people wouldn’t be too upset about being put up in a nice hotel and having 48 hours free in close proximity to the city, but Marie had moved away for a reason.
And still part of her is stuck here, even at a 4-star hotel minutes away from Newark airport.
So, she does what she does best and gives into her baser instincts.
She’s no stranger to crafting the perfect sext, keeping it tantalizing and teasing enough while still giving her location. Like an eloquent ‘u up?’
Marie hits send before she can second guess herself.
She shouldn’t be reaching out to him, grabbing for that loose thread and pulling for her own selfish reasons. But she’s been lonely since the move and in all honestly, just plain horny.
Nico almost swallows his tongue when he opens the text.
At first glance a simple picture of the New York skyline, but at second glance the reflection of a naked woman comes into view.
It might as well be Marie’s calling card.
He regrets opening the text in the locker room.
“What the hell has you that red Neeks?” Bastian calls from his stall.
He can feel the blush getting darker.
“The last time you looked like that was because of that flight attendant,” Bratter calls out.
When he doesn’t respond balls of tape come flying his way with a chorus of groans.
“It’s not like I texted her first!”
“You never text her first,” Jack rolls his eyes.
“I’m not texting her back.”
“Block her number while you’re at it,” Bratt responds.
Nico stashes his phone away and mostly forgets about the text.
||||
She checks her phone for about the fifth time during drinks with her friends. She knows what they’re thinking, but they’re not gonna say it.
It’s especially kind of them since Nico hasn’t responded. Even though he’s the type of guy to have read receipts on, so she knows he looked at her message.
Her phone buzzes, she pulls it out of her pocket so fast she fumbles it, dropping it on the bar. Her friend snatches it up and laughs.
“It’s a notification from Postmates, you have coupon.”
Marie feels herself flush, embarrassed to be caught like some kind of junkie waiting for their next hit.
“Jesus Christ, just go get laid! You’re unbearable when you’re wound this tight. It’s not even worth the catch up.”
“Fine, I’ll go, but only because I haven’t had sex in months. See you on my next layover.”
“Unless you’re still jonesing for that Jersey dick!”
“It’s Swiss,” Marie sticks her tongue out.
She waves down a cab, and she should give the address to her hotel, but she’s in some sort of horny fugue state. Why go back and masturbate at her hotel thinking about him when she knows his address?
Before she knows it, she’s at his door fixing her hair and trying to lean seductively against the doorframe. Maybe she’s lost her mojo during her recent dry spell.
She knocks before she loses her nerve.
Marie hears someone lumbering along around on the other side of the door. Nico finally answers the door; shirtless with a pair of gray sweats low on his hips, hair flopping about like he just woke up.
Her mouth goes dry at the familiar sight, or maybe she salivates, or somehow both at the same time. She feels so out of sync with her hormones.
But she knows she wants, scratch that, needs.
“Thought maybe the picture just didn’t do the real thing justice,” she smirks even though she kind of wants to grimace at the cheesy line.
“I was trying to let you down easy,” he’s trying to avoid eye contact.
“Well, here I am, easy and ready to be let down on your bed.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. She can practically see his willpower crumbling piece by piece.
“C’mon, I haven’t been with anyone else since Denver.”
She dares to reach out, running a finger from his collarbone down, down, down, until Nico grabs her wrist.
“Just–“ he yanks her into the apartment, “get in here.”
Marie is flush against his chest now, she smirks, “that’s more like it.”
“Your picture got me in trouble in locker room, the boys think you’re no good for me.”
“Do you want me to be good for you?” She roughly grabs him through his sweatpants.
“I don’t think you could be if you tried,” he ruts against her palm.
She gentles her touch in response, she wants to be good, for Nico at least.
Marie can’t make eye contact now. If she looks up all the guilt of coming here after she promised herself she’d stop will come rushing back. She doesn’t have time for that when she can feel him hardening in her hand.
So, she closes her eyes and kisses him. Lets her tongue explore his mouth. Lets Nico manhandle her towards the bedroom. A path she’s too familiar with even with her eyes closed.
She doesn’t dare open her eyes until she’s flat on her back and hears Nico rummaging in the bedside table. As he comes back up with a condom, Marie works on the too many layers of clothes she’s still wearing.
He rolls on the condom and strokes himself slowly, “Is this you being good?”
Marie spreads her thighs and bites her lip, holding back demands for him to get on with it.
He pushes her legs even farther apart and nearly drapes himself over her. One finger runs up her slit, feeling how slick she is with desperation, he sucks the finger into his mouth and Marie can’t hold on any longer.
“Please, fuck, please,” she grapples for his shoulders anything to anchor her in the moment.
He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that to push in one go.
“Jesus Christ,” Marie gasps at the sudden intrusion, familiar as it is.
He sets an agonizingly slow pace, making her feel every unbearable movement without getting her any closer to her climax.
“C’mon Nico, give it to me,” she whines and clenches around him, trying to egg him on.
But it doesn’t deter him from his mission to tease her death, maybe it’s punishment for how she’s treated him.
She tries to move her own hips for more friction and still Nico keeps with his slow and steady pace.
Marie grabs his hair and makes him look at her, “I swear to god, if you don’t start really fucking me, I’m gonna explode.”
The evil little smirk he gives her, makes her stomach swoop.
“I knew you couldn’t stay good.”
“If being bad means I’ll have an orgasm, I guess I’m the devil,” she pulls him in for a kiss that’s probably too much tongue and teeth but she doesn’t care.
Then Nico takes her by surprise, flipping her onto all fours in such a fluid movement she already feels closer to coming. And that’s before he starts railing her from behind. The slap of skin and pornographic squelching fills the silence in the room.
Marie has lost all her witty words, can barely get enough air to make noises beyond tiny gasps. Nico knows exactly where to thrust, how to grip her hips, tweak her nipples, reach between her thighs and rub her clit. It’s too much, to have your body read like a book.
She clenches around him when she’s almost over the edge and feels him release, one hand tightening so hard on her hips it might bruise.
He blankets his body over her back, kissing her shoulders while he continues to rub her clit, buried deep inside her.
Her arms give out when she finally comes, her body singing with pleasure. Nico’s weight heavy on her, but she can’t bring herself to move him, it all feels too good.
She doesn’t remember when they move apart, or if they clean up at all, or if she peed afterward, she really hopes she at least did the last one. Still, she’s in hazy bliss before she’s rudely awoken from her dream-like state by her alarm obnoxiously ringing, too loudly at that.
She has to get out of the bed to find her phone her jeans pocket.
“Shit, fuck, shit,” she swears before having to put her clothes back on.
Nico’s alarm starts going off now. He sits up to see Marie half-dressed already.
“Of course,” he sounds so disappointed.
“I have a flight to catch and I still have to get my uniform and pack my suitcase.”
“Sure,” he sighs as he starts to get out of bed himself.
She probably deserves this, scratch that she knows she deserves this, but doesn’t mean she won’t defend herself.
“It’s a 9:30 Newark to DFW, look it up” she knows her shirt is inside out but that’s how late she is as she calls an Uber.
“Thanks for last night,” she gives Nico a quick kiss and leaves before he can respond.
Of course, when the elevator opens, Jack is the one standing on the other side, with an exhausted looking boy next to him. It’s probably his brother, Marie’s brain supplies the small Devils knowledge she has.
“That fucking idiot.”
“I showed up here, the blame is on me,” Marie holds her hands up in surrender.
“But the inside shirt and messed up hair is probably on him.”
“Probably can mostly blame me for that too, I know you want to.”
The look of disgust on his face makes that very clear.
Thankfully, the elevator door opens before the torture can continue.
||||
Marie goes back to rebuilding her resolve. She was trying to quit him cold turkey, not mess up Nico’s perfect little world again. But she couldn’t resist one more hit of her favorite drug.
Still, the universe isn’t making it easy for her to stay sober.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”
Marie and her coworkers all jump at the exclamation. When she turns around there’s Jack Hughes.
Nico is nowhere to be seen, so Marie is sure she can get away without making much of a scene.
“Of all the hotels in a city with multiple airports…” Jack doesn’t seem amused at her response, “I’m just as surprised as you, sorry the universe is clearly playing a sick joke on us.”
She runs off to her room before she has a chance encounter with Nico. Begs off from dinner plans with her coworkers. Masturbates in the shower in hopes of taking the edge off.
She’s wound up like a rubber band knowing Nico is so close. For all she knows, there’s only a wall separating them right now.
And of course, she gives in, because Marie is a fiend and a rotten person. How can she resist when the world laid it out on a platter like this.
She hopes he’s stronger than her and doesn’t respond, but she texts him regardless: I have it on good authority we’re in the same hotel
Marie can barely put her phone down before she gets a response.
Yeah for someone who doesn’t want me interacting with you Jack was quick to gossip
She can hear his tone through the words, hear his husky laugh at his own joke. Her chest feels like it’s squeezing her heart. Makes her act out of character.
Wanna get dinner or drinks or something?
Marie from a few months ago would be nauseous at this kind of proposition, but her present-self feels like she owes Nico… something different.
So, she finds herself tucked into a corner booth at some restaurant Nico says he’s been to before.
And she laughs at his jokes. Brushes her hand over his. Turns a bit soppy looking into his warm brown eyes.
And she knows she made a mistake.
But still, she holds his hand as they walk back to the hotel; swaying back and forth, a little wine-drunk.
Marie walks him to the door like she’s some sort of gentleman at the end of a first date, they both know the connotations are anything but gentlemanly.
“This was nice,” she smiles up at him.
“If you were still in Jersey, we could have nights like this all the time,”
That should deflate her a bit, but she’s made it too far for it to end here with some serious conversation, so she reaches into his pocket to grab his room key and unlock the door, shoving him into the room.
She kisses him, hard and needy. She desperately wants her lips everywhere. She follows that train down his jaw.
“Clearly you want this kind of thing too, or you wouldn’t come crawling to me anytime we’re in the same place,” his hands are bunching up the skirt of her dress.
She bites down on his neck, a little meaner than she should. But it gets him going enough to throw her onto his bed. Her underwear is gone and a finger is pushing into her before she can make any moves.
A second and third are soon to follow. The pressure from his thumb on her clit is enough to make her throw back her head and enjoy the intoxication.
His other hand cups her jaw, makes her open her eyes and look at him.
“This is all I wanted, but you had to be a brat who let me find out you moved by showing up to your empty apartment,” he stops moving his fingers, stops using any pressure.
“I apologized for that,” she whines, desperate and uncaring.
“Did you?” He crooks his fingers just so.
“I gave you a blow job,” Marie grits out.
He raises his brows while he pulls out, leaving her feeling emptier than ever before.
“Fuck.”
The realization crashes over her harder than any orgasm ever could.
She scrambles off the bed throwing on her underwear and grabbing her phone.
“I’m deleting your number.”
“What?”
“I moved to a city that doesn’t even have a hockey team to stay away from you and that’s not even working.”
“You moved because of me?” The crease between his brow is like a canyon.
“You wanted more and I knew I wasn’t– I’m not in a place to give that to you, but fuck! Whatever I’m doing now– I’m just being cruel, aren’t I?”
“I’m not exactly turning you away.”
“Doesn’t mean I should keep using you,” tears she wasn’t expecting start to well up, “Nico you’re worth a lot more than a quick fuck from a flight attendant who happens to be in the same zip code as you.”
Nico just stares at her and Marie knows she has to be the bigger person here.
“You should block me on everything too, don’t give me a way to weasel my way back in.”
Once she’s dressed, she moves towards Nico, moves a strand of hair off his forehead.
She feels like she should say something meaningful, but this isn’t that kind of relationship; Marie made sure of that when she scorched the earth behind her when she left.
She kisses him one last time and hopes she’ll be able to find her next hit in someone else.
#nico hischier#nico hischier fic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier imagines#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils#new jersey devils story#nj devils#nhl#nhl stories#nhl fic#hockey fics#hockey imagines
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Healed Heart
Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series
Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤
Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart
♡
Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting.
Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times.
You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only.
As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away.
For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage.
Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started.
The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm.
Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office.
“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice.
“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.”
You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her.
Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply.
“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation.
“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.”
You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it.
“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..”
You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home.
“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”
You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”
You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer.
“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.”
A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.”
It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’
You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort.
Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks.
Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself.
“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.”
“B-but you want to try?”
“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.”
“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly.
Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her.
“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.”
Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.
“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!”
You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back.
An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit.
‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite.
The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope.
It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage.
You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of.
He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.”
You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state.
“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..”
You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention.
“Um, stay..”
You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips.
“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words.
“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you.
“It is what I want.”
You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom.
Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms.
You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.
Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job?
You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you.
“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?”
Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”
You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu.
It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself?
“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream.
Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.
Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling.
“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”
Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face.
“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action.
“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?”
You wince at his spiteful words.
“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!”
“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.”
You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence.
“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table.
Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm.
After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily.
FLASHBACK.
Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.
As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life.
“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you.
“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.
END OF FLASHBACK.
You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner.
Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought.
Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream.
Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening.
As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness.
There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.
You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you.
Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”
You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you.
“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you.
As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage.
♡
Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark @patzammit @partypoison00 @cynic-spirit @n3ssm0nique @sohoseb @madbaddic7ed @moonlacebeam @ilovetheeagles @beautifulrose0809 @lovelyladymayyy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysticapples17 @whxre4cevans @firoozehmoon @spookyparadisesheep @mytbel0st @thatonelatina @snowy992 [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work]
#shattered heart mini series#healed heart#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans series#chris evans mini series#chris evans angst#chris evans x you#chris evans smut#rpf
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of honey and cinnamon | jjk
⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader
⇢ genre: fluff, one shot, slice of life au, enemies to lovers, musician!jungkook
⇢ word count: 14k
⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of terminal illness, mentions of death, themes of grief, slight plot twist, a surprising consumption of sugar, enough cheesiness to last you a lifetime
⇢ summary: what makes a three-day train ride back to your hometown anything but dull and dreadfully long? the answer, and your salvation from a boring trip home, was being stuck in the same cart as jeon jungkook for the entire ride there. unknown to you, he would turn this mundane trip into an unexpected adventure.
♪ playlist: dream a little dream of me - ella fitzgerald, departure - joe hisaishi, a journey (a dream of flight) - joe hisaishi, longing for mother's return - satoshi takebe, the sixth station - joe hisaishi, a town with an ocean view - joe hisaishi, you're in love - joe hisaishi, one summer's day - joe hisaishi ♪
a/n: this was honestly one of my favorite fics to write! ever! it was heavily inspired by studio ghibli movies hence the playlist because i recently binged a bunch of ghibli films (and i do not regret it) so, i tried to replicate the vibes from the movies i watched as best as i could!! :)) i hope you lovely readers enjoy!
They tell you love takes time. If you are patient and attentive enough, it courses through your body easier than your own blood and sinks itself in each vessel and bone and cell. Love will melt into your heart until that is all it knows. And in tales where lovers make grand gestures, like slaying the dragon and giving the moon and the stars and the sky along with the world underneath it and bestowing true love's kiss, it takes an entire story to get to the part where they are in love.
Love takes time, and in that time, there is a series of sometimes likely, and sometimes unlikely, events woven delicately within each minute that leads to the moment you know, you are in love. Traditionally, love makes itself known. It is loud and beautiful and anything but hidden within the ordinary moments used to fill in the gaps between the bigger moments.
This story, your story, existed during the moments in between.
This train station had always emulated such an archaic ambiance. So much so that you believed you'd traveled back in time to when it was first built. Everything felt surreal, when you stepped on the train making a beeline to Cart 102, the floors felt like water; the surface tension clinging just strong enough to keep you afloat not without the occasional toss and turn. You swore it was just the rusted tracks that jostled you, but a part of you knew it was the water.
"Single rider?" The attendant stood at your cart's checkpoint, hand extended and waiting for your ticket.
"Yes, here." You handed him the paper, along with your baggage but kept the book for future entertainment and the pillow because you could tell the seats were no softer than wood.
"The train is fully occupied, so someone will be sharing your cart."
Perfect. If the world wants to do you a favor, just this once, then you hope that it sends you a quiet passenger. One that exchanges the customary 'hello' and 'goodbye' which is the extent of your interaction with them because you were tired in a way that sunk you into your zone of unsociability and on your way back home for the worst possible reason.
And the world did, in fact, do you a favor. It delivered Jungkook to Cart 102. But it just was not the favor you expected.
At first, you believed him to tick all your requirements for the ideal travel companion. Perfectly manicured company with a clear sense of boundaries. For one, he entered with a wall of silence that not only kept a greeting gated in but even the slightest acknowledgment that you were seated right across from him. It was so natural for him to ignore you that you had to glance down at your hand to check if you really were invisible.
He took his seat, stared out of the frost dusted window that reflected the sliding door that separated you and this man from the rest of the train and the world, and sighed. For a moment, he just stared and you thought it would get easier from here. But then he turned to you, and smiled.
"Hi, I'm Jungkook." It was a full smile, one that showed nearly every tooth, which reminded you of a rabbit. That paid enough respect for the previous shouldered entrance, and at first it was cute. Then, it made you feel guilty.
It was a smile you couldn't afford to return at the moment, so instead, you offered back a slightly upturned lip and a cordial nod.
"___." His hands looked strong like they had handled an array of heavy things and had the calluses to prove it. The way he sat made you feel a spark of something.
It was only a few seconds later when you realized that something was an unbridled annoyance. His legs were spread out, having you picturing the times he'd monopolize the space on a crowded bus. Jungkook was probably the type of man who was born with an entitlement that carried through to every part of his life, including the way he sat down on trains and pissed the living hell off of you.
"Like what you see?" Now you were pissed off for two reasons. The way he sat and the fact that you just got caught staring at him; his lap to be specific.
Soon, the two reasons doubled when your eyes returned to the smile on his face that didn't seem to have gone away. He was proud to catch you in the act, and most likely assumed your staring was due to an attraction so gripping that you couldn't help yourself but to stare at his crotch of all things.
"No, I was just..." Your words caught in your throat, because you weren't about to explain why his spread position on the seat had drawn an irritation from you thicker than the blood pulsing loudly through your body. You didn't want him to know you cared enough to be irritated in the first place, even if that meant letting him believe your staring was a form of unspoken flattery. "No."
"Okay, whatever you say, ___." It was the sarcasm this time, and the way he said your name that pissed you off. There was a seed inside you, ready to bury in your gut and grow just enough for you to rip his tongue from his mouth so he'd never have to say your name again.
"You'd think you didn't want to make the person you're about to spend three days on a train with angry, but maybe you're just that dumb." Insulting him gave you instant relief from the headache you knew was about to assume your forehead.
"Damn. Guess you're not the type to take a joke." Jungkook revealed his teeth one by one again, but you didn't describe it as a smile. A smile is something you thought to be beautiful, a physical expression of joy. No, what his face possessed was something sadistic. You were sure of it.
The way he carried himself and voiced his thoughts were more concentrated than arrogance. There was not a word in any language that could properly describe Jungkook. Nor was there a feeling that could render yours into something palpable. And the world had sealed you inside this cell marked Cart 102 with the person who was grainy and slick like quicksand, and just as deadly because you were sinking into him and every feeling he had provoked within the ten minutes you'd known him.
Jungkook was the first person you hated. Beyond every rude customer, every demanding boss, every high school bully, every cut tie, there was Jungkook who wore that heavy medallion of hatred around his neck like he was proud of it.
In all honesty, you thought he should wear it. He earned it. Everyone should know that you hated Jungkook and that it only took him a record-breaking ten minutes to attain the once unattained title.
You began to read your book, however 'read' didn't accurately describe what you were doing, which was staring blankly through the same words while collecting more reasons why you hated this man. It became an obsession of yours in a few short moments, because now you didn't just hate the way he sat and spoke and smiled. You hated how his breathing was somehow louder than the wheels grinding against the metal tracks or how whenever another train would pass by, he'd bring his face so close to the window you could see the warmth of his breath cling onto the glass and form a small, foggy patch.
You especially hated that you could quite literally feel his eyes on you, blistering your skin like the way a magnifying glass would redirect the sun's rays onto a target, which just so happened to be your face. Jungkook was unrelenting; as if he were trying to sear your skin with a permanent brand of his eyes.
Between the rhythmic flipping of the pages that you weren't reading, you were compelled to reprimand him for the staring. Maybe throwing his own words back into his face about 'liking what you see' would do your own vengeance justice. But that might indicate you were thinking of what he said to you this whole time.
"The weather looks so cold. It's practically raining." You moved only your eyes up from your book to study him.
He was looking out the window again, eyes chasing each speck of mist preluding the raindrops that were surely going to fall. It always rained at night.
"Looks like another thunderstorm." You packaged up the gasp that was about to burst from your chest.
For reasons you'd rather not share with a complete stranger you were hellbent on hating, you were terrified of thunder. Not lightning, but the loud crash that followed it. It was the last thing you wanted to experience while bottled up in a train with Jungkook.
"Excuse me." Your abrupt stance interrupted Jungkook's rain watching.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"None of your business." The slam of the sliding door echoed the anger you didn't express before as it snapped shut, fractionating the air you once shared with Jungkook.
You took a deep breath, the air outside felt cooler. The attendant was loyal to his assigned post, which was convenient for you.
"Sir, is there any way I can switch carts?"
"No, full train. And your ticket says Cart 102, so that's where you were meant to be." His eyes were sheltered by his hat, so there was no chance of pleading with your eyes if you couldn't even see his.
"Fine." It was a long shot, one that you didn't have the aim or trajectory for. You suppose he was right. Cart 102 was where you belonged for now. You just couldn't accept that Jungkook also belonged there with you.
Inside, the warm yellow light was beckoning you back in. Through the door, the brightness glimmered out until it was consumed by the dark hall where you stood. Jungkook was looking out of the window again with a rising and falling chest; you could hear his breathing even from behind the door or at least, you could imagine how it would sound.
"If we're going to share a cart, we could at least be friends." Jungkook's suggestion made him too human, too real for you to hate. You wanted to cling on to the idea that he was a horrible person, harboring more vices than the devil himself. But his voice was friendly sometimes, and his smile looked loving, occasionally, when he presented it to you.
"I don't see why we can't just be silent for the rest of the ride."
"Why are you going back home?" For a second, you were shocked enough to forget you were supposed to hate him. His gaze was calm and carried none of the worries yours had. You wondered, just for a second, about all the others who were on the receiving end of his gaze, and if they felt the way you felt when he looked at you. That look that distinguished him from anyone you had ever met.
You didn't want him to be right, because you didn't want the 'why' to be real. The tragedy, the only thing demanding enough to peel you away from your life away from home, should not have been the 'why' that put you on this train. But it was, and it made you angrier than he did.
"How do you know I'm going home?" You injected each word with a sharpness that you hoped would sting Jungkook.
"Well, are you going home?"
"Yes... are you?"
"No, just visiting." His eyes returned to the window, like a refrain in a poem. Always returning to look somewhere out into the beyond.
"Well, you should count yourself lucky." And you returned back to your refrain, pretending to read just so you wouldn't get caught staring at him and listing more reasons you hated Jungkook because that was easier than thinking of what was really bothering you.
"Lucky. Huh." You wanted to know what was so captivating on the other side of the window. What could have possibly supplied his eyes with something that was more interesting than the inside of this train? "Why are you going back home?"
"You already asked that."
"And you didn't answer me." Perhaps it was the stars, and he was tracking them in his mental inventory, examining until they were replicated along his memory the same way they were plotted across the sky. "Why are you going back home?"
"My mom. She's dying." Stars seemed to be a beautiful thing to keep your eyes occupied in a way your mind couldn't be, but you couldn't see past the thick fog and lack of light. "She's sick."
"I'm sorry to hear." His sincerity worked against all the animosity you'd cultivated for him.
How could he see the stars? You were going to ask, but you didn't want him to know what lied beyond the small beacon of light surrounding the train was lost to you, or rather you lost them. You wanted to hate him, so you didn't ask.
"I knew something bad must have happened to get someone like you to come home." That comment certainly suffocated any benefit of the doubt you were going to bestow upon him. Jungkook was arrogant and entitled, and in your most recent discovery, presumptuous and judgmental. Everything wrong with this world. No amount of dashing smiles and considerate questions could change that. You had to remember, you hated this man
"How dare you! How- How dare you assume something so rude!" The cloth of your pillowcase had almost worn through from how tight your fists were gripping them. You felt the fire burning through your nerves, soon about to combust and set Cart 102 ablaze. "I hate you."
It was two in the morning, or at least those were the numbers shining from your watch. The window offered the same pitch blackness that frustrated you, so you decided to give your legs some employment from sitting.
The hall of the train was nearly as dark as the outside; the overhead lights once drizzling down a soft glow were turned off. You wandered down the stretch of the medium but the further you walked, the thinner the walkway felt. Soon, the walls on either side of you were pressed against your shoulders so snugly, you had to turn your body to squeeze through.
"Having trouble?" You knew that voice; you hated that familiar inflections and conceit planted in each word he spoke.
"Can't you see I'm trying to walk?" Squinting proved to be obsolete while trying to see whatever destination was in the distance. "Why is everything so dark?"
"Because, you're not trying." If you could turn around, if these walls weren't beginning to smother your body to immobilization, then you would have run over to him and slapped the smile right off of his face. Because you were trying, you were trying to see this whole time but the dark had infested everywhere.
Unfortunately for you, the walls were connecting closer and closer, as if trying to move through you so they could reach each other and close altogether. But where would that leave you? When the gap was stitched shut, where would you be?
The walls were softer than you thought, but still forceful enough to steal all the air from your lungs leaving you a panicked mess lodged between these unkind walls. And the pressure wasn't enough to kill you, but it was just enough to leave you stuck and miserable.
"Jungkook, help me, I can't..."
Day One
Your dream was vivid enough to mislead you into thinking it was real. It wasn't until your eyes fluttered open, and consciousness spilled into your mind like a gentle breeze that you realized the nightmare was over. The window allowed a soft light into Cart 102, making you more thankful for the day than you had ever been in your entire life. You lifted your head from your pillow placed on the seat that you didn't recall placing there, and now that you think of it, you didn't remember falling asleep either.
You especially didn't remember covering yourself with this wool coat that smelled like the air after a bonfire had just finished browning marshmallows and dissolving wood.
"Someone's finally awake." Then it all came back to you. You wondered why everything felt so tranquil. It was a shame you couldn't enjoy the peace before the omen of annoyance, your special nickname for Jungkook, had returned.
"What time is it?" Your eyes were blinking away the sleep, and when that failed, your hands began to rub them until they were able to prop open fully.
"Eight-thirty. Here." He set down a Styrofoam cup of something hot enough for steam to escape through the open space of the lid. It smelled sweeter than coffee.
"What is it?" Your question came after you had already picked it up to furnish your hands with warmth and your nose with the delectable aroma leaking from this cup.
Jungkook’s smile was hidden behind his cup, already half empty, withholding an answer from you because he wanted to see if you would try it before you knew what it was.
"Don't worry, it's not poison." You figured it could be counted as retribution in the form of a nice pick-me-up for all the irritation he'd caused you, not to mention the fact that even in your dreams, he couldn't seem to leave you alone. No, Jungkook's presence was something that would slip through the realm of your sleep, the only place you thought you could escape him.
You sipped slowly, and the drink inside the cup made a quick and favorable acquaintance with your tongue. The contents were something you'd be able to identify separately, but when combined, they were delicious and elusive all at once.
"Wow, this is great!" The smile escaped faster than a spilled cup of water, and before you could clean the messy evidence of your gratitude, Jungkook returned the same smile, but his wasn't a spill; his smiles were never an accident, and you could almost resent him for it.
Almost.
"You like it, huh? Didn't take you to be a fan of sweet things." Both pairs of eyes were taken by the scenery just on the other side of the window decorated with streaks of the fallen dew drops.
His pride was untamed, and you assumed it was because Jungkook never took any action to dilute his own conceit. You liked to imagine how often Jungkook could arm himself with that smile, that laugh, which you were not too blind in your own despise to admit were both conventionally attractive assets of his, and everyone in a ten foot radius would fall into his hands. The world seemed to rest in his hands, and all he had to do was smile.
Not you, though. You were certain you had polished yourself with enough perspective so you wouldn’t be foolish enough to let something as shallow as a charming smile fracture your walls. Though, it was increasingly frustrating, verging on the point of catastrophe, how difficult it was to convince yourself of this and to ignore the image of his smile, sneaking its way to the forefront of your thoughts after brushing it off seconds before.
It was overcast, and the grey from the sky had permeated along the air below, yet it didn't puncture the vibrancy of the ever-extending grassy plains. They seemed to continue on forever, as if you walked out to the horizon it would take an eternity to find the end of the green landscape. The wind acted as music to which each blade of grass had been dancing an instinctive choreography.
And every so often, a patch of flowers would appear, perform its part, then disappear just as quickly.
For a moment, you wondered what Jungkook thought of the small bits of the world this window was displaying. Did he think it was just as beautiful as you did?
"It's honey, cinnamon, and milk. My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid." Though the view was timeless, you finally broke your gaze to look at Jungkook.
It was hard to imagine this man, the harbinger of almost every ounce of anger you have ever felt in your life, as a child who would drink milk with honey and cinnamon made by his mother. But then again Jungkook's face began to change, or at least the way you saw it morphed into something entirely different.
His bright eyes didn't look like they could be from this world. Not when they seemed to hold everything in his line of vision within them so warmly that it could spread magic over everything around him; like a fairy tale, but this magic rested in the two sockets of his eyes. Something so enigmatic made you want to snap at him just so he would look at you instead, and hold you in his eyes. As though to be held by his eyes would fix all your problems.
"Hm." You looked down at the cup, trying to savor each sip however ultimately failing since the honey melted in with the milk and perfectly heightened each flavor.
Without thinking, you wrapped the coffee-colored coat tighter around your body. It was blissful, sipping a cup of delight inside Cart 102, protected from the prickly wind of the winter while still being vended a view of its beauty. This train ride was almost perfect, if not for the (slightly less) bothersome burden that sat across from you.
"Looks good on you." He didn't have to specify he was referring to his jacket that was giving you comfort.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't-"
"Nah, keep it. You looked cold when you were asleep. You were shivering so much it basically sounded like you were begging for my jacket." Jungkook laughed softly.
Maybe two hours ago you would have been brimming with enough rage to rip his jacket off of you and throw it in his face because it sure sounded like he was pitying you or guilting you into a 'thank you' that you were too petty to relinquish. But now, in the morning that tamed you, stomach digesting a tasty drink given by none other than Jungkook, you let it slide.
Just this once, you thought.
"Well, that was very kind of you. And thank you for the drink, but I don't need some stranger doing me any favors."
"Wow, you sure are stubborn!" He laughed again, even though you had been nothing but uninviting of his advances, he just laughed.
"Am not." You muttered.
"Whatever you say." Just this once, you let him have the last word. Just this once.
One emptied cup of Jungkook's special later and you were energized enough to read, and hopefully retain the story rather than flipping mindlessly through the pages while you fueled your attention with rage.
Jungkook was busying himself, putting thought to paper. The quick ticks of his pencil against the wooden table was enough to earn him a passive-aggressive sigh from you, and you hoped he was perceptive enough to get the hint.
The ticks continued, even spaced out to a consistent pace as if he was beating a drum just to anger you. Your annoyance was once again brimming over, ready to spill into another display of it that consisted of a furrowed brow, a scowl, and a slew of incoherent retorts that had been brewing in your mind.
"Can't you write any quieter?" It hadn't measured up to all the clever insults you had loaded into your verbal weaponry, but it did the job to convey your frustration which obviously hadn't been communicated through your previous sigh.
"I'm not writing, actually! I'm trying to figure out the time signature for this piece. Three-six just isn't right." The pencil once tapping out a rhythm was now tucked between his teeth, and you could tell this was a habit of his from the various other tooth-shaped indents along the end of the pencil.
"Whatever, just... do it quietly."
"Quietly? This process is anything but quiet."
"Then try your very hardest."
"I'll try. Emphasis on try."
Though your eyes had reunited with your book, your curiosity pledged allegiance to what Jungkook was writing on his paper. It took an effortful battle between your urges and your restraint to finally ask him.
"What's a time signature?"
"Kind of like a rhythmic guide. For music. I'm a composer, and I'm hoping I can get this fellowship to work with professionals all around the world!" Jungkook's response came almost immediately after your question and his answer consisted of more information than you asked for, which meant this was something he was passionate about. Either that or he just loved talking about himself. It could have easily been both.
However, from the way his eyes held the world, they seemed to hold the music etched onto his paper the tightest. Like, if he were to let go then he would lose any and all purpose to hold on to anything else.
"You make music? Like songs on the radio and stuff?"
"No, not really. Songs for movies. I want to be a film composer."
"Oh. Is that why you're traveling? To study with a professional?" You surprised yourself more than him with that question.
"No... I, um. I wish that was the reason." Before asking him what his reason was, you stopped yourself from letting yet another question slip from your mouth.
Because you were supposed to hate him. Jungkook made everything difficult, even the notion of hating him was made to be a challenge. Asking him questions, learning about him, making the person in front of you turn into something with more dimensions than two was pointless when in a couple days, you'd leave this train and never see him again. Better to go back to hating him.
It wasn't as satisfying as before. Now that you've acquired some knowledge of who he was beyond an obnoxious seat hog and arrogance asshole, the reasons to hate him were beginning to be outweighed by all the other reasons to not hate him.
So far, you learned he was a musician. A passionate up and comer who gives strangers his jacket when they look cold, and shares a drink of milk and honey and cinnamon because it reminds him of his childhood. Someone who has made biting his pencil into a habit when he was working through a thought, who would often stare out windows and saw all the stars you couldn’t; someone who was quick to try to make friends with even the most emotionally withdrawn people.
Shortly after taking more time than planned on recounting all the things you learned about Jungkook, you felt indebted to him since he only knew two things about you.
You were stubborn and you had a sick mom. Or at least, you believed these were the only parts of yourself he picked up on. The rest were things he’d observed with an attentive eye of which you had not noticed had been studying your mannerisms in the same way you studied his.
When you left the cart abruptly after he mentioned the thunderstorm that was somehow delayed for tonight, he was correct to assume it was because you were afraid of the storm. Now, whether it was the thunder or lightning that rattled you so viciously you had to walk off your fear was yet to be discovered. Jungkook was confident he’d figure it out.
Or, how he watched you when you were sleeping in a way he wouldn’t describe as creepy since it was endearing to see you sleep. In fact, he was doing his best to ignore you, but your muffled groans had revealed to him you were the type to have the occasional nightmare. Again, the dream itself was something he was more than interested in discovering.
And your adorably executed performance of passive aggression didn’t evade him in the way you presumed it did. He heard the sigh and understood exactly what you were attempting to accomplish with that, but decided to act like your effort to shut him up wasn’t completely transparent. Mostly because he wanted you to ask him what he was doing.
Jungkook wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but he enjoyed the way you spoke, even if it was drenched in a thick layer of annoyance. For now, he decidedly stuck with finding innocuous ways to fall back into a conversation with you, to slowly but surely learn all that he could in this three-day train ride.
At half-past three, lunch had been served, consumed, and digested. Jungkook’s plate, however, was just short of being completely gone. Everything had been notably ravaged by him except for the pile of walnuts he picked out of his salad at the beginning of the meal.
“Not a fan of walnuts?” You convinced yourself this question came from a place that was starting to feel queasy from the silence that was more intoxicating than the small glass of complimentary wine you downed a little too quickly.
“Allergic. Nothing too serious, though. My throat gets itchy and sometimes I get a rash on my skin.” You made a mental note that Jungkook was allergic to walnuts, which you stored in the part of your brain that harbored knowledge that was completely useless to you yet you still reserved space for it to be memorized.
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, but it did come in handy when I was in class and didn’t want to be. I’d tell the teacher the cafeteria food had walnuts in it and I needed to go home and get my EpiPen before I died.” The list of things you knew about Jungkook continued to lengthen, and you couldn’t specify when it happened, but you began to enjoy every detail that made the list grow.
You wouldn’t have guessed it would take a single day for you to wish it would never stop growing. But then again, you didn’t realize this at the time.
“And that worked? Sounds like you had your luck laid out for you from the beginning.” Jungkook smiled at this, the same bunny-toothed smile from yesterday, but it felt much different to you now, as if you were one smile away from forgetting your once insistent hatred of Jungkook.
“Yeah, I guess so. What about you? What are your allergies?”
“Other than overly friendly weirdos on trains? Nothing.” It was the strangest reaction to feel proud, of all things, when you were rewarded by his laugh. It was softer than the wind rushing against the side of the train, however his laugh outperformed every other sound in the surrounding area until it was all your ears could focus on.
“Then it seems you’re the lucky one. No allergies. Free to eat whatever you want.” His eyes parceled between the sheet music in his hands and you. Though, it was difficult to pull them back down to his work since this was the first time he had your undivided attention that was not born from annoyance or repulsion to whatever he was doing.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m free to eat whatever. I have standards.”
“Really?” It was his not-so-discreet way of trying to capture all the pieces of you that he could, but from your slow intake of air, it seems as though you weren’t entirely finished with talking to him either.
“Cilantro. It’s absolutely disgusting. And mushrooms. I can’t stand mushrooms.”
“I love mushrooms.” Of course, you do, you thought. He didn’t have to say it, but he most likely loved cilantro as well. And you were most definitely right.
“I suppose you love everything I hate?” Eye contact with Jungkook was more than you could handle ever since his mannerisms stopped annoying you and started intimidating you, so you found refuge in the scenery beyond the window. It never failed you during the day, but at night you would have to scavenge for something to stare at when Jungkook’s eyes were close to stealing your breath away.
“I suppose you hate everything I love.”
It took a careful eye to catch the subtle hints of emotion that even you were too distracted to notice. Jungkook’s eye was trained pretty well in observation of the hidden traces of even the most thoroughly subdued emotions. His eyes were so well versed in gathering the scarce evidence of emotions that it prompted him to ask his next question:
“What are you looking for?”
Now, your eyes were still averted by his, so you held on to the slowly fading daylight while you still could. But, sadly, the window was a distraction of sight, not sound, so you heard his question loud and clear and felt obligated to give him an answer. Even if your answer was pathetic.
“Just looking at the grass. It’s pretty.”
“I didn’t ask what you were looking at, I asked what you were looking for.”
Determining what emotion you let slip through the quiver in your lip was a task Jungkook wasn’t well equipped for just yet. In all fairness, he had only known you for a short while and he still felt disappointed in himself for not being able to know what he made you feel with that question.
“I don’t know.” You couldn’t help the stunned tone of your voice, but that was all that could fuel your words at the moment. “I guess… A distraction. It’s so beautiful out there.”
“Everything looks beautiful when you only have a small amount of time to admire it.” Whatever distraction you were looking for had certainly met your eyes and did its job since you had absolutely no clue he was staring right at you when he said that. That he was savoring the small amount of time he had to admire you.
Jungkook was right, which was a habit of his that he took unrestrained pride in; life was beautiful when you moved through it with such little time to spare. Though slamming your hand in a doorway was something you would sooner do than admitting he was right.
The fabric of time moved in a peculiar fashion when inside a train. You move so fast and yet, not at all, and it is as if there is a tear where the train moves through, and evades the grips of each minute that transports the future into the present and the present into the past. It felt this way the moment you stepped onto the train, so when you checked the time, it didn’t surprise you that it was already an hour before midnight.
The daytime had slowly melted away, carefully, the way ice shrunk inside a glass of water until it combined with its surroundings, and the plains of grass could only exist in your memory right now. The blackness of night consumed everything beyond your window once again, though there was the occasional streetlamp that provided a glimpse of everything you couldn’t see as of now.
What you couldn’t see was nowhere near as frightening as what you were about to hear.
The first flash of lightning felt like a warning. It took a few seconds for the wretched boom of thunder to follow, which was the interval of time you foolishly hoped it would, just this once, fail to accompany that streak of light. That perhaps this train moved quick enough to outrun the storm.
“___? Are you okay?”
You didn’t notice your hands had immediately cupped your ears until Jungkook’s voice was filtered through as a jumble of indiscernible noises.
“Sorry, I just…” Steadying your breath was a toll that required an upfront payment of all your attention, so your previously muted voice and steady tone had gone out of the metaphorical window, along with the rest of your response.
“So it’s the thunder.” Jungkook said softly to himself. It didn’t matter since your hands were being utilized as makeshift earplugs. They seemed to deflect every sound except for the thunder that punctured through your barrier effortlessly.
Before, Jungkook had this preconception of you. From the minute he stepped into Cart 102, he could tell you were the type to carry yourself steadily, the type that supplied their own assurance and isolated their emotions in the same way you isolated yourself. But here you were, hands clamped against your ears, eyes pressed shut and body shaking; this was a surplus of emotions you let seep through your walls. It was expressive enough for any dimwitted onlooker to know exactly what you were feeling: pure fear.
And Jungkook had always been adept to telltale signs of what was buried beneath the obvious emotions. He could tell you wanted to be distracted. You needed help.
It was easier to stifle one sense if you stifled them all at once. If you didn’t want to see, you had to plug your ears and hold your breath. And in this case, to block out the sound, you had to shut your eyes and numb the rest of your body in the slim chance that the thunder wouldn’t penetrate through your poorly constructed firewall.
Suddenly, you felt the space beside you sink lower which meant Jungkook had taken the liberty of invading your space at the worst possible time. It was difficult to focus on blocking out the sound when you could feel the side of his shoulder bump lightly against yours.
“___.” You shifted towards him slowly, waiting for his explanation of why he was on your side of the cart. “Can I touch you?”
You were past your wit's end, spending the last bits of your sanity trying to calm yourself from the second crash of thunder that made your body lift from the seat for a solid two seconds. All you could do was nod, and hope he wasn’t a serial killer that was about to strangle you to death in a moment of vulnerability.
He was working in your favor, just like when he wrapped you up in his coat and set that cup of milk in front of you, he moved in determination to comfort you. And if it weren’t for the dire circumstances, your pride would have refused the security of his arms that were carefully enveloping your body and eliminating the frigid space around you. You hadn’t realized how cold this train was until you were invited into Jungkook’s warmth. He had somehow silenced the storm, and all you had to do was let him.
The third blast of thunder pushed you deeper in his embrace, and you wrapped your arms around him tightly like the lifejacket he was that kept you from slipping below the surface of the angry ocean currents.
“If you couldn’t tell I-” Boom, “I hate thunder.” Your voice came out strained through the fear-induced filter lodged in your throat.
“No, actually, I couldn’t tell at all.” Nine out of ten of your thoughts were concentrated on the thunder, and that one exception was applied towards how annoyingly sarcastic Jungkook managed to be through thick and thin. It was impressive enough that he could subtract the fear even by a small fraction for you to laugh.
“You’re so-” Boom, “You’re insufferable.”
His laugh was noticed through the gentle bounce of his chest that rocked your head more than the actual sound of it. Soon, a hand came to run through your hair and with each stroke, he somehow removed your terror layer by layer until you were afforded with indifference to the storm simply because you were lulled into a half-sleep and were now too exhausted to care about the thunder.
“You’re okay. Everything is okay. You’re doing great. Breathe deep.” His chest smelled the same as his coat. A fire burning so brightly, sending the aromas of everything it consumed into the air.
Now your attention belonged to the warmth of his arms, and how he moved his hand through your hair with something deeper than kindness. It was selflessness because he too was scared and tired and in need of rest. Despite this, he used the last of his energy to ward off the threat of a second panic attack.
“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest, and it seemed as though it permeated through his flesh and ribs and absorbed straight into his heart from the way he held you even tighter.
The storm had settled, and the horrors of loud thunder were abandoned for quite some time now, but it felt too comfortable, too perfect for you to be anywhere else but here in his arms. So, what went unsaid was more than enough for him to retract any intention to return to his seat and instead hold you against his chest, where his heart would retain strength from being close to you.
You couldn’t tell if you had already slipped into a dream when you heard him singing softly, or if the melody of Dream a Little Dream of Me was actually being crafted by his voice so beautifully and fell into perfect synchronization with the rhythmic beat of his heart. Either way, you were thankful to bear witness to a sound that reduced the idea of thunder down to something that could never hurt you again, and instead made seeing all the stars the heavens could offer possible even through the darkest nights. You felt a well of tears moisten your cheeks.
In his arms, with his voice, you could see the stars.
Back in the dimmed hallway of the train, you could make out the outline of a figure standing in the distance, waiting for you. Waiting, but about to run out of time. You saw her slowly disappear the way wind would rustle the dying leaves off a tree in autumn. Slowly her body was wilting, disappearing, and the wind only picked up speed.
All you could think to do was run to her, your mother, the shell of a woman you had known and loved your whole life. Her frail body being stripped of flesh as easily as wind undresses a tree of its leaves until there is nothing but branch and bone.
The walls began to close again, and you knew you had to act faster. You had to push past the pressure of closing walls even if they were squeezing so tightly movement became impossible. All at once, the impossible became your burden to redesign into something possible, which was the only thing crushing your spirit more than these damn walls.
You were so close; you held your hand out and—
Day Two
Winter mornings always start the same. Your eyes began rediscovering sight before the rest of your senses flooded into function, then your stomach would get angry for digesting nothing but its own acid until you filled it. And just like yesterday, your pillow cushioned beneath your head on the seat and your body shielded from the rogue winter winds that snuck inside of your cart by the same bonfire scented coat.
“Rise and shine.” Jungkook said from behind the sheet music he was examining. He must have been stealing glances of you every five minutes or so to catch the moment you’d finally wake up.
“Time?” Part of you didn’t want to get up. Part of you, the more persuasive part, wanted to remain tucked under Jungkook’s coat and slip back into a light sleep. If it weren’t for the hot drink waiting for you on the table then you would have done just that.
“Nine. A little later than yesterday.” You sat up eventually, wrapping the coat around you, and for a moment life was comfortable on the train. So much so that you didn’t mind how your hair was in complete disarray.
Jungkook enjoyed seeing you this way. When you had first woken up and didn’t wear the usual veil of detachment from the rest of the world. Your guard had surrendered to your sleep ridden body. He guessed very few people saw you like this, natural and raw and untouched by the pressure to be presentable, and counted himself lucky, just like you would say, to be one of those few.
“Thanks, again.” You said softly into the warm cup between sips. “How much?”
“No. It's okay.”
“But-”
“Seriously! Don’t mention it.” He was firm, but that didn’t stop the gentle smile that crept its way back onto his face. You didn’t know what to say other than the thanks you had already said, so you just kept drinking. It was still just as delicious, but today familiarity was peppered into the milk among the honey and cinnamon which gave it that much more reason to love it.
“You get up this early every day?” You asked, because you were at a loss for words but felt less comfortable without hearing his voice to accompany the brisk, quiet morning.
“Usually I do. I like the morning. It feels like I have the world to myself before everyone else wakes up.” Charming. It was the last thing that came to mind when you would picture Jungkook. Now, however, it seemed to be the only characteristic that came to mind when you thought of him.
Sitting in front of you, half mindedly scribbling notes onto the staff and half his attention expended on sharing the small ways he saw the world, he was just charming. As easily as he once drove a blunt edge of annoyance into your chest, he erased every bit of evidence that he could ever be anything but charming.
“Sorry to steal the morning from you. I gotta wake up sometime.” You felt entirely unpracticed in the realm of light, friendly conversations, and that was evident from the way you wanted to gag at your own response to his. What you thought was a tasteless, almost pathetic attempt at banter was, to Jungkook, another reason to enjoy the morning.
“I’m glad it’s you that I have to share it with.” Jungkook certainly sat higher on the hierarchical scale of wit compared to you, but even that didn’t agitate you in the way it would have before. What was more shocking than that was the fact that you felt the muscles in your cheeks changing your flat lipped expression into a smile.
“Flattery gets you nowhere, Jungkook.” You responded that way only to save face. It was a habit of yours you didn’t realize you were doing until the words had already been deployed by your tongue.
“It seems to have gotten me a smile from you. Those are hard to come by.” You jerked your head quickly over to him, the same grin stained with smugness there to meet your surprised ‘o’ shaped mouth.
He was right again. Your smiles have always been punctuated lately, but you were too busy paddling through every distraction available to even notice.
“Very funny.” Your voice was low enough for Jungkook to nearly miss it. Once the soft tone of your voice delivered to his ears, he looked away from his sheet music to mine through your face like a cavern, searching for the hidden bits of the treasure-like emotions strewn in along the subtle details.
“What’s wrong?” It was a leap of faith, his question, a leap that sent him plummeting blindly into the depths of everything he craved to know about you.
“That thing you said the other day.” Your expression was unreadable to the whole world. But inside the train, the whole world rested just on the other side of the window. There was no reason to come off as impassive, cold, or unconcerned, to care so much about trying not to care. “About going home.”
“Mhm?” You waited to see if he had anything to say, anything to stall what was about to escape from your lips. You knew it wouldn’t take long for your thoughts to go rogue, especially when he made you smile like that.
“I’m angry.” He gave you a look that said ‘no shit’ without having to actually say it. It made you nervous, but still willing to go on. “You're right. I didn’t visit home ever until now. I thought I grew out of it. I thought I became someone too big to fit in a town so small and stuck in its way. But I was never too big, I don’t think I ever actually grew. Because when I got the call, after stupidly ignoring it a hundred times before, I felt like the same child. So scared of the idea of a world without their mother. So, yeah, I’m angry. I’m angry I could be arrogant and stupid enough to think I could live the rest of my life never looking back.”
Jungkook just watched you, with those eyes that held the world. His eyes were holding so much right now when they were looking at you. So much weight from a source he couldn’t define with his own intuition. So much weight, he couldn’t understand how you had been shouldering it on your own this whole time, if he couldn’t stand a few minutes holding it now.
“Going back home.” You scoffed. “It's not about looking back. It was never about that. I think returning to something familiar is almost just as scary as fleeing somewhere new. All your past mistakes and demons that you have to face…”
“Demons. Is that any way to talk about your mother?” It was his way, unique to Jungkook alone, to litter in a bit of lighthearted teasing even when he was supposed to be serious. As if he couldn’t stand to let the air in Cart 102 become too damp with sadness, as if his heart wouldn’t have been able to handle it.
“I made a mistake. I spent too much time away, and now the last way I’ll see her is weak and sick. That’s my demon. My mom was just unfortunate enough to be the arbiter of it.”
Jungkook wanted to tell you that if he could, he would take all your pain away and send it back into the universe to find someone else to harbor it. Someone who deserved to feel a loss so heavy, because he knew just by looking at you that you deserved none of it. But he held his overly romantic tongue for now in regards to easing you into him smoothly. Since he had come such a long way with you, making gentle strides to win your affection, it would be greedy of him to tarnish that by saying something as outrageous as that, even if that was truly how he felt.
“Come with me. I have an idea.” It would have been easy to refuse him, to swat his hand away and never speak to him again for the rest of the train ride. But what prevails after the wear and tear of expecting the worst and knowing the painful and permanent scars it will leave you is the trust of someone who turned scowls into smiles, who held his hand out to you and waited for you to take it kindly.
Those tales they tell about feeling sparks when you make contact with your soulmate were decidedly wrong. Wrong to you, because when you touched Jungkook’s hand, you felt those sparks nestling under your skin and learning its way through the rest of your body. Wrong, because Jungkook was no soulmate of yours, just an unlikely stranger you met on a train once.
And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder, you couldn’t help but hope he too felt these sparks that supposedly meant nothing.
Jungkook pulled you into the hallway, which was brighter than the way it looked in your dreams. At the end of the walkway, there was no ghost resembling your mother, and the walls weren’t closing in, and instead of pushing through alone, you had Jungkook holding your hand tightly, and graciously guiding you down.
“This way.” He whispered, and you mimicked the stealth in his voice through the way you muffled the sound of your feet hitting the train floor, which felt less like water and more like sand with him; soft yet solid sand.
You arrived at an unattended area of the train. The only hint of what Jungkook was up to was that grin. That grin was too playful to be a grimace, and too mischievous to be a smile. That grin that you hadn’t noticed you were looking forward to seeing, the same one you could sense you would miss when the train arrived at its destination. That when he grinned, you finally found the courage to return it. Needing no conditions or second guesses, you were just you, somehow smiling on the train that was taking you to your sick mother. And it was all because of him and his stupid, lovely grin.
“What are you doing? Are we supposed to even be here?”
“Shh, we’ll get caught.” He began to wriggle with the door handle until it opened.
“So we’re not supposed to be here! Jungkook, let’s go before we get kicked off!” To silence you, he simply held his hand up. You pouted your lip but did as he commanded.
Inside the door, there was a collection of all the food meant for purchasing. Your assumption was confirmed that Jungkook had no intention of paying for the bags of pretzels and packets of cookies he was stuffing into his pockets. Hands full with quite the assortment of foods, he looked to you and raised his eyebrows.
“What?”
“Come on, put these in your pockets! Hurry.” He held the food out towards you. There was no convincing him to put all the stolen goods back, and there was no convincing yourself to not go along with his sinfully sweet plan.
The fast-paced walk back to Cart 102 was the most exhilarating thirty-five seconds of your life. Jungkook looked all too calm, like spontaneity fell into his hands naturally or like it was a birthright, belonging to his life from the beginning. Life with Jungkook, even if the short span of time he’d claimed part of yours was fleeting, was the most excited and fearless you had ever felt.
Jungkook and you emptied the haul of food onto the table. For a second, they went untouched only for the two of you to admire your successfully pirated goods. Then, for the first time on the train you met eyes with Jungkook and laughed.
It was the sort of laugh that exercised muscles in your abdomen you weren’t aware that you had in the first place. The kind that began at the top of a hill, and with one push it was tumbling faster and faster, growing louder and wilder.
Jungkook was laughing too, a sound which could qualify as the only competitor to surpass the beauty of his singing. And whatever music he was scribing onto the paper would have to be beyond masterful to sound anything close to as immaculate as his laugh.
“I can’t believe we just committed grand larceny.” The words came out of your throat between fits of laughter, eyes now with an abundance of happy tears.
“Woah there, “‘grand”’ is a stretch. I like to think of it as unlawful borrowing.” The rest of the afternoon was spent with celebratory feasting of your unlawfully borrowed goods. Your favorite was the packs of chocolate mints, and Jungkook had cleverly avoided eating them when he noticed how much you liked them.
When dawn arrived, Cart 102 settled into a comfortable silence, now consisting of you reading your book tempered by a glance out of the window every few pages and Jungkook tapping his pencil against the wooden desk while marking up every blank space on his page. To anyone else, including the likes of you, the page was nothing but a jumble of incoherent scribbles. To Jungkook, it was his next masterpiece; the best idea he made tangible on paper and hopefully soon, audible when someone agreed to commission it.
“Done!”
His remark startled you, being that there had been no warrant for him to exclaim his progress with the music he was working on. You chuckled softly, closing your book and looking back to Jungkook.
“Done with what?”
“This song. I know this one will sell. I just know it! It’s perfect.” Jungkook’s passion was bursting past the seams of his body. “I just wish… I wish I had more time.”
“What does that mean?” Again, all he offered was the same grin, and that was all you needed in order to know he wouldn’t be dropping any more hints on the account of your curiosity.
“It means this train ride is ending tomorrow, and I’ll have too much on my plate to work on anything else. So this right here,” He held up the paper with the same tact one would for a pile of pure gold, “Is my last chance to get my work out there for a while.”
For reasons born from an unidentifiable place, you felt like crying. Last chance. It sounded serious. Something you weren’t ready to know and something he wasn't ready to tell. So, instead of pestering the answer out of him, you let him have his secrets. You let him have all the secrets he had somehow gotten out of you.
And somehow, you were okay with it. Just this once.
Jungkook said he was taking a quick nap. Quick must mean something entirely different where he was from since it lasted about three hours and counting. For someone who had nothing to do but sit on a train all day, he sure was tired. It would have concerned you had it not been for witnessing how much energy he exerted into writing his music, as if each tap of his pencil required the same amount of energy as running an entire mile.
You were looking out of the window, which looked like it had been coated with tar. The departing sun left no remnants of its light and the moon must have been situated on the opposite side of the train, so it was up to the stars to illuminate your view of the world. But, outside the train was dark. Dark, and almost pitch black.
The first few specks were thought to be a hallucination that bloomed from your own wishful thinking. But soon, there were more and more twinkling lights dusting the sky and that outshined any doubt you had before. The stars were so bright and glimmering clearer than you had ever seen. Only something so beautiful, something that ingrained itself into the grooves of your brain to keep forever, could elicit the gasp that came louder than expected.
“Woah.” It jolted Jungkook awake and you would have felt bad if he weren’t already supplied with three and a half hours of extra sleep.
“What?” His voice was hoarse from being unused for such a long interval.
“The stars! I can see them! They’re so bright, Jungkook. So bright.” The tears began to form in part from the lack of blinking and in part from how happy you were to see the stars. The same stars your mother was probably looking at and the same ceiling of glitter that loomed protectively over you and Jungkook. They were more than just constellations tonight; they were a celestial map navigating you back home and an astronomical assurance that everything would be okay. Even if the worst happened, everything would be okay.
“They are. They’ve been bright for a while. It took you long enough to notice.” Your smile was not yours to control anymore. It was a small price to pay considering you had a world full of stars to last you a lifetime.
“I guess I haven’t been trying as hard to see them as I thought I was.”
And you turned to him, which was the only thing besides the starlit arena above you and Jungkook and the train you’d rather be looking at right now.
“I can’t wait to go home. I miss it so much.” It was the first time you said it out loud, as well as the first time you were able to admit that to yourself.
“I’m glad you feel that way. You should feel that way.”
“Thank you.”
There were a plethora of reasons that prompted that thank you. Far too many reasons that were decidedly unfit for just a single thank you. So, you concluded that the thank you was for Jungkook; for becoming a part of your life. For every decision he made on this train that rearranged your feelings towards him into something pleasant. Something that felt warm and safe.
Tonight, the last thing you saw before slipping away into sleep was all the stars that weren't at your disposal before. Every silvery diamond brandished along the expanding sky was so mesmerizing, you wished you could imprint them into the backs of your eyelids when they eventually lulled you into a calm slumber. That and the memory of Jungkook’s rendition of Dream a Little Dream of Me set on repeat in your head.
This time, you weren't trapped in the confines of a dark train hallway. You were standing in the middle of a grassy field, laden with a diverse collection of wildflowers. The mellow green hues seemed to lift from the blades of grass, stretching into the air around you.
And your mother was there. She wasn’t being blown away by the wind. Just like the sturdy trunk of a tree, she stood with dignity and conviction at the top of the highest hill that provided a view of your hometown; it was the most beautiful you had ever seen her.
“Mom!” The way you were running felt more like gliding, or flying even, because you moved through the wind without a bit of resistance. Your body was frictionless and unstoppable. And when you finally fell into your mother’s arms, it was the most freeing feeling in the world.
“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were going to leave me.” The blue sky that sealed you and your mom into the earth made a stunning partner for the fields of green underneath you.
“I’m always with you, darling.”
It was difficult to decide whether the sound of her voice or the sentiment behind it made you cry, so you decided not to decide at all, and instead, you simply let yourself cry. Everything was so beautiful, but still not complete.
“Mom, I feel like something’s missing.”
“There is.” She responded, but it wasn’t a question. Your mom was not your mom, just a figment herself cultivated by your own mind. She was one with you, and she knew exactly what was missing.
“Where do I find it?” Her hands cupped your cheeks, just like she would when you were young and crying over a scraped knee.
“You know, love. You know.”
The wind pulled a gentle melody from the spaces between the leaves. A melody you were quite familiar with and grew to love. It slowed, then everything was silent.
Day Three
Waking up came to you in a hurry, as if you shouldn’t spend another second living life through dreams because today was the last day on the train. The last day you’d spend with Jungkook, and possibly the last time you would ever see him.
It was uncharacteristic of you to feel this way. Disappointed at both yourself and your situation. You knew from the beginning that this was a temporary arrangement, and Jungkook was not a permanent fixture in your life. In fact, you used to be thankful for those circumstances because you hated Jungkook.
But, of course, you went ahead and let him in. You let him buy you tasty drinks, hold you during thunderstorms, and offer you a coat, a smile, a laugh when everything felt cold. You let him ripple currents of fun into your life, but that would be giving yourself too much credit, you suppose.
Because it was never a matter of allowing him to do any of this. He did all of those things, and more, all by himself.
What was even more uncharacteristic of you was greeting the early morning before Jungkook. He was sound asleep, with skin being lightly freckled by the glints of sunlight shimmering through the gaps in the clouds. The morning sun was always docile, kindly shedding light in a way that wouldn’t pull sweat from your skin like it did in the afternoon.
You liked the sight of him sleeping, mostly because it was one of the few moments of the day when he was completely silent, and those were rare.
“Better take this opportunity.” You whispered to yourself before getting up, covering Jungkook with the coat, and heading to the concession stand you had raided with Jungkook yesterday.
Wondering if the workers noticed the missing inventory, you idled by the counter before ordering but they all looked too tired to care to serve you let alone realize a quarter of the chocolate mint packs were taken.
“Hi, two warm milks with honey and cinnamon please.” The attendant seemed to appreciate how closely your voice was to a whisper. He sluggishly poured two steaming cups of milk and sleeved them before exchanging them for the money already placed onto the counter.
“Honey and cinnamon are over at the self-serving station.” You followed to where his finger was aimed towards and nodded politely with the two cups in each hand.
You didn’t know why, but imagining Jungkook making this drink himself, instead of ordering it premade, ranked this act as something more motivated than customary kindness. Because getting these drinks wasn’t simply walking to a stand, purchasing, and walking back to Cart 102. There was now an erroneous step you hadn’t accounted for. The act of making milk with honey and cinnamon.
As you scooped a spoonful of honey to mix into the creamy liquid, one of your mother’s many proverbs rang in your ears, as if she was standing right beside you saying it.
“When you make food for someone, it’s just another way to express that you love them!”
It froze you for a second. Recalling what she would say when you would throw together a meal for the pair of you when she was too tired to. She worked so hard as a single mother, so every shortcoming felt like a colossal failure, no matter how little it mattered to you. And she would always say that to you because ‘thank you’ just didn’t cut it.
This was the first thing you made for someone other than your mother and yourself. But, there’s no way it was because you loved him.
Just this once, you thought. Just this once I’ll make food for someone that I don’t love.
You were relieved to greet a still sleeping Jungkook when you returned to your cart. The cart you studied closer, because you were about to leave it and wanted to retain all the details that you could before it became a memory you would only visit when you were feeling reminiscent.
The beige walls, the small table where you would read and Jungkook would compose, the stiff leather seats that you had surprisingly gotten used to, and the large window that gave you a glimpse of the blurry world waiting for you.
Jungkook’s groan snapped you out of your trance. Before he regained full cognizance, you placed the cup in front of him so you’d be able to boast that you had woken up before him and had the morning all to yourself for a moment. That now you were the one sharing the world with him.
“What’s this?” He said groggily.
“You know.” You tried your best to mirror his smugness, the way he would sip his drink after sending a witty one-liner through the air like it was no big deal to him.
Before you became lost in the person you changed into with Jungkook, a person that felt more like a fun costume to wear when you didn’t feel like being yourself anymore, the more neurotic and controlling part of you fell back through when you remembered that the measurements of the ingredients might have been off.
Maybe you had gotten the drink entirely wrong, so your deed would shrivel down to a failed act of kindness. Nothing at all your mother would consider a gesture of love. And that was more frightening than any blast of thunder.
“It's delicious.” Jungkook said out of nowhere, almost as though he knew he was interrupting your thoughts. Breaking them down into a powder thinner than flour, so he could blow all your worries away with one puff of air. He wasn’t lying either, it was delicious.
You spent a gracious amount of time and energy avoiding the book you were meant to finish during this train ride. Instead, your efforts were fully consumed by the last person you thought would ever be the center of your attention. At least, you thought if he were going to be the focus of it, then it would have been because you were mentally berating him for reasons that didn’t bother you much at all anymore; in fact, they started becoming admirable.
“If you could run faster than a train, where would you go?” He asked.
“Paris. Or Italy. I'd just have to figure out how to run on water.” You earned a good laugh from Jungkook with that comment. And finally, you felt like you were beginning to find your niche in conversations, and it relied heavily on sarcasm.
“I’d love to see the day when ___ walks on water.”
“What about you? Where would you go?”
“I would make my legs take me straight to Carnegie Hall and force the organization to play one of my pieces.” Each word was formed by his tongue as if he had that response rehearsed a hundred times over. Jungkook knew exactly what he wanted, and given the chance, he would use any and every asset to get him there.
That alone was why you fell into something deeper than attraction. Why you began to take notice of things about him that weren’t of importance before. And why your intentions to observe how the world designed this man to be so stunningly unique was less cryptic than you’d hoped.
Maybe if you noticed how his white button-up was undone down to his sternum and tucked into the waistband of his slacks tastefully, then your heart would have taken a quicker pace long before now. If you noticed how his jet black hair was gentle and fluffy when it draped over his eyes, then you would have been frustrated with yourself sooner for not seizing the chance to introduce your fingers to its texture. And if you noticed how the ridges along his palm looked perfect to be held in, then you would have savored every second he held you the night of the storm. There was an astonishing number of details about Jungkook, about as many as the stars in the sky, that would have made you mountains more intimidated to even speak with him.
One of the attendants left all your observations of Jungkook scattered when she peaked her head through to give the two of you an update on your arrival.
“Looks like we’ll be getting in earlier than expected!” In theory, that was a blessing. You’d get to finally deboard the train and be with your mother. Though, you’d be lying if some piece of you wanted this train to continue west until there was no more land to travel on; and if you could, you would redistribute each part of this train to assemble a boat, so you could sail Jungkook across the seven seas. “Our arrival will be in twenty minutes! I hope you both enjoyed your trip.”
And if Jungkook felt the same way, he didn’t show it through his polite smile and nod at the attendant.
“We’ll be getting off soon.” He said to you, though you could tell it was his way of interrogating your thoughts on the matter.
“Time moved by so oddly on the train. I didn’t even notice it was already day three.” You paused and took one last glance out of the window. “Funny.”
"It's funny,” He began, and you settled into what you knew was about to be another piece of Jungkook's mind served in the form of his delicate words, “when you're inside a train you don't feel like you're moving. Even though you are, of course. You're moving faster than you would outside of a train. But we feel like we are still because we are moving with the train. When you're in a train, you are moving with time too, so it feels rushed and stagnant all at once. When you're not inside, time moves past you. It feels better to move with time, don’t you think? It feels like you could outrun it if you wanted to, or it feels like you will never run out of time at all. That you and time are equals. But soon, we'll have to get back onto the platform, and time will move past us again, and it’ll feel like we’re running out already."
“You’re right.” You finally admitted. “We’re running out of time.”
We’re running out of time— together, you wanted to say. However, courage and boldness was a currency you weren’t rich in. Unspoken desires and lost hopes were all you had left to tender.
“Yeah, I guess so. Hey, I-” He hesitated as well, because when you looked at him with such wishful eyes, it made what he had to say entirely too real and all too scary. “I really liked being your travel buddy.”
You could tell he was holding back too. That everything you wanted to say to him and everything he wanted to say to you wasn’t meant to be translated into words, that exchanging sentimental smiles was all you and he could afford. Instead, it was better to exist through the language of emotions, floating around the train, moving with time, and eventually, when you and Jungkook returned to the world, those emotions would remain with the train and travel beyond your destination.
That’s why you let them go. Sometimes, a train is only meant to be a train.
“Me too. Though, I have to admit I hated you at first.”
“I know.” He grinned as you etched the most accurate memory of it in your brain as you could.
His stance came unprecedented. The small radio tucked in his bag now sitting on the table, serenading an unfamiliar melody and overtaking the silent air inside Cart 102. Then, came his hand, extended to you just like he had yesterday. Only this time, you didn’t need to wonder what he wanted from you because you would give whatever he asked.
You took his hand, or rather you gave him yours, and followed his gentle tug until it led you to his body, pressing away all the space once separating the two of you. Jungkook’s hand followed the curve of your waist until it landed at the small of your back while you instinctively rested yours on his shoulder.
You and Jungkook swayed to the music until all those words about moving with time became real. The way he held you close had you immune to the passage of time. The soft brush of his breath against your cheek felt welcoming, and you would try your very best to remember the way existing felt when your skin was touching his. It was odd, dancing on a train with someone you didn’t know well enough to call a friend but weren’t estranged enough to call an acquaintance. Again, it felt like you were in between two walls, stuck, trying to out-think your way through a collapsing maze of judgement.
Though, no matter how odd it was, it stopped neither you nor Jungkook from holding onto each other for the last few moments available.
The train must have hit a rock, one you would like to thank because it knocked the two of you over until you had fallen into his lap, laughing so hard your bodies shook. You would have been uncomfortable in this compromising position if not for the sense of belonging fostered in the empty space in your chest while being in his arms.
Jungkook didn’t notice you were detangling your limbs from his until you were already gone, seated across from him in the same spot.
Once, he learned in science class of this phenomenon called ‘afterimage’, which is when your eyes get so accustomed to staring at one particular thing that when you look away, the thing stained your vision in the form of a silhouette, like an echo of something your eyes grew so comfortable seeing that it stayed with you, even when you looked away.
And he knew, even when the view of you sitting across from him in this train wasn’t there anymore, he would carry that afterimage of you, always echoing in his vision like a beautiful melody he couldn’t get out of his head. Not that he wanted to let go anyway
It was sour, the cruelty of letting go. When the train began to brake, it felt like a lifetime of agony. A bitter, unforgiving slap in the face courtesy of the confines of reality, stealing you away from the shelter of a train; a place that made it so easy to be swept up in something as dazzling and impossible as magic. You were onto important things, you knew this, but it was nice to live, even if it were just for a bit, inside something as magical as Cart 102, where you could count on a generous supply of warm coats, milk with honey and cinnamon, and Jungkook.
“Well, our stop is here. Hey, how about we share a cab? Why not save some money, right?” You could only nod, because speaking would have led to tears, which would have led to a failed explanation of why you were crying.
Jungkook hailed the yellow vehicle over, the opening of his shirt widened just an inch too much to let your mind wander.
“You’re going to the hospital, right?” He asked.
“Yeah, the only one in town.” You said, knowing the driver wouldn’t need any more specifics than that. This town was so small there were a lot of singular facilities that made the layout equally difficult to be crammed into and easy to memorize. One library, one park, one church, and one hospital.
As Jungkook went to give the driver your destinations, you packed up the luggage into the trunk. Not too long after, you were side by side in the back of a cab. All you could bring yourself to do was gaze out of the window and watch all the familiar scenes of your hometown pass by, each landmark dousing you with a strong presence of nostalgia.
No matter how sad parting ways with Jungkook was, it was good to be home.
The cab finally arrived at the hospital, and you got out not expecting the other person in the car to get out with you. Perhaps he was being polite and saying goodbye. You knew you would have done the same if his stop preceded yours.
The two of you stood in front of the entrance, gawking up at the tall building that was in desperate need of reconstruction. You turned your gaze over to Jungkook.
“Where to now, Mr. Jeon?” You asked, since this town was small enough, and you were fluent in every secret hiding spot it had to offer, you might be able to visit him if that wouldn’t come off as too invasive.
“I'm here.” He responded just as ambiguously and ever so matter-of-factly as always. This time, you demanded to know more.
“What? What do you mean?”
“It took a long time to find a doctor that specializes in my condition.” Jungkook finally turned to you, his eyes crowded by tears. “My heart is weak, ___. I came here to get better, and hopefully, I do. I'm going to be a famous composer one day, and I’ll need a strong heart to get me to that point.”
You felt angry at him again. For not telling you, because it felt less like keeping something from you and more like lying to you. For telling you, and making it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, that it wouldn’t break your heart into pieces weaker than his own.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was the harsh snap he expected from you, but he was committed to keeping this a secret until he couldn’t because it was easier that way.
“I didn’t want to admit it. I’m scared, ___. Really scared. If I don't get better…”
“Well, you have to! Carnegie Hall is waiting for you and I didn’t waste my time getting to know you for nothing. So, you just go ahead and get better okay?” Your words were coated in anger but layered on top of something compassionate, sweet even. Sweeter than milk, honey, and cinnamon.
“I’ll try.” He grinned again, knowing it would satisfy you for the time being. Grinning, like a goodbye gift.
“You’re an idiot, Jungkook.”
Before you could lose the last word, you gripped your luggage in one hand, the pillow in the other, and made your way into the hospital, leading to what you knew would be countless nights spent at the side of a hospital bed, eating foods you’d rather not eat, and watching daytime cable while taking care of your mother.
What you didn’t know was that a good portion of those nights would be spent with someone else. Someone who resided in the west wing of the hospital.
Someone who would bring your hand to his heart, and ask you if it felt stronger, and you would always reply with ‘yes’, or ‘yes, you idiot’, even when you were terrified that one day your hand wouldn’t feel the tap of his heart against his chest. Someone who would sing to you in exchange for the times you would read to him. Someone who you would leave notes and small gifts for, his personal favorite being the packet of walnuts accompanied with a folded paper inscribed ‘for when you need to get out of class’. Someone who, when he would be having a particularly difficult night, you’d fall asleep holding hands with, and you’d wake him up with a warm cup of his signature beverage.
Someone you would inevitably begin to fall in love with.
A month later, one of two people you loved dearly would walk out with you through those hospital doors. That person was Jungkook. And the melancholy of losing your mother to the battle between her and her cancer would also follow you, and stay with you almost as long as Jungkook had.
A year later, you would return, hand in hand with Jungkook. Every two months. It was the promise you sealed onto your mother's gravestone that you would always return every two months. Even if the weather dispatched the most terrifying thunderstorms, or your work piled a stack of paperwork high enough to reach the sky, you’d still return home.
You and Jungkook placed a bundle of wildflowers you picked on the way to her grave, sitting at the top of a grassy highland, at the base of the granite stone. She was overlooking the world, with a perfect view of you; it made you feel safe that she was watching over you, and she was watching over Jungkook and his slowly recovering heart.
The weather was perfect. The sun blanketed everything beneath it with a generous warmth but didn't restrict the gentle breeze from tempering it. The leaves and grass moved with the wind, but your mother’s tombstone was strong and unmoving, losing no part of herself to the fluid motions of the spring air.
“I kind of like it here.” He said softly, adorning the view of the hilltop with you. It was the morning, and it didn’t feel like he was sharing the world with you anymore. It felt like it was yours to begin with, and he was just lucky enough to be allowed a part of it.
“Me too.” One hand was with Jungkook, and the other was with your mother.
“I think it would be a nice place to get married and raise our children. You know, after I become a world-renowned composer and all.” This would have shocked you if you had not been wishing to hear him confirm these dreams of yours for a while now. “Did that scare you? I didn’t mean to be too forward.”
“No, I think this would be the perfect place to live. Only if it's with you.” Because you knew, something was missing here without him. He made this hometown of yours finally complete in the wake of your mother’s passing.
When you kissed him, he tasted like honey. And he would have told you that you tasted like cinnamon.
It could never scare you, because you were in love.
You were in a debt of gratitude that was deeper than the ocean. There was so much you wanted to say to him.
The town is milk. It is up to you and me, Jungkook, to provide the ingredients that will liven this town of milk into something sweeter, something survivable, something that will continue to sustain a force as powerful as love. Without the honey and cinnamon, all you have is milk. It seems we are the perfect blend of the two to make this bitter place palatable when it hits our tongues. This town needs us together in the same way milk needs honey and cinnamon.
You didn’t say any of those words out loud. You didn’t need to. All you needed to say was:
“I love you.”
And all he needed to say was:
“I love you too.”
#bangtanarmynet#ficswithluv#btsgoldnet#bts fanfic#bts one shot#bts writing#bts fluff#bts x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook one shot#jungkook fluff#bts enemies to lovers#musician!jungkook#of honey and cinnamon#rubycoast
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Easier to stay, easier to go
Soobin x Reader | Drabble | Angst
Warning/s: None.
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It was about time that you finally got back.
You were back again at your same old, worn out apartment where the lights are dim and flickering every moment, where the ceilings are full of dust and cracks, walls with paint flaking out of the surface and a fairly clean space.
The place isn’t exactly what you could call home, but you figured that it’ll do as a roof above your head. It has never been one anyway, constant fights and heated arguments occured every now and then, words being thrown at each other were much like gun firing bullets, piercing deep within flesh. Either it ends badly—with the neighbors banging against your thin walls because of the noise—or, one would leave the place and then come back after some time.
In this case, it was you who left with a heavy heart, clouded mind and a tear-stained face. Coming back at that same place felt like it was years since you have stayed there that standing inside seemed that a wash of nostalgia suddenly hit you, and it was not the good kind.
Your reminiscence with the rest of the previous events before you walked out of the apartment was broken by lazy footsteps that trudged upon the floor. The owner of those feet was met by your figure right by the doorstep, standing meekly and not knowing what to do. Usually, when one comes back after the fight, the other would come towards them with guilt written on their face and arms spread wide to engulf them in a tight hug. They’d be worried sick and would inspect thoroughly to check the other isn’t hurt, before coming for another embrace that would melt their worries away.
But there was none of that right now.
After Soobin saw your form and seemed to only spare just a glance at you, he went back to the kitchen right where he have been for the past few hours. There were no signs of recognition, no hugs, no whispers of apologies and sweet, hushed phrases to make up for the dispute that had broken out between the two of you. He just left you there like your presence was not much of a big deal for him, like your presence was not there at all and that you haven’t been gone for almost a week or two prior.
And somewhere within your heart hurt like it was squeezed to death. This was the first time he had done something like that; feigned ignorance and just simply moving on to continue on his dull and gloomy day. This was not the Soobin you knew, and the fight was yet to be over and done with.
As you approached the kitchen, sounds of cluttering dishes and utensils were heard along with the sound of the running tap water by the sink. Soobin’s back was facing you as he washed used plates and empty glasses in absolute silence. Empty soju bottles were beside him, maybe 5 to 7 bottles that were drank on different days considering that he doesn’t have such high alcohol tolerance to down them in just one go.
The mere thought have made you uneasy. Soobin was never a drinker. You know him too well to tell that he would rather discuss the problem than resorting to drinking and downing shots after shots, drowning his bladder with the alcoholic substance. However, as the months went by, he was pushed to a point where he had to raise his voice and so were you, until it became words that you never thought would ever leave your own mouth or his. Time changed you both, from two people who cherished each other to mere and total strangers who couldn’t care less with who was bound to get hurt. And you knew that from the recent fight that happened, it was your fault. Anger was what blinded and fueled you to say such things that hurt Soobin deeply.
As a way of showing how terribly sorry you were for leaving him that night, you made your way towards the tall male and slowly brought your arms to wrap around his torso from behind him.
He paused. You felt as though he was not finding any comfort from your affection no matter how you tried to convey your unspoken words of apology and regret, and that didn’t make things hurt less. It was blatantly wrong to always brush off the problems and you were silently admitting to yourself that things have gone way too overboard. It was that or there was something more that you have to be sorry for that you couldn’t just get off your chest. At the back of your mind, you knew you owe him a big apology.
The moment the last plate was placed aside to dry off, Soobin detached your arms from him. You stood there watching him go around the room, grabbing his own jacket and ruffling his hair as if to slightly disarrange it. You panicked. It was at that point that you reached out to him, finding yourself bolting towards the door to block his way and stop him from leaving.
“Soobin, I want to talk with you, please.”
He gave you a look, one that was quite unreadable as his eyes lingered on you. How he managed to stare at you for a little longer than he would have liked was a question he could not find an answer to. He was supposed to be mad at you, he was supposed to resent you as if your entire being chokes him to the point that he would want to leave immediately. Instead, he did not feel such emotions towards you as your eyes pleaded him to stay.
With that, his gaze gradually softened, in which he tried to hide under his dark fringes that were slightly covering his vision. He didn’t want for you to see him hesitating, he didn’t want you to know that you and your dewy eyes had that effect on him. It was enough to make him stay easily just as how it was easy for you to leave him once and every time that you two fight.
How did the both of you reach this point?
“Soobin...I, I know you’re mad at me for leaving– for all of the things that I've said that night. I didn’t—I didn’t mean any of those, Soobin, please believe me,” you muttered, forcing to swallow down the sobs that lodged itself inside your throat. Your heart were shaken by the tremors, fearing that your words had fallen upon deaf ears.
“Just let me leave, Y/N—”
“No, no please,” a whimper escaped your lips as you desperately attached yourself to Soobin, clinging onto him for your dear life with tears soaking right through his shirt, “Let’s not do this anymore, let’s fix this...”
“This is beyond repair, Y/N,” his eyes locked on to yours, holding your shoulders back, “this isn’t something that you could just mend and patch up so easily.
Not when you’ve already involved someone else when it's supposed to be just you and me.”
With his words, your eyes reflected confusion. Soobin mistook it for something else, that perhaps you were acting dumb in front of him, acting as if what he said wasn’t true, or if you were truly and genuinely confused just as a tiny part of him was—he honestly didn't know, because how could he still trust you after what happened? How will he believe you without any doubt creeping and lurking at the back of his mind?
“The night you left—the night when I was insisting for us to just sit down and talk things like rational alduts because I was so tired of arguing, the night when you were so full of your pent-up anger and I was ready to apologize even though you’ve hurt me with the things you said—I dashed out to find you. I didn’t stop searching, I didn’t waste a second in hopes that if I looked hard enough, I’ll soon find you.”
A wry laugh escaped his mouth, a poor attempt of masking how he was slowly breaking in front of you. Tears were brimming at his eyelids, pain flashing within his pool of dark irises. Remembering what he saw that time was a stab through his heart, a gut-wrenching pain as he tried his hardest to suppress his surging emotions—he has had enough. A whole week or two was enough for him to dwell deeper on it.
“But then—” he choked on a sob, “—I saw you with someone else. I saw you with him, Y/N.”
Memories of that moment came rushing inside your head. You were taken back to that Thursday night with Taehyun, sitting upon the stool of some small stand right by the street, leaning in slowly close to you. With one last look through your eyes—soft and gentle, a thing you were uncertain if it was because of his tipsy state or if it was true and genuine—he closed the gap, allowing both of your lips to touch each other's as your eyes then fluttered shut.
You stood there dazed as it played over and over again, staring blankly at the male that has now allowed his tears to cascade down his cheeks. Your grip tightened desperately, knowing what was going on inside Soobin’s head. You tried to formulate something, anything, but alas, your words got caught up in your throat and your mind went completely blank. Now, he knew your secret that’s been haunting you ever since it happened, a reason why you never came back for days straight while Soobin was left alone to worry over you. To contemplate about things, to decide that it’s finally time to leave, and how things would be much easier for him to stop dealing with what’s hurting him.
In just a blink of an eye, you’re about to lose something good that has happened in your life.
Seconds were now dragging into minutes and as silence still remained, Soobin was already tugging at your hands to pry them off of his jacket. It was hard to commit such action as he finally had you within his reach, yet he still chose to push you away despite his heart telling him to pull you close. It was a hard thing to do, but with the given circumstance, it was either he stay just like the fool that he is, or he goes.
And he chose the latter, something that you’re finding very hard to believe, something that you’re not allowing for it to happen. So you went with what your mind commanded you to do, as fast as you could, not long after the male had taken a few feet away from you. You kissed him, tiptoeing just so you could reach for his lips, molding them together as you cupped his cheeks eagerly. Your movements were a bit rushed, but there was the pressure to it, afraid that if you were to let a distance slip in, he would pull away so quickly out from your grasp.
Soobin, on the other hand, was left there standing idly. A warm tug at his chest presented itself as he felt your lips on his own, bringing back memories of the days where nothing went wrong, where it’s just only bliss and contentment, smiles and laughters. He missed it, basking in the feeling of having you close like this, pressed on to him without the need to let go; just the warm, fuzzy jitters as he gets lost by the fervent gliding of your lips.
His mind then began begging—screaming for him to push you away, to stop what you were doing to him as to also stop himself from letting you in again, to stop being frail and weak with just a mere kiss. But his heart, it never forgets. It only wants more, longing and yearning for more than what he have hoped and wished for and it was this moment. The day he has you in his arms once again, just as where you should be.
Before he could even process what he was doing, his hands have already pushed you by the wall and he responded with such passion that he could not hold back. Soobin moved his lips along with yours, catching up with the pace and rhythm of it. It all came back to him, the memories he thought that he have already forgotten—how soft the texture your lips felt on his and how you tasted like peach and vanilla on a hot Summer day, something that he could never resist. You tasted like the sweet first love that has struck him, you tasted like the fresh first drink of water that had replenished his parched throat...and yet somewhere in between, it changes.
What started as sweet, blooming love morphed into a bittersweet reality. And then he remembers, these were the pair of lips that touched another, and that you tasted like infidelity.
With a parting sob after he disconnects his lips from your own, Soobin leaned his forehead on yours. With this proximity, you could finally see the details on his face better than before—his thick, well-accentuated brows knitted together, his long and damped lashes, his porcelain soft cheeks, his lower lip that was jutting out and quivers so slightly. The image broke you—a visage etched with pain and misery this relationship has put him through—a reminder that this was what you have caused him.
You’ve hurt him severely, a deep cut that would surely leave a scar, uncertain if it will ever heal and stop from bleeding.
Why does it have to come to this?
“I’m sorry...I’m really sorry, Soobin...I’m so, so sorry...”
And just then, Soobin asked himself: why is it still easy for him to stay?
#txt scenarios#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#soobin imagines#soobin scenarios#txt reactions#kpop reactions#soobin reactions#angst#txt#txt imagines#txt imagine#txt soobin#txt fanfic#txt angst#soobin angst#txt choi soobin#choi soobin#soobin
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Story Time
WARNING: fluff, cute, angst, awkward, alcohol, stranger meets stranger
Character: Pedro Pascal
Wordcount: 1.8K
Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.
Divider by me! 😊
Oh god, please let me know what you think of this. The way of telling it is new to me, but I kind of liked the flow of it. Keep in mind this is told in a vocal language as if I actually tell it to you. Let me know if you liked it or not, any feedback on this is very much welcome.
Okay, let me tell you about the first time I met Pedro Pascal. This was (I believe) right before shooting of GOT season 4. I was, at the time, not a huge TV or movie person, except I actually did watch GOT because it was so huge and my friends kinda got me in to it. And I also watched Breaking Bad, because let’s face it, it’s a brilliant series. Anyways, here is the story of my embarrassing first meeting with Pedro Pascal.
It was a late night in New York. I had been to a comedy club with some friends of mine; laughing our asses off and drinking. Not gonna lie, I don’t remember the comedian (sorry), but I do remember he wore the cleanest pair of white Converse shoes I’ve ever seen on a person. I don't know why I remember that, but yeah.
Now, I had told my friends I would walk home, as I only lived a few blocks down the road. They had insisted on me taking a taxi with them, but I refused. Honestly, I didn't want to waste money on it and I had walked home alone before. Being the stubborn woman I was, they gave up and let me walk. Besides, I sober faster up and avoid a hangover with some fresh air before bed (or at least as fresh air one can get in NYC).
Walking home, I stumbled a little on the slightly uneven sidewalk.
Now let me point out that I am not drunk. I am however tipsy, but not so gone that I am not aware of my surroundings. If someone was to walk up to me, I could easily punch them and run off, if necessary. But I would run with a slight tilt, if you know what I mean. Not that I actually want to punch someone, because I am honestly scared of hurting anyone (raise your hand if you have childhood trauma), but I will for survival.
Anyways. Walking home, the nightlife was booming. I think it was about nine in the evening, so the streets were littered with people either already drunk or going to the club getting drunk. Basically a normal Saturday evening. I did not envy the people bending over a bush, begging for nothing to splash back onto them as they puked their guts out, just to go back into the club and start the process all over again.
Being a woman walking alone that late, in NYC anywhere, you can already imagine the disgusting men catcalling me, throwing comments thinking I would rush to them and beg them to take me then and there.
It honestly baffles me how men actually think those kinds of things work, because newsflash, it doesn't. It's literally disgusting and I have to force myself to not gag and throw up.
So walking home, ignoring the nauseating comments, I passed by the same buildings, stores, clubs and restaurants I had done probably a million times before. I did consider stopping by my favourite burger shop Greasy Joe’s (classic name, am I rite?), but knew my body rather wanted to crash down in bed.
As I was just about two blocks away from my home, I managed to trip on my own feet.
Now I am not a person who often trip over or stumble at all, but for some godforsaken reason, my feet decided that, right outside - what I would call an exclusive restaurant - (mostly because it was too expensive for mere mortals to eat there) I fell to my knees, luckily embracing myself on my hands.
For a moment I froze, my body trying to assess what happened and what the damage was. I remember it felt like needles prickling into the palms of my hands and on my knees. I was just begging I didn’t ruin my jeans as I had recently purchased them. (Jeans are seriously expensive, especially when you are gifted with thighs of a goddess, ready to crush anything coming in-between)
I also remember it felt like the whole world went silent for a moment, as if my hearing was not important as my brain was trying hard to get an overview of my own state.
I heard a male mumble and then a hand appearing in front of my face. Then a little more mumbling until I finally caught some words. “... Help you up.” I instinctively grabbed the hand, supporting myself as it pulled me up.
And again, my legs wanted to be difficult tonight for some reason, so of course my knees gave in - not sure if it was because of the fall or if I just truly had bad fortune that night, or perhaps that I was in fact, more than just tipsy - and I tumbled forward and smacked my head onto what I didn’t realise at first, was a human chest.
I placed my hands onto the torso and carefully pushed back awkwardly. I stared at my hands as I realised what I was pushing against and winced and snapped my hands away from the person in front of me.
I felt my ears and cheeks burn, I mean like, seriously burn so badly it felt like a second degree burn. I looked up to - what I quickly realised was - a man’s face and he seemed to be a bit embarrassed as well, as he was also coloured in his cheeks (definitely not as bad as mine though)
I didn’t recognise him at all, but you can already guess who the person was (Yup, Pedro himself).
What really caught me off guard was his eyes. They were so dark I could actually see my reflection in them. There was also a spark in them due to the yellow lights emitting from the restaurant he had apparently just exited.
We were both kind of frozen and embarrassed and my brain was not going to help me even form a single “thank you” and or “sorry”. Luckily, his brain was working better than mine, so he was the one to speak up first.
“That was quite the fall, are you alright?” He actually seemed worry for my little tumble. I hadn’t even hit my head and he looked down upon me as if I was a hurt child.
I said of course I was fine, I wasn’t really hurt and that I was just on my way home. He asked if I needed a taxi, but of course I didn’t need that, I was just two blocks away from my home, so I politely refused.
He asked if he could escort me the rest of the way, but I told him no, because he was a stranger, but not only a stranger, but a male stranger. He really didn’t want me to walk home alone, but he understood my point of view. He insisted on calling for a taxi, but I told him it would be a waste, as it would probably take longer for the taxi to arrive than me just walking straight home.
As I explained this, I was already kind of backing away from him and towards home. He didn’t push it any further, but I swear I could feel him watch me as I continued to walk away.
However, two doors down, was one of the hottest nightclubs in NYC. Mostly higher middle-class and lower high-class would go there. Especially “kids” with their parents credit cards would go there frequently. (Now I use the word kid, even though they are probably in their early twenties and I am in my mid twenties, but to me, kids because of their behaviour)
As I passed, a self entitled kid with too much alcohol and self esteem approached me - I could smell the alcohol before he reached me - and stopped me in my tracks. I fisted my hands as he tried to push himself onto me, which was quite disgusting by the way. His perfume were oozing off him, and that mixed with the alcohol was making me gag.
He kept asking for my name, if I was down for a good time, if he could buy me a drink, if I wanted to come into the club with him, if he could have my number, if I wanted to go home with him and so on and so forth. I gently pushed him away, which seemed to set something off in him and he began spitting rude comments. Mostly stuff I had heard before come out of a rejected man’s mouth; so nothing new.
He began walking quite widely and wobbly towards me, as if he wanted to pick a fight me. However, half way towards me, he suddenly stopped and I noticed a presence next to me.
You guessed it, it was Pedro again.
He asked the man to stop and waved over the security guard who somehow missed the loud kid.
As soon as the kid was forced away by the guard, I thanked him once more. He turned to walk away, but I called for him (I didn’t know his name, so I casually just said “Hey!”) He turned around and I told him he could walk me home if the offer still stood.
I remember a smile crossed his lips as I told him and he jogged over to me before we strolled towards my block.
As we began our walk, he held out his hand to me and introduced himself and I shook it and told him my first name as well. Now, instead of talking about our jobs or family or whatever, we actually started talking about African animals, more specifically Elephants as we both considered them our favourite animal. We also had a friendly feud about coffee or tea, as I was (and still am) a tea drinker and he was a coffee drinker.
We were in the middle of talking books when I suddenly realised we were standing outside the entrance to my apartment building.
I'm not gonna lie, I was actually feeling a bit disappointed by this, as I had enjoyed our brief walk and conversation. A small part of me wanted to invite him in, just so we could continue our chat. I felt such a friendly vibe from him and knew if I didn’t get to know him now, I would probably never get to.
I had to, unfortunately, decide to end the journey here and smiled while thanking him. What I didn’t realise was my body slowly tilting forward and before I knew it, we were hugging each other. I had no idea why, but I sure as hell didn’t regret it.
Let me tell you, I have never, ever ever since, had a better or warmer hug ever. I seriously mean it, if you ever get the chance to hug this man, do it, because not only will it make you warm and fuzzy, but it seriously made me happy. Like I could feel the weight of the world seep out of my body and a light just burn within me. I am not kidding.
So we said our goodbyes. I unlocked the entrance door, stepped inside and we gave each other one last glance before I walked up the stairs to my floor.
What I didn’t know then, was that I would meet Pedro Pascal again.
(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)
@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80
#Pedro Pascal#first person pov#first person perspective#story time#writing#fluff#embarrassing#awkward#rpf
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⇢ fandom: daiya no ace ⇢ pairing: miyuki kazuya x f!reader ⇢ genre: angst ⇢ warning/tags: exes to friends to lovers, so much angst it’s ridiculous, angst w/ hopeful ending, mild language, pining, coffeeshop!au basically, pro player!miyuki
⇢ summary: you met him at the wrong time of your life, yet fate has awarded you a second chance to fall in love with him once again. ⇢ word count: approx. 3k
⇢ a/n: let me tell you, being hit with a massive wave of insecurity about your writing through the week you post the most is not fun but like yooo here we are. This is Day 3, and I hope you enjoy it! I’m not too happy with how this came out, but I do hope it reads well for you guys.
⤆ Back to Week of Fic’s Masterlist
It’s hard to recall the moment you first fell in love with Miyuki Kazuya.
You were young, in your teens, navigating through highschool in the best way possible. He was just a mutual friend of yours; someone to just say ‘hey’ to when you spoke to Kuramochi. You couldn’t quite remember what led to the two of you hanging out more and eventually going on a few dates, but you clearly remembered the emotions he elicited from you.
Being with him made all your problems fade to the background, it made you feel, believe, that you were on top of the world. Being in love with Miyuki Kazuya was an experience like no other. Yet, you weren’t his first love. You didn’t hold his heart like he did yours, and eventually the dates faded. He stopped making time for you, and you stopped pushing to be a part of his life. In hindsight, your issues could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation, but both of you were young.
So, instead of soft words explaining how neglected you felt, your feelings exploded into hurtful, sharp phrases that led to the demise of your relationship. Gone were the lingering touches in the hallways, the soft good luck kisses before a game, the playful teasing remarks between the two of you. He’d faded into a stranger, and when the both of you graduated high school, you stopped seeing him all together.
There were nights you would replay your relationship in your mind, you would linger on your regret of never mending the bridge between the two of you, because him leaving your life left a slight hole in your heart. Yet, the loudest part in your brain never failed to remind you that communication was a two way street, and that if he truly loved you, he would’ve fought for your relationship.
But that loud part of your brain didn’t stop you from scrolling though his Instagram feed in the late hours of the night. It didn’t stop you from lingering on the sports article that covered him going pro, and it definitely did not stop you from sinking into a deep funk when news broke of his engagement.
If you were honest, you felt a bit pathetic. You were still hung up on your highschool sweetheart, and he was about to get married.
Honestly, how pitiful could you get?
So, instead of holding onto your dead relationship, you allowed yourself to relive the emotions the relationship elicited out of you. You allowed yourself to come to the terms that while Miyuki was terrible at communication, you were too.
You both were too young, too immature, for the seriousness of your relationship, and that was okay. It was okay that things didn’t work out. Sure, lighting doesn't strike twice in the same place, but you were too young to even realize that lighting had struck. It was okay to have regrets because that’s how life was. It was rare to have the perfect conclusion to, well, anything, and with that realization you were finally able to move on.
As the years passed, you chased your passions. You attended culinary school, and graduated which eventually led to you opening your own local cafe. It wasn’t much, but it was your own warm little abode that you’d built from the ground up. It was a physical representation of your hard work, and you couldn't be more proud of it.
Through those years, you didn’t think much about Miyuki. You didn’t scroll through his feed for updates. When you saw a sport’s article with his name in bold letters, you’d turn away from it. He was a person of your past, and you were content with that. You didn’t need to know how he was doing, what he was up to, because you were over him.
Well you were over him until he walked into your coffee shop.
It was a normal winter day. The city streets have been recently plowed because of frequent snowfall; the air was bitingly cold, yet the warmth of your cafe brought in a decent amount of customers who couldn’t wait to get their daily fix of caffeine or sweet treat.
Your mind had been occupied with getting each customer served, that when you heard the familiar chime of the front door’s bell, you only called out a light greeting, not looking up from the cash register as you logged in the current customer’s order. Yet, when you lifted your head, mouth parting to recite your practiced greeting to the next customer, you felt the words die on your tongue.
Your eyes widened, gaze locking with bright amber eyes that you’d only seen in pictures over the past few years. Your heart speeds up in your chest, and it takes everything in you to still your shaking hands. Never in your life did you expect for him to waltz into your coffee shop, fixing you with that crooked smirk that always seems to make your thoughts stutter.
You blink once, then twice, before you allow a professional smile to spread onto your face.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” You greeted, head tilting as you hoped that he didn’t notice the way your brain short circuited just moments before, “What can I get for you, Miyuki?”
“I hope you aren’t saying I aged bad,” He immediately responded, drawing out a soft giggle from you.
You shook your head, denying his claim, because no matter how much you did not want to admit it, he became even more handsome with age. You allowed your gaze to roam over his features as he gazed over the menu that hung above your head.
You noted how he’d grown just a bit taller, how despite years passing he somehow had the same style of black frames that he had in high school, and how his features seemed to be more pronounced. Before you could linger over his face any longer, you quickly snapped your gaze to the digital screen of your cash register, because you could not be caught checking out your high school ex.
“What do you suggest?” You hear him ask, and you lick your lip as you thought about your answer, recalling the seasonal drink options and your usual menu.
“Well, what are you in the mood for?” You eventually respond, turning your gaze back to the man on the other side of the counter, “If you’re feeling festive we have an array of cinnamon or ginger based drinks, yet if you’re a fan of more simple drinks, we have your basic cappuccinos and lattes.”
Shifting your stance, you watch as he mulls over your response, eyes still firmly locked on the menu before he waved his hand in an indifferent manner.
“Just make me your favorite drink.”
You nod, immediately logging in the order, refusing to allow yourself to think too deeply about the request. He was just here to get coffee. He was just another customer. He was just Miyuki.
After you told him the total and he paid, you began to work on his drink. You ignored the way he seemed to watch you buzz around behind the counter. You refused to glance at him again. No, you solely focused on the task at hand.
Once you finished his order, you handed it to him over the counter, ignoring the slight sting of electricity that shot up your arm as your fingers brushed against each other. You watched as he brought the cup to his lips before taking a small sip of the drink, eyes fluttering shut briefly before they met your gaze once again.
“Oh this is good,” He mummers, and you open your mouth to explain what's in the drink, yet he holds up his hand to stop you.
“I don’t need to know what’s in it.” He explains, causing your brows to furrow in confusion.
“But how will you order it again if you don’t know what it is?”
Miyuki is quiet for a moment, bright eyes roaming over your face as he leans against the counter, “How often are your shifts here?”
You blink at the question, a bit confused at what he was getting at, “Uh, I’m here nearly everyday.”
The smirk that spreads onto Miyuki’s full lips and it lets know that you’d fallen for something, yet you’re still unsure of exactly what that something is.
“Perfect, then you’ll just have to take my order every time I come, right?” He chirps, taking another sip from his coffee cup.
“Um,” You begin to say, but before a full sentence leaves your lips, he’s already bidding you goodbye, leaving just as fast as he came.
Throughout the rest of your workday, you’re plagued with thoughts about Miyuki and why on earth did he come to your cafe. Fuck, how did he even find out about your cafe. You attempted to push the thoughts away from your mind, yet they still plagued you even after you’d closed.
The next day, Miyuki comes into your coffee shop again, but this time he lingers.
It was a slower day for the cafe; your usual morning rush wasn’t that heavy so you knew who he was the moment the bell chime rang through the nearly empty coffee shop. Immediately, you began to go through the process of making his drink, handing it to him as you began to ring him up.
“Slow day, innit?” He commented, and a small smile played onto your lips.
“Yeah, but that gives me more time to do other things besides just making drinks,” You responded before telling him the price of his drink.
He handed you the exact amount of money you’d said, causing your brows to raise in slight surprise, but you don’t comment on it. Instead of leaving right after he received his coffee, he remained in your cafe, eyes lingering on your form as you cleaned up your work space.
He asked you questions, seemingly catching up with all of the things he missed in the years you’d grown apart, and fuck did this puzzle you. Why on earth did Miyuki just randomly breeze back into your life? Why was he behaving as if the last conversation the two of you held didn’t end in scathing words and tears?
You wanted to ask him this, to demand answers on how he learned about your little cafe, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. You were afraid of the answers to those questions, and seeing him again, even for a few minutes, brought a sense of peace in your life.
When you gazed into his amber eyes, you felt as if it was the very first time you’d seen him all those years ago. You’d missed the banter he brought, you missed his jeering, you missed him. You wished you could press rewind on the clock, to go back to the very moment of your relationship’s demise, yet you couldn’t.
Besides, you were getting ahead of yourself. To him, you were sure he just viewed this as catching up with an old classmate. He was happily engaged, and just engaging in a purely friendly conversation. At least, you thought he was engaged until he informed you that he’d broken off the engagement nearly a year ago. You don’t have much time to respond to him after this confession, because he’s wishing you a goodbye.
Yet, just like the day before, your thoughts are riddled with him.
You can’t help the bubble of curiosity in your chest. Did he seek you out for a sense of familiarity after a failed engagement? Was it purely chance that he’d walked into your cafe? You didn’t know, and frankly you were slightly afraid of the answer, but you knew that you needed to ask him these questions.
It takes weeks for you to build up the courage to ask him the questions that swarmed in your mind the moment he left your eyesight.
Sure, he still came to your cafe, ordering the same thing nearly everyday, engaging you in light conversation topics that filled in the gaps of the years you’d miss of his life. He told you about university, about the pro league, about how he was in general. Yet, his engagement was never brought up.
He’d ask you about your life, and you’d found yourself telling him about it rather candidly. You told him about the slight funk you fell into after graduation (of course you didn’t tell him the reason for the funk), about culinary school, about opening the cafe.
The unspoken questions linger in the air between the two of you, and though you find yourself tentatively growing closer to the man that visited your coffee shop nearly everyday, there was something actively holding you back from him.
So, when he walked through the door of your cafe after nearly a month of being your number one customer, you decided that this is the day that you’d ask the questions that’d been causing you to keep him at arm's length. You fall into the routine of fixing his drink, and as you hand it to him, instead of giving him your usual playful greeting, a question falls from your lips in a jumbled up mess.
“How on earth did you find out about my cafe?”
Miyuki’s gaze widens behind those black frames, and his usual smirk is dropped from his face. The pair of you look at eachother, minds filling with unspoken words, and the nearly empty cafe is so quiet that you’re sure he can hear your heart hammering away in your chest.
“How about we talk about this after you close?” He offers, and you nod as he paid for his coffee (the exact amount of cash like always), and bid you farewell.
The rest of your day is spent in an anxiety induced haze, until you’re flipping the open sign closed. Nursing a cup of your favorite warm beverage, you wait for Miyuki at one of your window seats and a mere five minutes pass before he’s walking into the cafe, discarding his snow littered coat. He sits beside you, thanking you for the drink you’d prepared for him as well.
The two of you are quiet, unsure where to start. Years of tension hang in the air, and you can feel your leg begin to bounce out of sheer nervousness. You hear Miyuki chuckle softly and your eyes shift to his grinning face. You raise a singular brow in question, and he shakes his head.
“It’s just funny how you still do that,” He comments, and you then halt your bouncing leg, soft laughter breezing through the warm air of the cafe.
“You know what they say,” You responded, facing him fully with a soft smile, “Old habits die hard.”
Miyuki’s grin melts into a smile that mirrors your own, and just a bit of the tension dissipates. You open your mouth to apologize for the rather random question that led the both of you to your current position, yet before you can even utter a word, he begins to tell you about the events that led him to your cafe.
He told you about how devastated your breakup left him, about how you broke his heart, about how he knew he broke your heart as well. He tells you about how thoughts of you plagued his mind all throughout your time apart, about how he yearned for a simple “do over.” Then, he begins to tell you about his engagement. A part of you wants to tell him to stop, because you don’t want to hear about the man you’d loved for years falling in love with another person.
Yet, you allow him to continue because he needs to get this off his chest, and you need to hear it.
You listen to him as he recounts the engagement, at how the relationship deteriorated into something toxic simply because he refused to let go of his love for you. Your hands began to shake around your coffee mug as you listened to him admit that the reason called off his engagement was because of you.
You nearly begin to cry.
You don’t know what to think, what to say.
A part of you wants to throw your arms around him, to weep into his chest about how much you missed him, but another part needs him to finish recounting his tale. So you anchor yourself to your seat, encouraging him to continue.
Finally, he tells you about how he heard about your little cafe. He tells you about how Kuramochi mentioned it in mere passing when they were catching up, and about how he couldn’t resist seeing you again. By now, your heart is beating so heavily in your chest, that it’s nearly hard to breathe.
Here he was laying his heart out bare for you to judge, to even reject. He wasn’t the boy that you’d turned your back on all those years ago. He didn’t brush off your questions with jokes, no, he answered them truthfully.
He was being vulnerable with you, and never in a million years would you have expected Miyuki Kazuya to approach you with his heart in his hands. You exhale shakily, hands removing themselves from your now cool mug, before you placed a soft hand over his larger one.
“Kazuya,” You breathed out, facing him fully, if he could bare his heart to you, then you could do the same, “I never stopped loving you.” Your confession fills the air between the two of you, and your hand squeezes his closed fist that rested on top of the table.
“Even after all these years, Kazuya,” You whispered to him,“I’m still in love with you.”
A mere second passes before his lips are on yours, and the same electricity you felt clap through your body from your very first kiss with him, strikes through you. Goosebumps littered your forearms as you melted into his embrace, pressing your body even more closer to his.
Apparently, lighting did strike in the same place twice.
#dayia no ace#dayia no ace x reader#diamond no ace#diamond no ace x reader#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#one shots#nghts week of fics
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It's been an absolute joy reading people's takes on the OC interview that has been floating around recently.
The idea of a Pale Rose interview (read: Fyarh and Nym dragging ex-courtier Reln into this) sounded so oddly entertaining that I wrote it for myself for fun but it turned out... surprisingly okay? So I'm gonna leave it here.
OC Interview: Pale Rose edition
(Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!)
1. Can you introduce yourself?
Fyarh: Sure. I’m Fyarh, founder and – formally – leader of Pale Rose. I’m also the head of the Dreamers’ division in our guild. (turns to the other two) And they are Nymeleia and Reln, head of the Soundless and Courtiers, respectively.
Nymeleia: (with a wide smile) Glad to be here!
Reln: (remains silent – just nods a little)
2. What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?
Fyarh: (after a few seconds of thinking) I’m male, maybe prefer others who identify as that too? Didn’t think too much about it before.
Nymeleia: I’m looking both ways. I’m female and taken, you could say.
Reln: Why is this even– (exhales) ...I’m male, I don’t care what my partner identifies as. And my relationships are not for the public to chew on.
3. Where and when were you born?
Nymeleia: Back in the Grove, all of us. I awoke at Dawn and the boys are both Night blooms.
4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?
Fyarh: I’m best at stealth and surprise – daggers work just fine with that. If it’s an open confrontation, I prefer a light sword that doesn’t hinder my agility. But I’m trained and still training in hand-to-hand combat too.
Nymeleia: I was trained at the Vigil to be the shield, not the spearhead of the attack. I stay behind and make sure nothing hits that shouldn’t. I utilize shades and magic so technically I don’t need a weapon – a staff or scepter can help, though. I also carry a dagger on me, just in case.
Reln: I’m best with a bow. Two-handed sword if it comes to that. But whatever does the job, really.
5. Lastly, are you happy?
Fyarh: (smiles and glances at the others) I am. I’m on the path my Wyld Hunt laid out to me and I got great allies and friends that are with me every step I take. I’m truly grateful for that.
Nymeleia: (with a soft smile) I feel like I found my calling here. I’m working on a cause and with people that are amazing. I’m pretty happy with that, yes.
(both look over to Reln)
Reln: (after a few seconds of silence, with a cynical smile) Are we just supposed to say yes or no to that? Like happiness is that easy to define. (he glances to the side for a second.) But it’s been better here. Take that as a yes.
FAMILY AND FRIENDS
1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?
Fyarh: The guild is the closest I have to a family in a sense you ask. I think? I’m on good terms with everyone – luckily, I mean... (he laughs a little nervously) ...it’s as it should be.
Nymeleia: I’m with Fyarh on this one. The sylvari in Rose are the closest people to me.
Reln: It really is pointless to ask sylvari about “family” – we’re all technically related, but are strangers at the same time.
Nymeleia: (with a smile she barely tries to hide) You are dodging the question.
Reln: I’m not dodging anything, I’m being reasonable. I have close friends, and allies – call that a family, if you want to.
2. Have you ever run away from home?
Nymeleia: We’re all sort of runaways, aren’t we? (she laughs) I’m Soundless, I left the Grove quite early, then joined the Vigil. Does that count?
Fyarh: It counts. But just so that you don’t feel left out. (Nymeleia gasps and mimics trying to kick him in the shin, they both laugh. Takes them a few more seconds to get back on track.)
Fyarh: I used to sneak away a lot when I was supposed to be in lectures. I loved discovering Caledon, I knew every corner of it so well when I was a sapling. Maybe I’d still remember if I walked around.
Reln (after everyone looks at him): ...I’m from the Court. I think that’s self-explanatory.
Fyarh: But didn’t you also wander away a lot?
Reln: You could say. I preferred being alone. Hunting was a good excuse.
3. Would you consider marriage or having children?
Fyarh: In the far future, maybe? I’m still very young though, and my hands are full with my guild and my Hunt. It’s definitely not something I think about a lot.
Nymeleia: Marriage sounds cute – I like the idea of honoring commitment with a little ceremony.
Reln: Neither of those seems to be for me.
Nymeleia: (quietly) Ah, my heart.
(Reln glances at her, but doesn’t respond.)
4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?
Fyarh and Nymeleia: No...?
Reln: (slightly annoyed) Is it even a friend if you hate them? Next question.
5. Which friend knows everything about you?
Fyarh: Maybe Daleien? We've known each other for the longest, and he was with me through thick and thin. Nowadays I share a lot with Nym and Reln too. I used to be very secretive about myself but I’m working on it.
Nymeleia: We chat and gossip a lot with Dia – she’s another Soundless from the guild. She’s lovely and so supportive, I’m really glad I have her.
Reln: I’m not the one to share everything about myself. But my second-in-command knows the most.
Nymeleia: Oh don’t listen to him. He and Lavan technically read each other’s minds – no words, just half a gesture, and they know all they need to know.
ASKED BY FANS
1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?
Fyarh: I’m literate, and I’ve been mentored as much – well, maybe a little less – than any other sylvari.
Nymeleia: I actually struggled with reading and writing for a while – I could, just not well, as I never really had to. Paperwork has been a nightmare for the first months in Rose, but by now I got the hang of it. I’ve been reading a lot of novels recently, too.
Reln: I’m literate, and was mentored like all other saplings. The latter didn’t reach its purpose, though.
2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?
(They all look at each other, but neither of them seems to have an answer or anything they’d be willing to share.)
3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?
Fyarh: Oh. I somehow never really talked about my Wyld Hunt in.... sufficient detail to my mentors? Not before the Wardens arrested me for hiding thorn pups in a forsaken outpost. It was a real journey talking my way out from there. One of the most embarrassingly funny things that happened to me, in retrospect.
Nymeleia: I was always too caught upon not handling the concept of pain, and death, very well. I don’t regret working on it and toughening up, I just wish I had realized sooner that I should hone my strengths instead of desperately trying to “correct” what I perceive as a weakness.
Reln: ...I guess I haven’t realized soon enough what real understanding means. (he seems mildly uncomfortable by the question, and does not elaborate)
4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?
Fyarh: Fighting takes a toll on everyone, I’d say. But nothing other than that.
Nymeleia: (nodding along – her eyes wander off to the distance)
Reln: A few scars here and there. Had a lot to deal with after coming back from the heart of the jungle, but I have worked through most of those by now.
5. What is your current main goal?
Fyarh: I’m dedicating all my time to the guild. It’s been coming along so much better than what I prepared myself for, and I’m not about to waste the opportunity.
Nymeleia: I’m not satisfied with my level of skills on the field yet – I’m spending as much time on training as I can, next to Rose. There are some other necromancers in the guild with who we share our knowledge, and I have gotten some general good advice and lectures from Firstborn Trahearne himself. It’s crazy how far Fyarh’s connections go.
Reln: I’m busy training and supervising my own division. Most of us are reliable and trusting, but there are and will always be a few loose cannons I need to keep an eye out for.
CHOICES
1. Drink or food?
Fyarh: A drink, maybe? I tend to forget to eat. It’s getting on Nym’s nerves at times.
Nymeleia: Ah don’t even mention it. I’m picking food – nothing tops a good, warm meal after a long day.
Reln: Food, if I have to pick.
2. Cats or dogs?
Fyarh: I love cats. I wouldn't mind adopting one, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to take good care of them.
Nymeleia: Can we pick both, maybe?
Reln: (glancing at the thorn wolf lying next to him) I’m more of a dog person. But cats are good too.
3. Early bird or night owl?
Fyarh: I’m a night owl. Waking up with the rest of the guild at early hours is a nightmare for me. I tend to oversleep so much, it’s almost comical.
Nymeleia: That’s not a problem for me though. I’m up before everyone else. And so is Reln.
Reln: (nodding)
4. Optimist or pessimist?
Fyarh: Optimist.
Nymeleia: Same, some will even say naive for sure.
Reln: Middle ground. I’m more of a realist than any of the two.
5. Sassy or sarcastic?
Fyarh: Maybe... sassy? With close friends. I don’t feel like either most of the time, honestly.
Nymeleia: Would you say I’m more sassy or sarcastic?
Reln: (to her) Is that really a question?
Nymeleia: Oh entertain me.
Reln: (gestures towards her; she laughs)
HAVE YOU EVER
1. Been caught sneaking out?
Fyarh: Once, when I was sneaking out of a Court camp with two stolen thorn pups. Barely got away. Didn’t dare to show myself around there for a while.
Nymeleia: Several times. Did a lot of bathroom cleaning in the Vigil for it too.
Reln: If I was, I doubt I would be here today.
2. Broken a bone?
Fyarh: Miraculously, no. I don’t even know myself how’s that possible.
Nymeleia: My left arm. Open wound, too – wasn’t a good experience.
Reln: Nothing that a field medic couldn’t fix.
3. Received flowers?
Fyarh: If you mean it like, in a romantic way? No, not yet.
Nymeleia: I received a few, but in my experience Vigil soldiers are more of the blunt than the romantic type.
Reln: No.
Nymeleia: How dare you. I gave you potted herbs a while ago!
Fyarh: (leaning forward) Potted herbs?
Nymeleia: It’s because he takes his food back to his room all the time. And then he complains about the seasoning. Go figure!
4. Ghosted someone?
Fyarh: I did... use to run away from confrontations a lot. But people say I’ve gotten better with that too.
Nymeleia: I prefer to just tell people if I’m not interested in talking to them. As kindly as possible, of course. But I think it’s ruder to leave them hanging.
Reln: I did leave from places – the Grove, the Court – suddenly, but then again, I didn’t have many connections to either in the first place.
5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?
Fyarh: That happens. Easier than trying to go back to it and figure it out, takes away the flow of the conversation.
Nymeleia: Everyone does that from time to time, no?
Reln: I don’t. If someone’s not funny enough, that’s not my problem.
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hey! i hope you’re having an amazing day. this is just me popping in your inbox to say that’s youre one of my favourite writers and you got me really interested in winteriron (honestly one of the cutest ships) are there any fics/authors ii could reccomend?
Hi there! Thank you so much! I love this ship so much, they’ve got such potential for both fluff and angst. They really are one of my favorite ships to write and I’m glad I was able to write so much for them this year. I certainly do have plenty of recs for you, starting with my favorite authors:
@riotwritesthings: started writing last year, I highly recommend just about everything Riot writes but especially Road Hazards, Melt into Me (Your Words are My Own), and When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)
@hddnone: so many stories and all so good! Has nearly 100 Winteriron works on ao3 and you will not regret reading any of them, though fair warning that some of them are Team Cap Critical. Especially recommend Honey Pot, You’ve Got Mail, and A Bit(e) of Danger
@monobuu: mostly an artist but sometimes writes stories as well. i recommend Ravioli, Invincible Summer, and Meet the Fam
@tisfan and @27dragons: can’t make a Winteriron rec list without including the both of them. They work together a lot but you should definitely take a look at their own stuff as well. I recommend Safe and (the) Sound, Kiss Me Thru the Phone, and Stark, Naked
@ad1thi: currently taking a bit of a hiatus and working on non-Marvel works but I love everything Adi writes, particularly her entire Bollywood but Make it Gay series, which isn’t always Winteriron but wonderful nonetheless. I recommend the Greek Gods AU, 1000 Lives (For You), and we’re connected
@the-winter-writer: lots of smut and all absolutely fantastic! I like Precious Treasure, Winter Wings, and Instinct
@rayshippouuchiha: definitely an iconic writer for this fandom. Really great if you’re looking for genderbends. Writes a lot of absolutely incredible fics and not just for Winteriron but my personal favorites are The (Not So) Great Pretender, Fearful Symmetry, and The Mistletoe Kiss Polka
Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): once again very iconic. you’ve probably read at least one of their works even if didn’t know. I recommend Shameless, Today’s Forecast, and Practice Makes Perfect
@lovelyirony: mostly writes ficlets here on tumblr and a multishipper (I don’t know why I’m saying that like it’s a bad thing, I’m a multishipper), also a fan of Sharon Carter and that’s the thing that made me follow her so you know
@amethystinawrites: I only recently started working their works but I’m loving everything I’ve come across so far. I recommend Tech Support and I Won’t Hold My Breath
AvocadoLove: also writes a lot of Stony and Stuckony, which I love a lot, but for their Winteriron works, I recommend Amalgam and Dead Man’s Switch
Dracusfyre: another one I’m new to. I literally just started reading their works today so I don’t have any recs for them yet but one of my friends loves them so I’m going to go with you should definitely take a look at their works
Eirlyssa: has some anti-Team Cap works so keep an eye out for that if that’s not your thing but writes very good Winteriron. I recommend Guide Me Home (Guide My Heart) and Always (I’ll Be There)
@imposter-human: one of the first MCU blogs I ever followed! I recommend childhood memories, speak my language, and lost in translation
As for specific works I like:
Four Strings and Second Chances by Vashoth
It was reluctance to let one of his finest inventions ever out of his grasp that made him take a couple days over a week to send the arm to Pepper’s office. But all things considered, Tony figured that sending finest prosthetic that had ever come into existence--literally grasping an olive branch--was one of the classiest gifts he’d ever given. He’d included a note and everything. ‘Barnes,
Can help with installation. Or not. Up to you. --Stark'
Who is the Mechanic? by @akira-of-the-twilight
The Asset watched as his handlers brought in a stranger—a man with a metal object stuck to his chest that was hooked to a car battery.
The handlers shoved the man onto the stool where many who had operated on the Asset’s arm in the past had sat before.
“Asset,” one handler said, “meet the Mechanic. He will be responsible for the upkeep of your arm. Should anything malfunction, kill him.”
The Asset eyed the Mechanic. The Mechanic was glassy-eyed and unresponsive.
He’d probably be dead in a week.
The Fix by SleepsWithCoyotes
Right, because Tony...Tony fixes things. He remembers thinking that, not for the first time.
Paths are Made by Walking by @potrix-the-queerschlaeger
The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.
Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.
The Evidence by StrivingArtist
Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.
Fuck it.
He knew they noticed.
And he knew they liked him better this way.
Shadowed Hearts and Winter Souls by NotEvenCloseToStraight
The mid-1800s and Antonio Carbonell Stark is caught in a scandal with his lover. Desperate for a chance to escape the trouble and his own broken heart, Tony accepts a proposal from a mysterious Russian heiress and flees the country.
Natalia Romanova is in trouble of her own and has enough secrets to make Tony's head spin but somehow they settle into a fake marriage and calm day-to-day together, and everything works... until her half brother comes home and their life is disrupted again.
James is somber and silent, brutal and nearly broken and scarred, a soldier of the resistance. His heart is cold and gaze like ice, but his hands are hot and lips are warm and Tony finds himself ignoring the blood on James's palms and the shadows in his soldier’s eyes, and falling in love.
When danger lands at their doorstep, Natalia and Tony have to pack up and leave, running away in the middle of the night and leaving their men behind.
The distance between Tony and James gets longer every day, and Natalia has been keeping a secret for that can’t be hidden much longer. With no place to call home and a thousand miles between them and the men they love, what are Tony and Natalia supposed to do?
Puppy Love by Reioka
Bucky is learning to become a person again. When some guy starts crying all over Natasha's dog, he decides he's doing better than he originally thought.
Describe Your Perfect Date by ali_aliska
After getting turned down by Bucky, Tony decides it’s time to move on from his massive crush. He tries online dating—Pepper’s idea, not his—but the only thing worse than getting rejected is getting rejected and finding out your soulmate-level match is Clint Barton, all in the same day.
Clint, of course, does not let opportunities like this go to waste, but he’s driving Tony nuts for a good cause, he swears.
Bucky’s just trying to do the right thing and fails spectacularly, but it all works out in the end.
Rocket Science by marsmaywonder and orbingarrow
Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”
What’s Good for the Goose by Taste_is_Sweet
For this nonny prompt at the Imagine Tony and Bucky comm on Tumblr:
"A soulmate AU where an immortal goose shows up one day to lead you to your soulmate, the challenge is surviving the goose." (Full prompt in notes.)
We all have soulmates, and every soulmate pair shares an animal guide. The Guide is there to lead you to your One True Love, and they represent the aspects of the psyche that you both share. They appear when you're about to meet your soulmate, and often materialize in moments of great personal crisis, offering hope and support. There are stories upon stories about how someone's Guide appeared to lead them to their One True, or how the barest glimpse of their Guide eased their hearts and gave them hope in the midst of despair. The newly-rescued almost always attribute their Guide with giving them the strength and courage to hang on.
Animal Guides are ephemeral, ethereal, and elusive. They are, most often, no more than a warm presence or flicker out of the corner of one's eye. They are incarnate symbols of perseverance, optimism and hope. Foretellers of happiness, and the grand destiny of love.
Except for geese. Geese are assholes.
and so, we unfold by TheKitteh
Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.
An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.
Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.
He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.
He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself. --- Tony simply goes through days and motions. He deals with the Avengers, with R&;D, with the rewritten Accords. All of it, it’s nothing new really. He just wants to get things done.
What’s new is seeing Barnes hunched over the coffee table, one step away from ripping a glossy magazine apart in the middle of the night.
And why the hell Barnes keeps looking at him during the days after like he’s a puzzle to be solved?
Welcome to the Winteriron fandom! We’ve got a lot of incredible authors and artists both and this is just the tip of the iceberg!
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When in New York- Warren Worthington III
Words: 1,886
Warnings: bit of angst, language. kissing.
Summary: Y/N and Warren get sent to New York to look for a mutant, but the tension between the two of them is just too much.
A/N: This went through so much rewrites but I’m kinda happy with how this turned out. Warren is a little bit out of character here I think? I was low-key inspired by a tiktok video by Read Choi about tsundere characters or smth. So yeah here it is haha
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! Masterlist in bio.
It wasn’t new for the X-men to be sent to find and help distressed mutants, or mutants who recently found out about their abilities, or mutants being mistreated, or mutants causing mischief, and so much more. But on this day the team was spread thin as there was a suspicious surge of mutant activity. They were split into pairs to search for the mutants in question. (Y/n) was sent to New York City with the last person she wanted to be paired up with, Warren Worthington the third.
It’s not she didn’t like Warren, she just found him to be a bit confusing. At times he can be a bit of a jerk to her, always telling her what to do on missions and acting like she couldn’t take care of herself or that she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Other times he likes to flirt with her, telling her some cheesy pick-up lines, being a little too touchy and clingy, or teasing her a bit by leaning so close to her that thei lips almost touch. The last one pisses her off the most but somehow she got used to it. The rest of the team knew about the tension between (Y/n) and Warren, but insisted that they work together for this specific mutant search, silently hoping that the two would just get together already.
Jean said that because Warren knew NYC like the back of his hand, and that (Y/n) had the powers of illusion she could use to hide Warren’s wings so they wouldn’t draw in too much attention, they were the best people to be paired up together for this specific mission. As much as Y/N hated to admit it, she knew that Jean was right.
“The professor said that the mutant was last seen causing mischief by the Empire state building. We could ask around to see if anyone recognizes them.” Y/N said as they walked around the city. Y/N was about to take a left turn when Warren grabbed her arm.
“Not the right way, dumbass.” He said with a blank face.
“Well lead the fucking way then, Mister I grew up in New York.” She said as she turned to face him. “You know, you could be a little nicer?”
“What? I am nice?” Warren chuckled as he started to walk again. She walked faster to catch up to him.
“Could you walk a little bit slower?” she said with a huff.
“Not my fault you walk so slow.” Warren grinned teasingly.
“Hey I’m saying this for your sake. My illusions only work within a certain proximity. Walk too far and you can bet that people would scream at the sight of you.” She said trying her best to match his pace. Warren scoffed at her words.
“Gee thanks, (Y/n).” Warren said coldly.
“What? I’m just telling the truth!”
“Yeah. I get it. I look like a fucking freak. Whatever.”
“Oh. Warren, that’s not what I meant.” She said as he stayed silent, continuing to walk towards the destination. “Warren, please. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever, we’re here.” Warren says as he pointed to the Empire state building.
You drop the subject and start to ask around if anyone saw a mutant around lately. You get a lead that the mutant hangs around spray painting the subways a lot. Warren lead (Y/n) to the nearest station and started searching for someone who could easily be a mutant. Luckily there weren’t a lot of people there at the time. The station they went to had no signs of the mutant only a freshly sprayed graffiti on one of the walls.
“Our guy was probably just here.” (Y/n) said as she touched the wet paint. She wiped her fingers on her jeans to get the paint off.
“No shit.” Warren said as he looked around to try and find the mutant.
“Are you still mad at me for earlier?” She asked as he ignores her. “WARREN?!”
Warren bursts out laughing earning a confused look from Y/N. He wrapped an arm around her pulling her into his chest.
“I was just messing with you. I’m sorry.” He said laughing as she slapped his chest and pushed him away.
“God, for someone called Angel a lot you’re not being angelic.” She said as she rolled her eyes at him. “Let’s just head to the next station and get this over with.”
“Hey, I said I’m sorry.” Warren said as he reached out for her hand.
(Y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed his hand and pulled Warren towards the trains. Despite the lack of people on the train there were no seats left. The train started moving causing (Y/n) to lose her balance and almost fall. Warren caught her by the arm and steadied her.
“Be careful next time, dumbass.” Warren chuckled.
“Not funny, jerk.” She stands awkwardly trying to balance herself as the guy sitting in front of her stands up and offers her his seat.
“Here, take my seat.” The stranger offered. She noticed that the guy offering his seat to her was quite good looking.
“It’s fine. I get off at the next station.” She said smiling sweetly at stranger, batting her eyelashes a little bit.
“I insist. You’re way too cute to be standing there.” He said with wink as he ushered her to his previous seat.
“Tha-” Y/N was about to say her thanks when Warren interrupted.
“Nah. She’s good.” He said as he pulled her towards him. He holds her close to him burying her face into his chest. Warren was acting a little off, but Y/N found it a bit endearing. She wasn’t going to admit it but she found being in Warren’s arms was oddly comforting.
“She your girlfriend or something?” The stranger asks.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Warren said nonchalantly. Y/n’s eyes go wide as a blush creeps onto her face. She looks up at him questioningly. He only grins at her.
“My bad. Sorry bro.” he said as he backs away.
The train stops and the door opens. Warren leads her out into the station platform. She only notices their intertwined hands once they stopped walking. He doesn’t let go of her hand until she pulled it away.
“What was that about?” she said staring at him.
“He was hitting on you.” He said casually.
“Yeah, I knew that. It wasn’t exactly uninvited though!” She said a little bit frustrated.
“Don’t tell me you honestly like that guy?!” Warren asked with a snarl.
“Was it not obvious? God, Warren. What the fuck?” Y/N screamed. People started looking but she didn’t care.
“I don’t like that guy.” Warren said his brows furrowed.
“What does it matter? You’re not the one he was hitting on.” She retorted.
“It matters because he was hitting on you!” He said abruptly. He looks down on the ground as if he regrets what he said.
“Wait. Are-are you jealous?” She asked eyeing him curiously.
“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” He said regaining his composure.
“I don’t know? But you’re acting like you’re a jealous boyfriend right now.” Y/N said looking at him. He avoids eye contact. “It’s confusing, Warren. One minute you’re being a jerk to me like usual, then the next you cock block that guy from hitting on me and called me your girlfriend. Please, tell me what your deal is because it’s honestly really-“
Warren cuts her off by smashing his lips onto hers. Y/N melts into the kiss as he holds her by the waist. She wraps her arms around his neck deepening the kiss. Moments later they break apart as they felt the stares the people were giving them.
“Warren I-” He cut her off again.
“Let’s talk about this later, yeah?” Warren said with a smirk. “I think we just found our guy.”
Y/N looks over to where Warren was looking to see a young boy who was about 17 spray painting one of the walls. It didn’t take long for Warren and Y/N to convince the kid to come with them to Xaviers, so they brought the him along with them and went back home. The conversation that they were supposed have about them long forgotten.
It has been a week since that day and Y/N found herself alone in her room laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, memory of the kiss that happened playing in her head. She couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. She hasn’t seen Warren all week, she started to wonder if he was avoiding her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on her door. She stood up to open the door, revealing a rather bashful looking Warren.
“Hi.” He started. “So about New York, I- uh, we never really had the chance to talk about it.”
“Oh. Yeah. I kinda thought you were avoiding me.” Y/N joked. “You want to come inside?”
“I kind of was?” He said as he entered her room and sat on her bed. She visibly frowned at what he said. “I- I don’t know. You make me feel things, Y/N.”
“What?” Was all she could reply.
“When I’m with you, I just want to protect you and wrap you around my arms and to kiss you. And fuck, what happened in New York, I’ve been thinking about that day ever since. I get I can be a jerk to you sometimes but I just get so scared when I think about what I feel for you that it just became a defense mechanism or whatever. This thing, it’s all so new to me, but all I know is that I can’t stand the thought of losing you or you being with someone else. I guess, what I’m trying to say is that-” Warren paused to look at you in the eyes. “I’m in love with you, Y/N”
Warren looked at her hopefully, waiting for her to say something, anything. She stood there taking a while before Warren’s last words finally hit her. He was in love with her. Warren Worthington III, the guy she was crushing on for a while not, was in love with her.
“What?” Was all she could say again. Still in shock of Warren’s confession.
“I said what I said, Y/N. I’m not going to repeat myself. I know you heard me.” He said with an unreadable look on his face.
“Y-yeah. I heard you. It’s just that- wow. You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of this moment. And honestly, New York was unexpected but I would want a repeat of that.” Y/N said smirking. She walks closer to Warren as he places his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him.
“That I can do.” Warren said with a wide grin. “Come here.”
He pulled her to his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She caressed his face before closing the gap between them. The kiss was more gentle and slow, compared to the one they shared in New York. It was full of longing and want, and yet full of passion. Y/N pulls away first, brushing the curly blonde hair out of Warren’ face, as she looked at him longingly.
“I love you, Warren.”
“I know.” Warren said smirking before kissing her again.
#Warren Worthington III#warren worthington the third#warren worthington imagine#warren worthington x reader#warren x reader#ben hardy#ben hardy x you#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy x female reader#Warren Worthington III X Reader#Warren Worthington III Imagines#xmen#xmen apocalypse#xmen days of future past#xmenageofapocalypse#X-men#X-Men: Days of Future Past#x-men: apocalypse#X-Men Apocalypse#x-men imagine
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N7 Month - Day 20
Stars
The Normandy seemed to be holding its breath as they crossed the galaxy, every soul aboard knowing and fearing what waited for them on the other side of the relay. Garrus himself was no different. The temptation to spend the remaining night pacing the Main Battery and planning for every conceivable outcome was beguiling. But there was something that he wanted more. Or rather, someone he wanted more.
So he’d gathered up his courage and the bottle of wine he’d purchased over a year ago and made his way to the elevator. The low tapping of his boot was the only noise in the otherwise silent ride up to the top level.
The doors to the cabin opened automatically as Garrus approached, and his gut clenched as he laid eyes on Shepard. She was standing at her fish tank, one arm and her forehead pressed to the glass, eyes a million miles away. A moment too slow, she blinked and looked his way.
“Garrus,” she said, stepping away from the wall. Fatigue was written in her every subtle movement, who knew how long she’d just been standing there.
“Hey…” He grinned slightly and brandished the bottle. “I brought wine.”
She chuckled once, obviously catching his reference. “Best you could afford on a reaper advisor’s salary?”
“Yeah. So it should be pretty good.” He stepped closer, noticing the dark circles under her eyes now. He almost wished he hadn’t seen them. “Do you mind if I join you?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Fish were getting boring to look at anyway.”
They moved to the couch, Shepard sitting down with a low sigh. As she stretched out her ever stiff shoulder, Garrus poured the wine into the glasses on the table. “How are you feeling?” he asked after he sat down perpendicular to her.
She ran a hand through her hair. “Oh, I tried sleeping for a while, but I gave up on that about an hour ago… or a few months ago, depending on how you count it.” It had the cadence of a joke, but it felt a little too close to the truth for Garrus to find it truly funny. “Any news from the Hierarchy?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“Nothing new,” he quickly answered. He hadn’t come here to talk business, but admittedly broaching his intended topic was a bit more daunting than it seemed downstairs.
“How about your family? Were… were they on the Citadel?”
He hadn’t come here to talk about them either. “No, thank Spirits. They’re on Tuchanka last I heard.”
“Probably the safest place in the whole galaxy right now,” she replied, obviously trying to comfort him.
“Yeah.” He just needed to go for it, or at least direct the conversation that way so they didn’t fall into their usual patterns. “I was thinking earlier about how odd it is that it always works out like this.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“There’s always the wait before the end, the quiet before the storm,” he explained, handing her a glass before taking the other. “There was the night before Ilos and then… those few hours before Omega-4. And now… tonight.”
She swirled her glass and thought for a moment. “You’re right. Huh. Never noticed that before.” Her gaze turned his direction. “This is why I keep you around.”
“And for my good looks, of course,” he added.
That made a true smile cross her face, bright and so rare these days. “You are quite the looker,” she mused into her glass. Maybe it was just his imagination, but there didn’t seem to be quite enough of a joking tone in her voice. Either way, he let himself truly hope for the first time in over a year.
She held up her glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To… second chances.”
There was just enough of a shift in her expression that he knew she’d understood him. Still, she backed off, dropping his gaze and plastering a rueful grin across her face. “And thirds and fourths and fifth chances too.” The glasses clinked together, and he noticed that Shepard took a larger than usual swig. She blew out a breath and glanced his way, though she seemed to be paying unusual attention to the glass in her hand. “I’m… I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Her jaw shifted, obviously she was debating something internally. Years of experience with her just made him calmly wait, it would be worth it.
“Honestly, I, ah… I’m kind of surprised to be seeing you right now.”
He frowned slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah. I figured you’d… you’d be with Tali,” she finished quickly, as if ripping off a bandage.
His frown deepened. “Tali?” What? “Why?”
Her free hand drifted up to rub at the back of her neck uneasily. “I… caught the end of a few conversations between you two recently,” she admitted slowly.
“And…?”
Her eyes lifted to his, widening as if she expected more of a response from him. Which just served to confuse him more.
“Do you really not know?” she asked, now matching his confusion.
“Apparently not.”
Her words came out slow, as if she was picking each one with extreme care. “She was definitely flirting with you, Garrus.”
His confusion turned abruptly to surprise. “Really?” Mentally, he ran through the last few conversations he remembered with Tali. Were there tells that he’d missed or ignored somehow?
“How did you not know?” she asked, the words bobbing with slight amusement. “It wasn’t subtle.”
“I don’t--! I had no idea--Spirits, I probably owe her an apology now.” He pressed the palm of his hand so his forehead.
“Probably.” She snickered quietly, but Garrus didn’t even bother trying to bring himself to mind. She was beautiful when she smiled--well, she was always beautiful, but she became resplendent when she smiled. Though there was enough of a bitter tint to her expression that he decided to fire a shot across the bow. It was time.
“Even--” He cleared his throat and started again. “Even if I had known her intentions, I would have turned her down.”
She looked at him, a guarded expression appearing on her face. “You would?”
He nodded. “Tali’s great and a very dear friend. But… well, someone caught my eye a long time ago, and I’m not going to be changing my mind anytime soon.”
She set down her glass, the corners of her mouth downturning and her hand returning to the back of her neck. “Doubtful that they’re so deserving of your patience.”
“She is.” He palpably felt her gaze meet his. All the air in the cabin suddenly vanished. “You are,” he added, needing her to understand him without pretense.
But she shied away, looking away and pulling back. “Garrus,” she sighed.
“Shepard.” He leaned forward, taking her hand in his and claiming her attention. “If you… regret Omega-4 or--or you… changed your mind, tell me now, and I will never mention this again for the rest of my life, I promise.” Every heartbeat thudded in his ears as he waited for her to confirm his deepest fears. But a minute passed, and she was silent. Relief swept through his person, making his head swim slightly. “But if it’s just… bad timing…”
“Of course it’s bad timing.” She pulled away, running both hands through her hair now. He let himself remember how silky it felt between his fingers, how it shimmered in the light from the fish tank, how she smiled at his fascination. “My whole life is bad timing.”
“I think there are many in this galaxy who would disagree,” he replied, scooting a little closer to her.
“My timing with… with the important stuff then. The things that matter just to me.” She dropped back against the couch, frowning deeply. “Can’t ever seem to make those line up--born under some bad stars, I guess.”
“Turians don’t really believe in fate.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think I did either.” Till I met you, her eyes finished when she looked his way.
“Maybe I can change your mind then,” he said, leaning towards her and tipping his subvocals into flirtatious octaves. He was mostly seeking to snap her out of this downward spiral she’d found herself in. And she did, a smirk lifting a corner of her mouth for a moment, but she still looked away with a slight shake of her head.
“You deserve more than just a few hours before the end, Garrus.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” he replied, scooting close enough to press his side against hers and gently take her hand again.
She didn’t move away, but she shook her head more this time. “You deserve more than me--”
“Shepard,” he cut her off before she could finish that ridiculous insult of a sentence.
But she pressed on. “I’m sorry that I held back, I am. But I--”
“Jane.” The name no one ever called her anymore finally stopped her. He cupped her cheek, thumb stroking softly over her freckles as he studied her face for a moment. “I understood--I understand,” he assured her. “It’s ruthless calculus, but you’re not deciding between strangers, you’re deciding which of your friends to bring with you on life-threatening missions. And you have to make that decision possible for yourself. I get it, I do.”
“There’s that, yes. But…” Whether it was the shadowy lighting in the cabin, or perhaps how closely he was seeing her, but she’d never looked so exhausted as she did right then--stretched impossibly wide and given the weight of the galaxy to bear. A thin hum of worry eked from his subvocals. “It’s no secret how much of this war is counting directly on me. And I knew that at the end of the day, I’d have nothing left in me to give you. You deserved more, you deserved better… You still do.”
“Jane…” Her name came out soft, caressing and pleading all at once. He dipped his head to press his brow against hers. “You are what I want… for everything that you are and everything that you aren’t. I just want you. No more, no less.” Her eyes went wide then all at once she collapsed into him. He pulled her onto his lap, into his arms. Her face tucked against his neck and arms wound around his carapace. A deep part of him unclenched to finally be holding her again. It had been far too long.
For a long while, they were quiet. Garrus combed his fingers through her hair and savored just how right it felt to be with her like this. There were few things in the galaxy that felt as right as this did, despite their differences.
“I want you too,” she whispered before lifting her head to meet his gaze. She still looked tired, but there was a peace in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’ve wanted you so for long.”
“I’m right here. Always have been, always will.”
Her fingertips traced over the broken colony markings on his scarred mandible as she nodded slowly. “Is it too soon to say ‘I love you’?”
The galaxy completely unraveled and then re-wove itself in the two seconds following her question. He’d never dared… well, his heart was always a bit too headstrong to be fully curbed when it came to Shepard, but this was certainly far beyond his expectations for the evening. Wasn’t that always the way with her?
Breathless and more than just stunned, he shook his head.
She smiled softly. “I love you, Garrus Vakarian. Have for a very long time.”
Despite the fact that he was sitting down with Shepard straddling him, Garrus suddenly felt as if he may very well float away. He pulled her closer and pressed his brow to hers again. “Jane,” he barely managed to say around his subvocals resounding his return of her feelings. If he loved her less, he might be able to say it better.
She laughed slightly, a hand cupping the back of his head. “I know. It’s okay. You don’t--”
However, he shook his head and sat back. She deserved to hear it in a way she could understand. “I love you too,” he said, breathless with joy. “So much.”
She closed the distance to kiss him, exuberantly and pressing so close she could slip under his carapace. It was every bit as perfect as he’d remembered even though it was cut short as they both couldn’t stop smiling.
“I didn’t think I’d get this far tonight,” he admitted, still grinning. Perhaps he’d never stop.
She laughed and then kissed him tenderly. “Well, we do need to make up for lost time.”
“We have plenty of time still ahead of us.”
Hope bloomed in her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as the stars.”
Ao3 Version
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𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
LATE NIGHT CONFESSIONS a lonely teenage girl, who’s in search of comfort and closure, confesses her troubles to the guy who just broke into her house.
a min yoongi oneshot.
"oh my god, yes!" you cheered at your television, jumping up slightly from your comfortable position on your bed. "olivia benson, you've done it again! i love you!" you couldn't help the huge grin that plastered itself onto your face when the detective uncovered the 20-year-old unsolved murder case, and rushed to arrest the culprit before he could escape to jamaica.
this was how you usually spent your summer vacation. you sleep at the time you usually wake up for school, which is around 6 am, watching and re-watching episodes of law and order: svu, and wake up at the time you arrive home from school.
you followed the same routine everyday. wake up at 2 p.m., clean the house, eat, and go to sleep at 6 a.m.
you would be lying if you said you weren't desperate to run out into the woods behind tour house in search of an adventure. anything that didn't force you to clean this darn house everyday, putting up with your mother's constant screams and insults.
you picked up your remote control and clicked a few buttons to select a new episode, reaching into your bag of chips only to find it empty.
realizing you'd have to abandon the comforts of your bed to get more food from downstairs, you groaned in frustration, and put on your slippers before heading towards the kitchen.
you rummaged through the cabinets in search of something that would satisfy your needs, finally deciding on a pack of cookies and the box of your favorite cap'n crunch cereal.
when you finally settled on the kitchen table, you held up the spoonful of cereal up to your mouth, but before you could take a bite, a strange shuffling that came from the living room caught your attention. you froze in your spot, blood running cold at the noises, afraid you were just moments away from encountering the dead woman your mother and relatives had warned you about.
your mind began to look for other possibilities in order to keep your composure, but when it couldn't, you thought about what you had done recently to deserve her haunting.
of course you had talked back to your parents, insulted your siblings, and lied about who had eaten the last forbidden brownie that was supposed to be for your father, blaming it in your little sister when it had actually been you, but you kept telling yourself you were innocent. as if the freaky woman could read your mind or better yet; believe you.
the sudden noise of heavy footsteps then filled your ears, and you were about to make a run for the backyard door to receive your dog's protection when whoever or whatever it was giving you goosebumps suddenly came into your view. and it was definitely not a creepy woman dressed in white with long black hair covering half of her face.
with the spoonful of cereal still near you mouth, you stared wide eyed at the stranger, who looked no older than 20, before you, mouth hanging open at the surprising reveal. he appeared to be just as shocked as you when he stopped dead in his tracks obviously not expecting anybody to be awake at three-in-the-morning, and certainly not eating in the kitchen.
you both stared at each other for a good two minutes before you decided to break the uneasy tension. "uh. . . . what are you doing in my house?" your arm was beginning to sting from prolonged period of time it was spending in the air, but you could barely feel the forming pain.
he stayed silent for a couple of minutes, trying to think of any other reason than for the one he was actually here for, but obviously came up with nothing convincing. "um. . . . robbing your house. . . ?"
his awkward and nervous tone gave away the fact that this was definitely his first rodeo. his stance and innocent face wasn't threatening to you, so instead of running for help, you kept your curious gaze on him while slowly inching the spoon closer to your mouth, chewing on the soggy cereal that had been patiently waiting to be devoured for a good ten minutes.
your mind was blank of any sarcastic responses, so you did what you did best; stood silent while making your opponent uncomfortable under your burning stare. this was a superpower your mother kindly passed on to you, but you had to admit hers was much more deadlier than yours.
when he nervously reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun, you instantly knew your superpower had once again succeeded. your hands immediately flew into the air in surrender, eyes wide when you realized someone was literally pointing a gun at you.
"woah, dude, hold on." you began. "i'm sixteen-years-old, literally half your size! what am i gonna do? jump on your leg and bite it?"
yoongi, the unknown man to you, realized you were right. but instead of surrendering, he ordered you to shut up and sit on the kitchen floor right by the sink. "alright, do whatever you want with me, just don't hurt my family."
"i'm not gonna do anything to you or hurt your family." he grimaced, feeling slightly offended you suggested he'd be capable of harming a teenage girl and her family.
you raised your brows at him and nodded slightly, watching as he placed his only weapon on the kitchen island, at your arms reach by the way, and began to rudely rummage through your living room. you guessed he was looking for valuable things to resell or pawn. your eyes would glance at the gun every so often and you contemplated on whether or not to pull it on hum, but he was honestly too cute, so you didn't.
"hey, what's your name?"
you expected him to completely ignore you, but was proven wrong when you heard his deep voice. "yoongi."
"cool, i'm (y/n)."
"don't care."
"nice."
a few minutes that consisted of you drumming your fingers against the floor tiles, your occasional humming or whistling, and yoongi shushing you went by, and you honestly had never been so bored in your entire sixteen years of existence. and you once had to sit through mrs. smith's 3-hour-long algebra two lecture.
"you're not a professional robber, are you?" you questioned the man, who was currently occupied with your father's macbook.
"of course i am." he spat back, which made you tilt your head in confusion.
"really?" you pursed your plump lips. "because you're not even wearing a mask or gloves. which would be at the top of my list if i were to plan out a robbery."
he ripped his gaze from the laptop to glare at you. "shut up."
"i'm just sayin'." you raised your arms up in defense. you almost laughed when you saw his reaction, but managed to keep your composure. "i'd probably be a better robber than you."
fed up with your constant talking, he slammed the laptop shut and picked it up before walking over to you. "oh, yeah? how?" he challenged.
"well, for starters, i'd wear a mask and gloves, so if you were to get caught, they wouldn't be able to identify you. and you wouldn't leave any evidence at the crime scene." you held up your hands so that your palms were facing him. "like your fingerprints."
when he didn't respond, you glanced at his naked hand resting against your kitchen counter and nodded towards it. he followed your gaze and quickly removed it, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"i also wouldn't leave your only weapon right next to your hostage, who's, by the way, untied!" your hands formed two fists as you held them up sarcastically in the air, his eyes slowly narrowing at your annoying. but good explanation.
"oh, and last but not least, i wouldn't stand in full view of a security camera." you couldn't help but burst out laughing when his eyes widened and he quickly ducked as if he would no longer be recorded.
"pfft, i'm kidding. there is no security camera." you chuckled when he glared at you.
"no, wait, i'm not kidding, it's right there." you pointed towards the top of your fridge as his eyes followed your finger. "i don't think it works though. it's been like two years since i saw the alarm guys come up here."
yoongi sighed and stood up from his hiding spot. "you're a real piece of work, kid, you know that?" you hummed in response while shrugging your shoulders.
"i try." you weakly responded back.
you slightly tensed when he sat down next to you, but quickly relaxed.
"truth is," he began with a sigh. "this is my first time doing something like this. i've never even stolen as much as a candy bar from the store."
"and what made you take this drastic step?"
"desperation, i guess." he raised a hand in the air to run it through his mint colored hair before letting it fall down to his lap. "my sister is sick and i can't afford half her medications. i've looked endlessly for jobs, but it's always a dead end."
your eyes widened at his words, wondering if he actually meant to share this with you.
"well, i know that it's hard, but you need to keep trying." you glanced over at the vulnerable boy. "get out there and keep looking for a job so that you earn your money honorably. because although i don't know you at all, i do know that you'll regret it if you go through with this, and earn your money this way."
yoongi turned to look over at you and was about to ope his mouth when the sound of someone coming down the stairs interrupted him. you shot up and grabbed him by the air, quickly shoving him inside of the downstairs bathroom despite his protests. "shut up! do you wanna go to jail?" you angrily whispered, slamming the door close before he could respond.
you walked towards the table and sat down, acting as if you hadn't just formed a weird bond with the guy who had just broken into your house, and shoved him into the downstairs bathroom. you stared at your melted cereal, anxiously waiting for your mom to appear. you had learned to distinct your mother's footsteps from your father's. they sounded the same to everyone else, but you were the only one who could tell the slight difference.
"(y/n), what are you doing?" you looked up at the sound of your mother's voice and smiled slightly at her.
"eating."
"of course." she shook her head, reaching into the fridge for a water bottle. "keep sneaking into the kitchen at four a.m, and you'll end up rolling across the street like your cousin johanna. you're almost there." normally you would be unaffected by her words, but the fact that yoongi could hear her made you cringe.
"love you too, mom." you responded sarcastically. you wanted to let her know you could give a rat's ass about the way she talked to you, but it completely slipped through her mind.
she ignored you, choosing to take a sip from her bottle before placing it on the kitchen counter. the same spot that yoongi had left his fingerprints on.
"i have to go to the bathroom." she announced.
"no!" you immediately shot up from your seat, causing her to stop and turn to look at you. "um, it's clogged. sorry, i went in there."
your mother sighed and placed her middle and pointer fingers on either side of her temples. "god, (y/n), you can't even go to the bathroom without messing something up."
you pursed your lips at her, slightly raising your arms up in defense. "couldn't help myself."
"just go to sleep, okay? i have to leave earlier than expected tomorrow--today, and i want this house clean before i come back."
you slowly nodded at her. you could feel your palms begin to sweat anxiously, afraid yoongi might make a noise, and force your mother to investigate, which would then result in him sitting in the back of a flashing car, and you grounded for the rest of your life.
"your father is not going to be happy about that clogged toilet."
you tilted your head to the side, smiling at her. "i'll send him my regards."
your mother rolled her eyes at you before finally leaving. you waited until you heard her door slam shut to shove yoongi out of the bathroom.
"does she always talk to you like that?"
you waved a hand in front of him dismissively. "yeah, but it's whatever. i'm used to it."
"it's not whatever." yoongi pushed, much to your dismay. "you might be her kid, but she needs to respect you."
you both walked back to the kitchen, sitting down near the kitchen seat where you once were. you sighed, turning so that your whole body was facing him.
"there's no way that's gonna get through her thick skull. her's or my dad's! it's just—" you sighed, taking a break before continuing. "i don't understand! you have no idea how hard i tried my best to please them. i—i tried doing everything like they wanted. but no matter how hard i tried, it was never enough."
"so you just gave up." yoongi finished for you. you nodded your head, looking down at the ground when you felt tears beginning to build up in your eyes, but you did your best to contain them.
"yeah, 'cause what's the point? they tell me that i'm never gonna go anything or anyone in life, and i—" you quickly stopped yourself once you processed the words that were about to come out of your mouth, finally realizing what's been holding you back these past couple of years.
"you what?"
"i guess i believed them."
you and yoongi talked for hours in the comforts of each other's presence. it wasn't until you saw the daylight beginning to peak in through the blinds that you knew this comforting conversation would need to come to a stop.
"my mom's about to get up. you need to go."
yoongi nodded, heading towards the front door, but you stopped him, alerting him about the alarm system that goes off every time someone opens the door. you pointed towards the window he had originally broken into, causing him to blush a crimson red in apology.
"wait, aren't you gonna take anything?" you questioned in confusion.
he shook his head, smiling down at you. "nah, you're too nice."
before he could finally climb out through the window, he turned back to look at you. "are you gonna call the cops on me?"
you tilted your head to the side and placed a finger against yourself chin, pretending to think before dropping the act. "nah, you're too nice."
"but, hey! if i see your face on the news, i won't hesitate to visit you in prison, and beat you up!"
yoongi chuckled and shook his head. "don't worry about it, kid. this is the last time i pull something like this."
with that, he sent you one last smile before finally heading down the road, in search of a new more honorable path.
for years, you hadn't heard from yoongi again, and you'd be lying if you said you never thought of him again, wondering if he had managed to keep his promise.
but one night as you relaxed on your day off from constantly saving lives at your local hospital, you bumped into a familiar man, who just couldn't wait to tell you about the successful business he started one week after he broke into your house all those years ago.
masterlist
#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#min yoongi scenarios#bts suga#suga x reader#suga imagine#suga scenarios#suga smut#bts yoongi#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#jung hoseok#jeon jungkook#park jimin#bts#bts smut#bts imagines#bts imagine#min yoongi smut
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Summer of Smut Writing Challenge: Sweet and Sticky
Pairing: SLBP Totoyomi Hideyoshi x MC (OC)
Theme: Day 1 - Popsicle licking
Summary: A Modern AU where a lon
Rating: NC-17/Explicit (for semi-public graphic oral sex)
Word Count: Approx. 4.4k
Notes: Well since I’m back writing again, I decided it was time to participate in my first writing challenge brought to you by @voltage-vixen ! This was so much fun to come up with, and I’m excited to share what else I came up with!
Since this was my first fic, it was a bit longer than I initially intended, but I am proud of what I wrote. I recently started to love Hideyoshi, so I had to contribute to his tag on Ao3 LOL.
Also, I wrote this with my MC Nomi as the female protag. I was told to have fun with this and I’ve always wanted to share a fanfic starring my ocs so I’m starting with this!
Ao3: here
"I don't think I've been this exhausted since high school."
"Ah, then maybe I should take you out here more often."
Nomi toweled off the sweat on the back of her neck as she smiled at her boyfriend. She and Hideyoshi had just finished a bike ride following the shoreline for the past hour. Admittedly, she wasn't much of an athlete, but Hideyoshi was eager to show her the view of the beach and surrounding area from the top of the hill at the end of their trail, so she agreed. Now, her thighs burned like crazy as she walked her bike back to the rental station.
Despite his casual tone, Hideyoshi was clearly worried about her. He had asked her multiple times along the way if she wanted to turn back before they got to the end of the trail, but each time she insisted she'd be fine. He mentally scolded himself for not turning back anyway as she spent half an hour sprawled out on a bench when they got to the top. As retribution, he helped her reapply all of the sunscreen she sweated off before they headed back.
Now, as they chatted away, Nomi felt no hard feelings at all. She knew she would regret it the next morning, but any time spent away from school and with her sunshine boyfriend was time well spent in her book. The two were by the beach near the bike station when an unfamiliar voice called out to them.
"Excuse me? Miss?"
Nomi turned around to see an unassuming young man approaching her with a camera. He had a polite smile on his face as he waved at her. "Hi, I work for a local travel agency and we're trying to get some updated photos for our website. Would it be alright if I took some of you?"
Suddenly, very self-conscious, Nomi felt her cheeks heat up. "Oh, me? I don't know, I feel like I probably look pretty gross right now..."
"Oh don't worry about it! I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you looked the part," he looked towards Hideyoshi, "Would it make you feel better if he was in it with you?"
Nomi turned to Hideyoshi, her eyes full of uncertainty as she waited for his word. She couldn't read his expression behind his smile. "I think that would be great!" His tone was totally cheery, easing away any apprehension she initially had.
"Okay then I'll do it!" Nomi gave the photographer a smile and a nod. "Is there anything in particular you want?"
The photographer nodded and circled them around to their other side. "I was thinking you two smiling and pushing your bikes with the beach in the background."
They proceeded to cooperate with him and arranged themselves so they could get the ideal shot. After a few pictures of them smiling at the camera and holding their bikes up, the photographer suggested changing things up.
"Why don't you two uhh, look at each other. Really sell that you're in love!"
"Sell that we're in....ahahaha...." Nomi hadn't meant to laugh, but the concept of making it known that she loved Hideyoshi through a photo baffled her. What did that even mean? All she could do was laugh, something she often found herself doing when she was uncomfortable. When she looked up at Hideyoshi, he was smiling at her. This time, his affection for her shined through his amber eyes. Anytime he looked at her like that made her bashful, but remembering that they were in front of a camera made her almost double over in coy giggles. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."
"Oh, no, I got some great shots, thank you two so much!" The photographer didn't seem upset at all. In fact, he too had a smile on his face, as if their energy had affected him through the lens of this camera. "If you don't mind, could I have your information so I can send you release forms and the final photos?"
As they exchanged emails and business cards, Hideyoshi remained quite personable and friendly. But Nomi could sense that he wasn't all the way there. His eyes didn't have that gleam to them, but she couldn't think of a reason why he would be that way. She nodded and followed along with their conversation until the photographer gestured to her again.
"I'm honestly so glad you two agreed to do this. My client told me that cute girls tend to catch the most attention, so I'm sorry if I came on too strong."
"Cute? You're too kind," Nomi could feel her awkward side jumping back out again. She never knew how to take such compliments.
Hideyoshi merely shrugged, "I can't blame you at all, she's as cute as they come." He nodded to the photographer one last time, "We'll stay in touch then, yeah?"
The photographer smiled, "Of course! Enjoy the rest of your day," before he left, he turned back to them, "Oh, and by the way, on the other side of the bike station is a brand new artisanal popsicle stand. It's been a big hit since it opened and I highly recommend it!"
"Ooh, artisanal! Let's try them!" Nomi couldn't help but perk up at the mention of food. "That would be perfect, thank you so much!"
After parting ways with the photographer and paying for their bikes, the two got in an unexpectedly long line for popsicles. They had waited 15 minutes before Nomi's aesthetic decision to not wear a hat began to bite her in the ass....or.....on the forehead.
"Ahhh, I'm burning up. Will you watch my stuff while I go cool off really quickly?"
Hideyoshi maintained a neutral, yet positive face. "Sure thing. You wanted the blueberry peach jasmine, right?"
As she shimmied out of her shorts and shoes and took her hair out of its scrunchie, she kissed him on the cheek. "Yup, you know me so well! I'll be back soon, I need to go before I turn into a hash brown!" With that, she scurried off across the hot sand. Hideyoshi watched her go, and as an unfortunate result, watched the eyes of several other men -in the line and nearby- follow her too.
Without much else on her mind, Nomi made her way out to where the water was waist-deep and dipped her head beneath the surface. The water was cool enough to instantly soothe her sizzling scalp, yet not cool to the point that it would make her shiver if she stayed in for too long. Realizing this, she slicked her wet hair out of her face and waded in the water for a bit, riding along the gentle waves as the sun kissed her face. The warm breeze that had her sweating buckets earlier now provided a gently relaxing breeze.
Nomi found herself staying out there for a little longer than originally intended. The salty residue in her hair felt gritty to the touch as it dried; she submerged herself one last time for good measure and made her way back out of the surf.
Her thighs felt like they were tied to weights as she trudged out of the water. Her neck felt heavy as water trickled down the back of her thighs. When she set foot on the wet sand, she considered plopping down right where she stood, she was so tired. Maybe she really had underestimated how out of shape she was. Her head was facing the water when she heard it:
"Oh no, look out!"
Wha--? Bonk.
Something bounced off the back of her head. Her exhaustion caused her to stumble forward, so much so that she felt herself toppling forward when somebody caught her by her shoulders. When she caught her balance, she turned around to see a generically handsome stranger.
"I'm so sorry, are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm sorry for..." Nomi trailed off when she realized she had nothing to be sorry for. "I was...in the way, I guess?"
He smiled, "Nah, you're good, you're good." His eyes raked over her, quickly, but not fast enough so that she didn't notice. "Hey, actually have I seen you around here before?"
Great, now Nomi wasn't just uncomfortable, she also had no idea how to answer that. "...I...was just by the popsicle stand a few minutes ago....?"
"No, it must have been from somewhere else," he pondered, though his eyes wouldn't leave her.
Nomi's eyes darted around, nervous and confused, "I...don't know what to--"
"Nomi!"
She turned her head to see Hideyoshi standing with their popsicles in one hand and her shoes, shorts, and bag in the other. His lips were pressed into a firm line. "You ready to go?"
"Oh! Of course," The fact that he would let his irritation show so plainly on his face would normally make her want to solve whatever issue there was, but at that moment, she honestly just wanted to leave. She nodded at the guy as she started to walk towards Hideyoshi, "Uh, see you, then," she barely mumbled out.
His once charming enough smile had faded into a neutral expression and he waved once. "Likewise."
---
The two of them made their way off the beach and to the parking lot where their car was. There was a small storage shed at the top of a short set of stairs facing away from the shore and, more importantly, the sun. They sat, leisurely enjoying their chilled treats and talking about whatever. Nomi was glad things were normal between them, but she couldn't forget the look on his face back on the beach. Of course, he wasn't thrilled to see some stranger attempt to talk to her, but she sensed there was a little bit more to it than just that.
"So...how was the line?" she started, trying to figure out how to pry.
"It wasn't too bad. It sped up when I got to the front." He didn't give her much to work with.
"Oh, good..." she began, staring at the sand still clinging to her feet. "The water was really nice, we should have gone out there earlier."
Hideyoshi shrugged. "We could always come back tomorrow."
Nomi nodded, but carefully continued on, "And that guy--"
"Pear and ginger." Hideyoshi cut her off, but the way he did so made it seem like it wasn't totally on purpose. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to see him staring at what was left of his popsicle. "I would have never thought to mix those two flavors, let alone sell them as a popsicle."
Nomi let out a little laugh. "Yeah, they really know what they're doing with these flavors." Her eyes returned back to her feet. Well if he wasn't going to bring it up, then maybe it wasn't that big of a deal after all. She sighed and relaxed her shoulders before she set her focus back on the brilliant berry color of her own. "The bar was probably pretty low to begin with, but this is the best popsicle I've ever had." With that, she closed her lips around it, drinking down the juice that had melted while she was talking. It was thoroughly sweet, yet still so very fresh tasting. Nomi found herself making a small noise of satisfaction bubbling up from the back of her throat as she swallowed.
"You don't even notice it, don't you?"
"Hm?"
She turned back to him, surprised by his statement. He was looking right at her, his previous facade of content replaced with a rather wistful look in his eyes. What was going on in his mind?
"What do you mean?"
Hideyoshi smiled a little, "People really love you. There's something about you that draws them in, whether they know you or not," his smile deepened as he recounted a feature he loved about her. "And of course I understand why: it's because they can tell what a great person you are from the start."
Nomi felt her cheeks tingle from hearing such a compliment. "Hideyoshi, I..."
"But of course," he seemed to take a mildly self-deprecating tone, "when I see other people drawn to you, a totally irrational part of me wants you all to myself, even though I was drawn to you in the same way. But it's unfair to you to try and keep you like that." He ended it with a sigh, like he was letting out a breath he'd been holding, and put his popsicle back in his mouth.
There was a moment where they didn't speak, the sound of crashing waves and distant chatter filling the silence, before Nomi finally got her words together. "I don't think you should worry about that because you have me." After she got that out, she felt more confident in what she was saying. "You do have me all to yourself! Of course, I can't just never talk to anybody else ever again, but hey," she placed a reassuring hand on his knee, "I'm here with you. I'm having a great time with you. There's nobody else I'd rather spend a day like this with."
For a moment, he seemed surprised by her confession. When he smiled again, his eyes had that gleam to them that she loved. "Nomi..." He moved in closer to her on the step, their eyes locked. "Thank you for saying that." He reached out and placed his hand on her forearm, right above her elbow.
Nomi didn't think much of it as she continued on, "I mean it, I don't think there's a thing I wouldn't enjoy doing with you!"
Hideyoshi froze, but then he had a sly glint in his eyes. "Oh, anything?" he asked, lifting her forearm and leaning in towards her. "Well in that case..." Without waiting for any reaction from her, he stuck his tongue out and licked a trail up her arm all the way up past her wrist and into the center of her palm.
"H-Hey!" Nomi said, suddenly flustered to high heaven.
Hideyoshi didn't back away. His face was so close to hers that she could faintly feel his cool breath fan across her chin and neck when he spoke. "You let your popsicle melt in your hand that whole time." There was a chuckle in his voice as he winked at her.
"I--oh!" Nomi stammered when she looked at her hand. Sure enough, what was left of her popsicle was a smaller shape than she last recalled; the violet ice had a completely shiny exterior and a matching trail of liquid trailing down her fingers to pool at the point of her palm where Hideyoshi had just finished licking. "Darn it, I really liked this too," she stuck the remaining lump of ice between her lips to slurp off the excess melting, unable to stop the little satisfied moan she made at its impeccable marriage of flavors.
"Don't worry too much about it. We can always go get another of we have to," He seemed somewhat casual about her getting another one, but he was still right up near her face and his eyes were now focused towards her stained lips. "You know, I saw that guy on the beach throw that ball at you."
Her eyes widened, but his closeness kept her from having any more of a reaction. "He did? What for?"
His thumb was rubbing a small, soothing circle on her wrist, though it only made her heartbeat pick up. "Probably so he'd have an excuse to talk to you."
Nomi's eyes darted side to side, "What would he have possibly wanted with me?"
Hideyoshi's smile was unmistakably amorous by then. "I think I have an idea."
Slowly and gently, he lifted his hand holding his popsicle to her mouth. Her lips were already parted enough for the tip of the wooden stick poking out to slip between them. She let out a surprised "Hmm?" when she felt the cold wetness of the ice part them further so it could slide across her tongue. Her eyes locked with his again. She let out another instinctive moan as the sweetness of pear and tang of ginger enveloped her tongue. Encouraged by her reaction, he Slowly dragged it out of her mouth before pushing it back in. He watched her wide, deep blue eyes stare back at him, flustered, but nevertheless wanting and curious. He ran the popsicle across her tongue like that, completely enchanted by the visual, until a small trail of its juice dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin. Without hesitation, he took the popsicle out of her mouth and licked up the trail just as he did on her arm until he reached her lips, which he claimed in a passionate and skillful kiss.
Nomi made yet another surprised noise, but she accepted the kiss with her open mouth. Their cold lips came together fervently, as if in an attempt to warm each other back up. Hideyoshi had her back up against the railing, so she turned her whole body towards him for a more comfortable position. From there, she returned his kiss in full force, grasping at the back of his tank.
"Is this what he wanted?" she breathed when they parted for air. She took the rest of her popsicle and sucked down the slushy remainder before tossing the stick aside.
"Hells yes," he said, his voice already husky. His lips traveled down to his neck while his hands on her hips travelled upward until his thumbs and index fingers hooked under the strings of her bikini. Her head fell back against the wooden poles behind her, giving him better access to the column of her neck. She had been so abruptly aroused that she didn't even consider that they were out by a public beach during the middle of the day; they had been alone by the parking lot for so long it didn't seem like an issue. She didn't even feel particularly exposed when he pulled the triangles of her top aside to gently graze one of her breasts with his teeth.
"Hideyoshi!" she gasped, tugging on his shirt in a bid to get his attention.
He looked up at her from where he was nibbling at her tan lines. "Nomi?"
She found herself choking on her words. She was never really any good at voicing her desires. "There's...something I want to do, actually."
His eyes were burning with desire, and now intrigue, "Oh? And what is that?"
"Um..." she glanced aside to the top of the stairs where the last bit of his popsicle was now melting into a puddle on a wooden plank. "I...the popsicle..."
He was rolling one of her nipples beneath his thumb, "What about the popsicle?"
"Mmn--! I..." Her head was spinning with need, but she took a breath and finally got it out. "I...want to do that again. With you."
His hands toying with her paused. His eyes were equally lustful and serious. "Is that what you really want?"
Nomi nodded, "Yes, I really want to do it," she placed a hand over his, "I want you to know that I'm all yours."
He couldn't help but smile at her sentiment. "You're so cute, you don't even know," he said, getting up off of her and sitting upright on the stairs with his legs spread. "Come here."
On clumsy legs, Nomi got up, not even adjusting her top as she positioned herself on her knees on a lower step. She was a little unsure of what exactly he wanted her to do, so she sat awkwardly, waiting for further instruction.
Hideyoshi took her scrunchie off of her wrist so he could carefully tie her hair back out of her face. The way he lovingly combed through her hair -though it was still damp from earlier- eased her anxious excitement and only made her want it more. He took her hands and slid them up his thighs until they reached the waistband of his pants. "Do you want to do it?
Nomi nodded. She appreciated him asking her. They had done this a few times before but she always felt clueless when it came to starting anything. The fact that she even initiated this, in public or not, must have been baffling to both of them.
She hooked her fingers beneath his shorts and the two of them cooperated to shimmy them down just enough to release himself. He was already half hard, she felt like a novice for not having noticed any earlier. Encouraged by his gentle hand in her hair, she started giving him little licks along the shaft until she finally got the gumption to put him in her mouth. Very carefully, she wrapped her lips around the tip, gently sucking and lapping at it with her tongue until she heard him sigh.
After releasing him from her mouth with a wet smacking sound, she started to work her tongue along the sides of his shaft, getting it wet as her mouth continued to water. His hands were back to pushing her hair behind her back, keeping her long ponytail from tumbling down over her shoulders so he had a perfect view of her. She realized her hands were tightly grasping his shorts when he took one of them and placed it around the base.
"Keep going," his voice was low and heady, just quiet enough so she could hear him while the waves crashing in the background protected them from any potential listeners.
Nomi was more than eager to do so. She took him into her mouth again, this time, relaxing her tongue and bobbing her head back and forth on him until she could fit most of him in her mouth. It was exhilarating feeling him get harder and harder with each stroke of her tongue. She was salivating more than she would have liked to admit, so she pulled back and sneakily leaned to the side of his knee to let the excess pour out. She wouldn't have felt good ruining his shorts like this.
"Haha...you're so cute, Nomi," he was laughing, but his voice was so breathy it made her ache. "You don't have to do that."
Nomi glanced up, then hid her face in her palm. "Ah, I'm sorry!" she said meekly, "I'm so bad at this..."
"Oh no, you're doing great," Hideyoshi assured her. "Here," he lowered his shorts so they were at his ankles, "so you don't have to worry about that."
"Alright then...here I go..." she wanted to kick herself for that last part. To avoid any further embarrassment, she licked a bold stripe up the top of his shaft before sucking it back into her mouth and keeping her jaw loose.
"Mmm...Nomi," he groaned under his breath as she worked. He moved her hand to cup his balls so he could hold himself in her mouth. She let out a cute little moan, similar to the one she made when she was enjoying her popsicle, once she finally got him all the way to the back of her throat. She kept him there for as long as she could until she pulled back to take a breath. He held her head at the back so she wouldn't pull too far away and as a result, her excess drool slipped out over his head, making him even slicker.
He was now fully erect in her mouth. She could taste his precum against her tongue, which made her sigh around him. As she was getting more and more into it, she found herself hooking her finger in flyaway hair that kept getting in her mouth. "I've got you," Hideyoshi whispered, pushing her hair back yet again. This time, his hands stayed at the back of her head underneath her ponytail. "Is it alright if I start moving?"
"Ah-huh," was all she could say with his dick in her mouth, but it was all the confirmation he needed. He started to gently thrust himself in and out, revelling in the feeling of her warm, wet tongue on him. She looked up at him and he thought that sight might have stopped his heart. She accepted him so openly, yet there was a certain innocence to the look in her eyes. If she felt this good now, he could only imagine the hell she could raise once she got more experience.
He kept moving until her eyebrows pinched together and she sputtered and around him. He let go of her head and pulled himself from her, stroking at the base. "Sorry, was that too much?"
Nomi wiped her wet chin with the back of her hand as she shook her head. "No, I'm okay."
He swept his fingers underneath her chin, "Then is it alright if I touch you too?"
Nomi smiled provocatively, "I would love that, please do." When she went back down on him, she felt the solid warmth of his torso on the back of her head. She undid the button of her shorts so he could slide inside her bikini bottoms from the back. His skillful digits made quick work of her. She was already so turned on, that he had her thighs shaking as he fucked her with two fingers. She moaned and moaned around him, to the point where she forgot she was supposed to be pleasing him.
"Actually, can you stop? It's too distracting!" she giggled when she came up for air. By then, she was fully stroking him with her hand, getting the full range of motion out of her wrist.
"Ah...of course," he sounded positively wrecked then, but he did as asked. But before Nomi could get fully into it, she was being pulled into a wet, fierce kiss.
"Hideyoshi?!" she asked, her voice throaty and shocked.
"How about we finish this in the car, yeah?" he whispered. He had his normal flirty smile on, but he looked positively wrecked. "I'd prefer there to be no sand where I lie you on your back."
She must have looked the same, though, "That would be perfect."
And so, they haphazardly made themselves decent so they could run back to their car. After they finished fucking, they went back to the same popsicle stand for seconds, as there were other flavors Nomi wished to try. They sat in the same spot, got turned on by the memory of what happened earlier, and went back to their car for another round. They continued this loop until they were the only two people on the beach and he really did have her all himself.
#slbp fanfic#summer of smut#summer of smut writing challenge#slbp hideyoshi#my writing#my art#MC: Nomi
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Wally West: One
A/N: This was a detour from what I was doing. Oops.
Warnings: None
>>>>——————————>
"M'gann?"
"Yes."
"The cute alien chic?" You thought of the girl, clarifying it was indeed the correct one.
"Yes."
"And you're sure this one is the one because you said that 3 girls ago."
"Yes... I mean no, I don’t know - look can you please help me (Y/n)." Wally playfully pleaded with you like he’d done on multiple occaisions prior to this and you could only shrug in defeat.
"Sure but my conditions remain the same."
"I know, no bragging, pizza on me, you pick the film for the next 3 weeks."
"And?" You mockingly coaxed, knowing how much the next particular demand pained him which was evident in his deadpan but reluctant tone.
"And no mocking your dates."
"Good."
.
The following day you’d stategically accompanied Kid Flash on a visit to Mount Justice, the sight of you two together was no surprise to Robin, Aqualad nor Speedy though the remainder were intrigued by the mysterious stranger so Wally proudly made introductions.
"Hey M'gann, Conner, this is (Y/n)."
"Ah, this is who you love so much to talk about!" The Martian beamed grasping your hands as you shot a glare to a flustered Wally, the guy sheepishly running a hand through his strands.
"Is this your... girlfriend?" Superboy casually inquired after thinking of the correct terminology, yet again leaving you to wonder what your friend has been saying about you in your absence - also considering the implication this’d have on your scheme.
"No! Definitely not! I'm totally single, just because I've told you about (Y/n) doesn't mean we're dating. We're not dating by the way." Wally briskly recovered, blush fading as he emphasised his point specifically for the sake of M'gann.
"Nice to meet you both. Ah Kaldur!" You lit up once seeing the Atlantean, immediately embracing his form just as he did to you in hopes of catching up with him.
"It's been a while (Y/n), you look well."
"(Y/n) is here? Looking as lovely as ever, surprised you're still hanging with Wally though, you're way out of his league." Robin proudly joked as he walked toward you, genuinely happy to see you again and a girl called Artemis agreed with him despite only recently learning your name - supposedly teasing Wally was a commodity amount the Team.
"I'm here for training, Canary said she'd activated the sparring platform so I wanted to test it." With a content shrug you set your plan in motion, gesturing over to the designated area as indication.
Now you were very well trained, the team knew that so it wasn't a surprise when every single member landed with a 'FAIL' until Wally challenged your winning streak. You went two rounds, the first you played to his strengths allowing him to take you down with his speed and received the only 'PASS' of the day. M'gann cheered, flying over with questions and compliments whilst you comfortably sat up and proudly watched Wally bask in the desired attention. Meanwhile got to your feet, brushing yourself only to be met with a smirking Robin beside your figure.
"I know what you're doing and you are good at it, but I don't think it's gonna work."
"Does it ever work with Wally? He's never met a girl he's really caught deep feelings for but I'm only in it for the free food he's promised me." Came your knowing reply, softly smirking at Robin who seemed to disagree but accepted your justification nonetheless.
"There is one y'know..."
"Hey (Y/n) ready to get your ass whooped by the best there is? Fastest kid alive babe." The speedster smugly gained your deadly gaze, his boasting violating the agreement you’d struck less than 24 hours ago and thus not giving you a chance for Robin to elaborate like you’d wished.
This time you would not allow him a victory, like the others you took him out with a mischievous smile and then crouched over his waist whilst he leaned up on his elbows to meet you.
"No. Bragging." You raised a brow, tilting his chin towards you as you punctuated each word as a reminder before heading out. Although your plan had still succeeded to a degree, you walked backwards finding the Martian kneeling down to your friend inquiring about his condition as you winked at him - Wally seemingly impressed with your antics, as he usually was whenever he roped you into these scenarios.
.
You retained your attentive skills, even talking him up to M'gann but it became painfully obvious that her romantic affections were reserved for a certain clone which left you disappointed albeit pleased for her. Now, you had to break the news to Wally - you'd considered such measures while sitting against the wall in one of the Mountains many hallways bouncing a ball off of the other side as a form of contemplation.
Soon enough your felt a familiar comforting presence beside you, catching the ball and initiating a harmless game between the two of you.
"What's on your mind?" Wally knew you incredibly well, narrowing down I even the smallest quirks and he'd use that to his advantage.
"Nothing, but I'm afraid you might have to give up on M'gann."
"I know. Supes right?" He didn't seemed phased by your sympathetic disclosure, which surprised you slightly due to how long he’d spent gushing over the girl.
"Yeah, sorry West."
"It's alright. Thanks for trying, I'll still get you that pizza."
"But I didn't...?" His response was unexpected, leaving you somewhat speechless but he soon continued with conversation before you could finish, no evidence of heartbreak to be seen.
"That Dan guy you went out with? (Y/n) c'mon you're stunning, and he didn't even offer to pay the full check at the coffee shop. You deserve so much better, his flirting game was awful too." Wally reminisced on the details you’d cruelly given knowing he wouldn’t able to comment due to you deal, although such a thing was now void and you’d regretted that decision. Yet part of you enjoyed his mocking support.
"So I get the pizza but have to suffer your judgements for not getting you a date? I'm sure you have something to say about Jackson too." You threw your head back with an exaggerated sigh, Wally laughing as he replied.
"Don't get me started..."
.
How unaffected Wally seemed about the let down still puzzled you, although you believed something else must've attained his focus - not that you had any indication of what it was as you sat flicking through the channels.
"So... there's another girl." There it is.
"Dude, are you kidding me? Give yourself a month at least."
"No this one is the one, I know it." His tone was oddly confident compared to his usual dilemmas regarding that topic which automatically gained your full attention.
"Uh Huh. And when did you meet her? Love at first sight or whatever?"
"I've known her longer than a few days give me some credit here. But it wasn't at first sight, I didn't even notice it was happening or rather happened..." Wally's point was certainly more realistic in comparison and he was being truthful - again, maybe this peculiar circumstance held promise.
"You know my terms an-" You simply shrugged, assuming he wanted your assistance once more which dulled your growing investment slightly.
"No, not for this one."
"Hot damn, this woman must be special. Tell me everything!" That decision shocked you and it was evident in your tone, you excitedly encouraged him to indulge your lowkey interrogation since he never turned down your assistance.
"Yes she definitely is, but I don't know what to do for her y'know?"
"Romantic restaurant? Roses? Tell her over a romantic dinner." You listed things instantly, barely stopping for a breather.
"Would you want all that though?" Wally considered your ideas, furrowing his brows before he asked his question even if his posture radiated nervousness despite the confident facade he’d attempted to convey.
"Hah, no way! Honestly I'd love a chill night in, order a take out, put on a good series and just enjoy each other's company. I mean roses are nice too but I want to know my date likes me enough to relax and be themselves - you can't really do that in a fancy restaurant. Anyway, you should probably find out what this girl likes first." You simply smiled, giving him an honest opinion and advice for you felt he'd finally found someone more than just a crush to him.
"I guess..."
It was silent for a moment until familiar words echoed in your mind 'There is one y'know...' and instantly you stood up with your realisation.
"I know who it is!"
"What?! How?!" Wally snapped to with concern evident in his expression like a deer in headlights, unbeknownst to you why that was but he too halted in his tracks.
"Dick told me, I don't believe it Wally - it's great!" Now you had Artemis in your head, they'd hated one another at first so it certainly made sense that he'd grown to like her. They'd also kissed at New Years Eve or so you'd heard.
"Robin told you I liked you?! Are you kidding? He only knows because I thought he had a crush on you." That answer caught you off guard, practically disintegrating your ability to form a coherent sentence or even think straight due to the abruptness of it.
"Wait me? I didn't, um, I can't, since when? All the times I've been helping you with girls I... I..."
"Wait you didn't know? Okay stay there, I'm doing this again!" Wally held his hands out in defence, soon disappearing leaving you standing alone with your thoughts. A dangerous thing really.
Did you even have feelings for him? Quite possibly, that would explain why you occasionally compared dates to him and why you were always so willing to help him find his happiness but surely you wouldn't have suppressed them? It was so confusing.
Within a minute he appeared before you, a single red rose in hand and sheepish smile.
"I'm late I know that but there's no pressure for you. This is not how I expected you to find out, I aimed to flirt with you and only you before making a move so it wasn't thrown on you so suddenly but here we are. Guess I'm not great with girls without you."
With a mischievous grin, you pulled him close by his red hoodie and gently met his lips with your own and you couldn't deny how right it felt - an action you’d hope would quell the warring emotions. You pulled apart, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours on his shoulders.
"You're actually quite adequate, I'm just as surprised as you are."
"Oh you're hilarious." He matched your witty sarcasm, but still you find his happiness intoxicating.
"Can we, um could we take things slow? I know that's ironic to ask the fastest kid alive but please."
"I'd slow down for you, I want to take my time in every moment I get so it won't be a problem (Y/n). I promise." Despite the trace of concern in your voice, Wally was reassuring and sincere with his words so you both felt comfortable in whatever situation you'd crafted.
"So, I assume you won't be mocking my dates anymore."
"I think every date you'll have from now on is gonna be too great for me judge. Ah too bad, I know how much you loved me doing that." The speedster playfully responded with a knowingly satisfied smirk to which you threw him an 'are you serious?' expression.
Later, as you both sat comfortably on Wallys' bed eating pizza whilst a film played in the background, you received simultaneous texts from none other than Dick Grayson - his smugness translated even in a message.
[Dickiebird: Told you so.]
#wally west#wally west x reader#wally west imagine#kid flash#kid flash x reader#kid flash imagine#dc#dc imagine
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This may or may not get personal. Are you ready? Ya’ll know I already share quite a bit in my survey answers, so.
How old are you turning on your next birthday? 32. D:
Do you have a favourite film, if so, what is it and why? I have many. Hard to choose just one favorite, there’s a lot of great films.
When was the last time you had sex? Never.
Did you want it, or did the other person want it?
Have you ever had that one friend who complained about everything? I have. It got quite exhausting.
Were you ever that friend? I really try not to be a complainer and keep a lot of it to myself. At least to other people, ha I complain a lot in surveys and Twitter. That’s different, though, it’s complaining to the void.
What is the next film you want to see in the theaters? So many movies were supposed to come out that I wanted to see, but who knows when theaters will be able to safely open back up. A lot of movie release dates keep getting pushed back as well, so there wouldn’t be too many movies to see right now anyway.
Be honest, did Fifty Shades of Grey arouse you in any way? I can’t believe I read that series, first of all. Second of all, I will admit to feeling some type of way at times :X I saw the first movie and it was so cringe that I didn’t see the others.
What does your sibling(s) call you? Steph.
Do you believe in God or Fate or neither? I believe in God.
Do you have any close friends that are the opposite sex that your significant other dislikes? I don't have a significant other or friends, so no problem there.
Do you honestly believe everything happens for a reason? Why or why not? I do.
Did you ever play Truth or Dare? Yeah.
If so, what was the worse thing that has happened because of it? I never chose dare, so nothing. The few times I’ve played didn’t last long either, so not much happened anyway. It got old quickly.
Ever played seven minutes in heaven? No.
Do you believe in reincarnation? Why or why not? No.
The Hunger Games or The Maze Runner? The Hunger Games. I never read or saw The Maze Runner.
Have you ever been to Australia? No.
If not, would you like to go? Sure.
To what state would you like to go in Australia? Hmm. Perhaps Queensland or New South Wales.
What about America, have you ever been? I’m American.
If not, would you like to go to America?
To what state would you like to go in America? There’s several states I’d like to visit, one being New York.
Has there ever been a time you were scared of a stranger? Yes. I’ve felt uncomfortable in public situations where I got bad vibes or sensed something bad.
Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? No.
Did/do you believe them? --
Have you ever had a beer bong? No.
What about a bong? No.
Do you even smoke? Not anymore, but I did a few times in my early 20s.
Is anything annoying you right now? Not at the current moment.
Any friends who are constantly venting about their boyfriend?
Have you ever been ice-skating? Nope.
Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? I love the sound of rain, but I always have earphones in at night so I wouldn’t hear it.
Have you ever seen an albino person, in person? Yes.
Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? No.
Do you obsessively apply lip-gloss or lip balm? Nope. I should apply it at least sometimes because my lips do get dry often.
Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? Nah.
Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? EW, yes.
When you can tell that someone’s lying, do you call them out on it? Ehhh, it depends.
Have you ever hallucinated? No.
How are you? Been feeling under the weather the past week.
What would you say is your strongest felt emotion right now? I just feel meh.
Have you ever felt abandoned? Yes.
Where are you? I’m in my room.
Have you ever wished on a shooting star? No. I’ve never even seen one.
Did it come true?
Are you talking to anyone at the moment? Nope.
What’s been the worst part of this day? Today was okay.
Do you have trust issues? No. My issue is that I just have a hard time opening up to people and expressing myself. I don’t like the focus and attention on me and talking about myself, despite what you might think since I do a lot of that in surveys. But to me it’s like writing in a diary or shouting into the void even though people obviously read and see my answers. However, I’m not talking to someone and expressing my feelings and thoughts face to face and getting a response (though sometimes people comment on something I said, but you get what I mean) or seeing their reaction or anything. It’s different.
Have you ever found an arrow head? No.
Who is with you? My family is home, but they’re all in their rooms asleep.
What can you not stop thinking about? A lot of things. My mind is a jumbled mess. Stuff plays on a loop.
Is there anything you want or need right now? I’m hungry, but I don’t want to make my nightly bowl of ramen quite yet. I have a schedule I like to keep, so I make it around the same time every night. I still have like an hour and a half to wait.
Do have faith in yourself? No. :/
What about your goals? I don’t really have any. :/
Who last encouraged you to better yourself? My family has always been encouraging and supportive and want the best for me.
Do you forgive easily? I do.
What has changed about you recently? Nothing. That’s the problem.
Anything your excited about or looking forward to? No. I’m sad that last year around this time my family and I were planning our trip to Disneyland and we were super excited. It was fun having something like that to look forward to. This year there isn’t anything.
Have you ever been called a slut or whore? Just jokingly with friends.
What was the last thing that aggravated you? Mehh. I just get in these moody and irritable moods a lot for seemingly no reason and because of that anything can irritate me.
In what part of your life so far, have you learnt the most about yourself? I have in some ways these past few years. Are you more sad or happy right now? Sad.
Have you ever been in a fist fight? Nope.
Are you comfortable? I’m alright.
Who do you miss? My loved ones who have passed.
Are things easier said than done? That’s true for a lot of things.
What aggravates you most about people in general? The close mindedness and people just following along with the herd without looking into things themselves and forming their own opinions. Too many people just go along with stuff and they don’t seem to know what’s really going on. So much misinformation gets spread that way, too.
Are your ears pierced? Yeah, my earlobes are.
What did you last say out loud? “Goodnight.”
What are you waiting on? I’m waiting to make my ramen.
What’s on the t.v. at the moment? King of Queens.
Do you like anything about being angry? No? It’s not a pleasant feeling.
Who did you last hug? My mom.
Did you have a summer job this year? I’ve never had a summer job. Or a job, ever.
What do you smell right now? Nothing at the moment.
Where do you wish you were? I’m fine where I’m at.
The last thing you did before this? My mom and I caught up on one of our shows we watch.
Do you get surprises often? No.
Name a crime you have committed? Downloaded music and movies. I’m real rebel.
Do you tell people when they get on your nerves? I have when it was my brother, but typically no I don’t.
Do you have any regrets? I have many. :/
Are your feelings hurt easily? I’m sensitive. Sometimes more than other times.
What is your stance on keeping gifts or mementos from past relationships? I’m someone who keeps stuff like that.
Have you ever hooked up with someone that one of your close friends had already dated or hooked up with? Nope.
Have you ever disowned/been disowned by a family member? No.
What's the most expensive piece of clothing you have? Did you buy it yourself? My Adidas tracksuits and sweatshirts that were gifted to me from my parents.
What brings out the best in you? Hmm.
Who is your closest platonic friend of the opposite sex?
Have you ever taken a break in a relationship with the intention of getting back together? How did it go? No, I haven’t been in that situation.
When was the last time you were ill? I feel crappy a lot of the time, but the last time I was sick-sick was back in October.
How do you think your first relationship shaped who you are as a partner now? I haven’t had a real relationship to be honest. At 31 years old and very little experience with that kind of thing, that certainly will play a role if I do ever have a relationship.
What is the worst thing you've done to another person? I completely withdrew and distanced myself from my friends a few years ago. I’m such a shitty person.
Who is your favourite protagonist of the same sex? Leslie Knope or Lorelai Gilmore. <<< Lorelai Gilmore is definitely one of mine, too. I have many favorites, though.
Were you popular in high school? What was your reputation like? Haha no, not at all.
Have you ever sent someone naked pictures? No.
What app needs to be invented ASAP? I don’t know. There seems to be an app for everything.
Have you named any of your posessions? Stuff like my stuffed animals.
Have you always known your sexual orientation or did something happen to make you realize it? It wasn’t something I thought about until I started getting into boys and having crushes, which was when I was in the 3rd grade.
What make up do you wear on a regular basis? I don’t wear makeup anymore.
What was the hardest part of your last break up? When Joseph decided he was done with whatever it was we had going on and that he didn’t feel the same way I did and had no interest in being in an actual relationship with me, I took it very hard because I had been very clear and open with my feelings and that was very hard for me to do. I laid it all out there, mustering up the courage to do so, and got rejected. He completely played and used me, knowing how I felt, and it hurt. A lot.
What brought you out of the hardest period in your life? I’m still going through it. These past few years have really done a number on me.
Have you ever deleted your Facebook or other social media? Nope.
Have you ever lost or gained weight very quickly? What happened? I became underweight a few years ago due to health reasons and I haven’t been able to gain weight and get back to a healthy weight.
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