#if you don't frequent coffee shops other take-out places that ask for names work also | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mmmleckerlecker · 3 years ago

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Okay, this is super random, and doesn't really align with the whole I-wanna-marry-Lecker superarc, but hear me out, okay?

Super possessive preds that jealously guard the prey that they snatch up, like a dragon protecting its hoard of gold and jewels. They'll find a prey they like, stealthily stalk them, and then devour them in a secluded space, away from prying eyes. The pred will bring their prey back to their place, making sure they hold back the urge to digest the poor, squirming person in their belly, and wait until they tire themselves out / fall asleep. Now is the pred's time to act; they regurgitate their prey, slowly so as not to wake / startle them, then clean them up, get them into a clean set of clothes, and bring them to bed, curling up around their sleeping prey as they drift off to sleep themselves.

The pred awakens to find their prey has also been roused from sleep, fearful and trembling in the pred's arms. Half asleep, they pull their prey closer to their chest, gently rubbing their back, nuzzling the prey's neck and taking in their scent; it's sweet, warm, and comforting, like if love had a smell. They take long, deep breaths, basking in this divine moment that seemed to last for eternity.

Then, the pred speaks; three words, three powerful words, one's that seal the prey's fate forever:

"Mine... all mine."

The pred takes their prey everywhere. To their favorite coffee shop, to work, to a friend's house, and to a little restaurant for dinner the next night, to name a few. The pred is constantly on the watch, looking out for other potential preds who wouldn't hesitate to steal their little prey away from them, pulling them closer whenever the pred feels their prey is in danger of being pulled away and devoured. Meanwhile, the prey is doing everything in their power to escape from their pred, often forcing the pred to tightly grip the prey's forearm to keep them from running off, making the couple look like a exasperated mother with frayed nerves and a mischievous child at odds with each other.

Often times, the pred will consume their prey as a punishment for trying to escape too frequently. Usually, the pred does this in places with lockable doors, like bathroom stalls or changing rooms at clothing stores when in public, leading to discomfort on both sides.

Over time, the prey slowly warms up to the pred, their fear of being digested alive gradually leaving them as they spend more quality time with their pred, even asking to be consumed once or twice, knowing that the pred enjoys having them curled up in their stomach, weighing them down, and loving the way that the walls of the pred's stomach gently contract around their body, the warm atmosphere almost enough to put the prey to sleep in mere minutes. They get used to the way the pred pulls them close when out in public, glaring daggers at anyone who gets remotely close to them and their prey.

"You're my precious little gem, sweetheart." They'd say.

"I can't afford to lose you; it'd kill me to see you hurt, or worse..." But they would never say what would be worse, although the prey had figured it out by then; their pred was afraid of losing them to another pred, one who is significantly less warm and friendly, and a lot more likely to digest them.

And that fateful day arrived, on which the prey would be dragged away from their pred by another, much more cruel predator. Our pred had been invited to hang out with a few friends of theirs, and, naturally, they had to bring their prey with them.

"I don't feel like you'll be safe at home, something might go wrong..." the pred said, before leaving the house with their prey.

"What," the prey retorted, slightly annoyed, but mostly amused by their pred's statement, "d'you think I'm gonna blow up the house, or something?"

"No, it's just... preds tend to be a lot more... active, around this time of year. They'll do ANYTHING to get their hands, and mouth, on prey like you. I'm afraid someone'll try to break into the house to get at you, and I won't be there to... to save you."

The prey pondered this for a little while, eventually giving in to the pained and nervous looks their pred was giving them. Both pred and prey head over to and climb into their car, driving off in the direction of the place they were meant to meet up with the pred's friends.

Turns out, the place in question is a small brewery-and-bar place that was nearly packed with people. Our pred was never much of a drinker, however, evidently their friends had picked up the habit, and decided on this place. Our pred and prey quickly exit their car, trying to get inside before more people show up to add to the already long line of people with the same goal in mind. Once they are inside, our pred and prey begin searching around for the pred's friends, desperate to see a familiar face, one that isn't staring at the odd couple. Our pred hugs their prey to their chest tightly, keenly aware of the looks they are getting from the bar's patrons. Mercifully, the pred's friends aren't too far away, as the pred spots them and makes a beeline straight for them, itching to sit down and keep their eyes on their prey the whole time while their friends partied and made fools of themselves. The pred takes a seat in the booth, plops their prey on their lap, and starts a conversation with the nearest one of their friends, who, turns out, organized the whole thing.

Hours go by, and our prey is getting bored and tired of the dry talk between their pred and their friend. They tell their pred that they're off to use the bathroom, slide off their lap, and wander around looking for the restrooms. Eventually, our prey finds them, and enters, virtually unnoticed by all except one person, who silently slips in after them. Our prey is making their way towards the nearest stall when a pair of big, strong hands grab them from behind, one wrapped around their waist, the other cupped over our prey's mouth to stifle their yell.

Our prey began to struggle and thrash, desperate to get away from this mysterious person.

"My, my, what a feisty little treat we have here!" the person says, sending waves of terror rolling through our prey.

Only a pred teasing their prey could manage to invoke such fear with such a phrase.

Our prey freezes, completely terrified of this person who they now highly suspect is a pred, one who doesn't seem too interested in letting their prey go once they've curled up in their belly.

"Hmmmm, that's odd," the pred remarks, "My usual prey squirm a lot more after I say something like that. Oh well, better make this quick, then!"

And just as the pred is lowering their maw to envelop our prey's head, our pred slams the bathroom door open, a look of cold fury on their face as they tackle the hostile pred to the floor and away from our prey. The hostile pred, surprised by this attack, gets back up on their feet and aims their fist at our pred's face. Our pred catches the blow mid-air, and out of pure, protective instinct, shoves it into their maw. The other pred, now completely terrified and confused by this situation, begins flailing around, desperately trying to free their rapidly disappearing forearm from our pred's maw.

But our pred, lost in the ecstasy of consuming another being, is not so easily shaken off; they grab the other pred's remaining arm and stuffs it in with the other one, dragging the other pred's head and shoulders in with it. In mere moments, it's all over. The other pred is now completely sealed away inside our pred, barely able to move. Our pred and prey exchange glances, barely able to comprehend what just happened. Our prey quietly walks over to our pred, helps them to their feet, walks them out of the bar, and eases them into the backseat of their car. Our prey gets in the driver seat and lays back, still trying to process what happened, when our pred let's out a gasp of pain. Our prey whips around, and locks eyes with our pred. They exchange looks that both say the same thing: we need to get home.

Now.

Our prey starts the car, drives away, and doesn't look back. Everything seems blurred as our pred and prey make their way home; the drive on the way, parking the car in the driveway, our prey lifting our pred out of the backseat, unlocking the door to the house and helping our pred through it. Only when both pred and prey are snuggled up together in bed does reality set in. Our pred is holding our prey tightly against their bloated stomach, which by now had gone still.

"It's so warm and soft," our prey thinks sleepily, the adrenaline from nearly being devoured and digested alive just now wearing off. Just before drifting off to sleep, our prey hears our pred say something. Something they swore sounded like this:

"I won't let them hurt you. You're safe, now. You're mine... all mine..."

~~~--_--~~~

Wow, that got a bit rant-y, sorry about that! ^_^;

Hope this long-ass story was okay (I did kinda botch it at the end, but whatever, it's fine).

😳😳😳 d damn anon. okay go off. this long ass story was 100% okay.

imma be real. god was I ready for the prey to get consumed by the other pred and for the despair of the main pred losing their precious prey. maybe tracking down the other pred later and consuming them for revenge… but this ending is also good. intrigued if the two of them start making a habit of it. the prey really did seem to like their pred with a full belly 🤔🤔🤔

#asks #v.ore #soft vore #g/t vore #size difference vore #same size vore #idk kinda up to interpretation #fatal vore #non fatal vore #role reversal vore #oral vore #unwilling prey #semi willing prey #willing pred #protective pred #possessive pred

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kirishimaswife2819 · 4 years ago

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This is my very 1st request, I hope you won't have trouble answering it! May I ask for headcanons of Bakugou, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kirishima in a Coffee Shop!AU? I don't mind if they own coffee houses, are baristas or frequent customers! Thank you so much for heeding my petition, have a nice day and take care!

Them in a Coffee Shop AU (+Quirkless AU) || Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, and Todoroki

Masterlist 1 || Masterlist 2

↠Author’s Note: Hi! I also made this a quirkless AU so it made more sense with the story. Anyway, thanks for requesting! I hope this okay and I hope you like it. -Danielle <3

↠Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, and Shoto Todoroki x Reader

↠Summary: Coffee shop AU with Izuku, Katsuki, Eijiro, and Shoto

↠Genre: Fluff

↠Word Count: 2.1k

↠Warnings: None

↠Notes: Idrk know how coffee shop hours work, so just pretend like they work however I said, okay?, also y/o=your order

Izuku Midoriya:

Izuku works at a fairly popular coffee shop, and he’s literally the best worker there

Unlike most of the workers, he pays a lot of attention to the customers and what they specifically ask for, and he’s also always so polite, he was only ever rude to a customer once, but that was because she was being ruder, so it was okay

He also rarely ever gets orders wrong, and when most people come there, they ask specifically for him to make their coffee, so he gets pretty overwhelmed throughout the day and rarely gets a break

Most of the time he didn’t really pay much attention to the customers that asked specifically for him, but most of them straight up flirted with him, and he’s made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in getting a significant other

That was until he met you

Normally, Izuku worked afternoon shifts, so from about one in the afternoon to nine at night (this was partially because he was the only one who closed up the shop correctly), but they recently began changing the schedules up and he got stuck with six to two in the afternoon

He didn’t really have a problem with waking up early, since he normally woke up fairly early to go for a run, not as early as he was now, but still pretty early

It was his first time working that shift when you came in for your morning coffee

You were playing on your phone when he called out to the next in line, you looked up and proceeded forward and to the counter, you looked up expecting the girl that normally worked in the morning but instead it was Izuku

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before,” You asked, clearly confused. Izuku gave you a small smile, and his face got a little red, you were really attractive, despite obviously just waking up

“No, I’ve always worked here. I just normally have afternoon shifts but they changed it,” Izuku replied.

“Oh, are you going to be working in the mornings from now on?” You asked, and after a nod, you spoke again, “Okay, well my name’s Y/n L/n, you can call me Y/n if you want, I come in here every morning and I’ll take a y/o.”

He immediately made your order and it was the best that it ever has been

After that day, you and Izuku both got secretly excited to see each other every morning, and you took got on first name basis with each other

You two ended up developing an odd sort of bond, whenever you came in, you two acted like best friends despite only seeing each other for about fifteen minutes every day

You started drinking your morning drink while at the shop, and you always sat at the bar so you could converse with Izuku while he was working

Eventually you two ended up exchanging numbers and hanging out outside of the coffee shop, and then he asked you on a date, and then shortly after that you began dating

You still went in every morning even after you started dating, and everybody working there thought that you were the cutest couple ever

Katsuki Bakugou:

Katsuki comes to get coffee every morning, and everybody at your shop knows this, and they all play rock paper scissors the day before to see who gets to deal with him the next day because he’s a pretty tough customer

He always finds something wrong with the coffee that he gets and he will make the barista remake it until it’s perfect, and he’s made multiple baristas quit because of this

And I know what you’re thinking “why doesn’t your boss just ban him from the shop” but your boss is a bigger asshole than he is, and he has chose Bakugou’s side every time that he’s been brought into it, so the workers just stopped trying to get him to help after a while

The two of you met on your first day working there, since you had tried to defend Katsuki when you first met them, saying that he couldn’t possibly be that bad, when they tried warning you about him, so they forced you to deal with him on your first day on the job

“Good morning,” you said, smiling at the blonde that came in, as he stared at his phone, he didn’t recognize your voice so he looked up and he was pretty surprised to see how attractive you were

“Morning,” he replied, hiding the fact that he liked you, and turning his phone off, before placing it in his pocket

“What can I get for you?” You asked, still smiling at him, hoping that he really wasn’t as bad as all your co-workers said. He told you his order, before giving you his name as well

All your co-workers were listening in and were shocked when he didn’t add on a rude “And don’t forget the extra cream” or “And if you fucking add too much sugar again, I’m calling your boss and complaining”

You made his coffee, before setting it on the counter, and tapping a few things on the screen, and giving him his total price, which was around seven dollars

He took out his wallet, before placing a fifty dollar bill on the counter. This was also strange to your co-workers because Bakugou never paid before he got a sip of his coffee, in case he wanted a refund or for them to remake it/give it to him for free

You picked it up and went to give him his change, but he stopped you

"Keep the change."

"What?" You asked

"I said, keep the change, you fucking deaf or something?"

"Uh, no, but sir, you handed me a fifty."

"I fucking know what I did, do you want it or not?"

"Yeah, I want it," you said, grabbing the change and immediately putting it into your pocket, "Thank you, sir, and have a good day."

"Yeah, whatever," he replied, picking up his coffee and leaving

As soon as he was gone, all of your co-workers were around you, asking you what the hell you did and why he wasn't rude to you, and you could only answer them with a shrug because you honestly had no idea

After that day, you were the only person that ever made his coffee because he was actually nice to you, and because of you he saw how it wasn’t really that easy to do the job

He figured that they just always messed up because they weren’t trying but they were probably just stressed, and it was probably partially his fault

Eventually, he ended up asking you out on a date and you two got to know each other and then eventually you started dating

Eijiro Kirishima:

Like Izuku, Kirishima works at a coffee shop, he just isn’t the most perfect worker ever, but that’s alright because nobody expects him to be perfect

He makes his occasional mistakes, and I would probably give him a 7/10 when it came to doing his job, but he gets an 11/10 for customer service

He’s not just polite, he’s also really friendly and if you just simply have a conversation it’ll feel like you’ve known him forever

He doesn’t really notice if anybody is flirting with him, he just assumes they’re being friendly and is friendly in return, but sometimes Kirishima’s friendliness can come off as flirting, even when he doesn’t realize, so sometimes he has had to reject somebody asking him out, and apologize for not realizing what they were doing

He never specifically tried flirting with anybody, not until you at least, he purposely flirted with you, because immediately after glancing at you, he knew that you were the one

Or that’s what he assumed, you just looked like his type, and he immediately wanted you

Your old coffee shop had shut down and this was the closest one to where it was, so you started going there instead

“Hi!” He immediately greeted you, happily, despite it being seven in the morning

“Um, hi?” You asked, in return. In your last coffee shop the worker that you normally got was pretty vague, and normally talked in a monotone voice, so Kirishima’s happy and cheerful voice was a bit of a surprise

“How are you doing this morning?” He asked, tapping something on the screen

“Good,” you replied, “Do you guys have y/o?”

“Yup, what size would you like?”

“Medium,” you replied, and he tapped something on the screen, before replying

“Okay, that’ll be $5.30, but it’s on me,” he said, smiling at you, picking up a medium disposable cup, “What’s the name?”

“Wait, what?” You asked, referring the first part of what he said, not the question

“I asked what your name was,” he explained, giving you a smile

“No, why is it on you?” You asked

“Oh, I always pay for somebody’s coffee if I find them cute,” he replied, causing your face to heat up

“You find me cute?” You asked, and then he nodded, “Sir, I just woke up a little over half an hour ago. There are huge bags under my eyes, there is no way that you find me cute.”

“Sure there is! Because I do, now what’s your name?”

“Whatever, it’s Y/n,” you replied, and he used a sharpie to write the name on the cup, before going to get your order ready

And he returned with it, giving you a smile, and telling you goodbye

You thanked him for the coffee and once you returned to your car, you read the receipt and found that his number was written at the bottom along with “call me :)”

And that’s exactly what you did

Shoto Todoroki:

Like Bakugou, he’s also a frequent customer, but not every day, he normally comes in every other day, or every three days

He was normally pretty vague, not wanting to interact too much with the barista, he wanted to get in and get out in as little time as possible

He didn’t have a problem correcting the barista if his order was wrong, and he didn’t expect it for free. He just expected them to remake without him having to pay extra

He also didn’t make a big deal if there was a little too much cream or sugar, they probably just added a bit too much, and that’s pretty easy to do

Shoto never really paid much attention to the barista he got and he didn’t really care about who it was, until he walked up to the counter and you were there

“Good morning, what can I get for you?” You questioned, tapping something on the screen

“Morning,” he said, and then he proceeded to make his order

“Alright? And your name?” You questioned, holding the sharpie up to the cup

“Shoto,” he replied, surprising the barista next to you that was listening in. Shoto never used his first name and it surprised her because he normally just said either “Todoroki” or “I’ll be standing right here, just hand it to me, please”

“Alright, Shoto,” you said, using his name, “I’ll be right back with your coffee.” He nodded in acknowledgement and stood off to the side, watching you as you made his order

“Here you go,” you said, handing it to him, “Sorry if I messed it up. I’ve never made one of those before. I’m new here.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, taking a sip. He hid the fact that he didn’t like it, because you had in fact messed something up, maybe you didn’t add enough of something, either way, he faked it with a smile, “Thank you, have a good day.”

Later that day, your co-worker informed you that she was watching you while you made it, since she knew that you never made one before, and she told you that you messed it up. Then she told you a little bit about Shoto and how it was obvious that he had a crush on you

The next day he came in, you apologized to him, and he brushed it off, saying that it was alright

You made a pretty bold move and left your number on the receipt with a little note “call me sometime?”

He did just that the same night when he got home from his work, and you two agreed to go on a date

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applejongho · 3 years ago

Text

cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is.

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it. As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

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lovelytarou · 4 years ago

Text

the language of flowers — oikawa tooru

pairing: oikawa tooru x gn! reader

genre: fluff, flowershop!au

tags: flowerboy!oikawa, slowburn, strangers to lovers

word count: 4.06k

a/n: i finally finished this after 2536484 years of procrastination! but thanks to my moots shae and julie for showing support and giving their opinions about this concept hehe. this is the longest fic i've written wow 😳

⤷ summary: the flowershop on the street you frequently walk on going home is a wonder you didn't notice until recently when the smell of flowers caught your attention. deciding to enter it one day out of pure curiosity, you met the owner of the shop and with it, the start of a blooming romance.

life was filled with repeating patterns, certain routines and habits that everybody has gotten used to doing. like the way you always took the same path when going home, passing by the familiar faces you encounter all the time, seeing the similar architecture and landscape that brings some sort of familiarity to you whenever you see it.

your feet stopped in their own accord when a sweet smell invaded your nose. you inhaled deeply, the aroma pleasant and fresh. going a few steps back, you finally saw where it was coming from. the flower shop stood out like a sore thumb in the street with its vibrant flowers that you can see through the clear glass. the sunlight was shining down upon the beautiful flowers and they looked charming even from afar.

you thought for a moment and decided that you'd stop by in the flower shop for a little while. besides, if the smell alone has caught your attention, who knows what else can?

the soft tinkle of the bell on the door signalled your presence. you were simply in awe at the sight of the decorations inside the shop. it was breathtaking. numerous flowers, bouquets, wreaths, and some that you don't know the name about were placed neatly and elegantly inside the shop to let the customers feast their eyes (and noses) upon.

giggles and loud laughter snatched you away from your thoughts, a huddled group of women and men alike are circling over something - or someone? - and they seemed to be too entertained about it than the flowers themselves. chuckling quietly, you shook your head and decided to look around the place more for yourself.

there were buckets and baskets of anemones in pinks, reds, and purple. there were also daffodils, camellias, and tulips of many colors that you can't help but get sucked in by them. you can't think which one to go to first, there are so many! the hanging plants are wonderful as well, they can make for great decoration. the succulents look cute and adorable, it can also be manageable if you find yourself too busy to take care of a plant.

you were too deep in your thoughts, caressing a blue tulip to even notice the sudden silence in the shop and the ringing of the bell at the door that tells you the previous patrons have exited the flower shop and you're now alone. or so you thought.

“beautiful,” a sing-songy, lilting voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jolt from where you're admiring the flower and turned towards the owner of the voice.

if the flowers took your breath away, well he made you get your breath stuck in your throat. he looks like he's not from around him, and simply breathing in his space is something short of disgraceful. you took in his wavy side-swept dark brown hair, and his welcoming eyes of the same color that shone with mischief. his lips are stretched into a smile.

wow, he is really tall. you're surprised he hadn't reached the ceiling of the shop. he seemed pretty intimidating with his height alone, but there's an air around him that screams playfulness.

“ah, i meant the tulips.” he apologized as a blush coated his beautiful clear cheeks, a hand touching his nape.

“oh!” you cleared your throat, immediately bringing the tulip back where it respectfully resides, “yes, they're very wonderful to look at. you have a lovely shop, uh…”

he seemed to perk up at the inquisition of his name, he chuckled to himself before offering his hand.

“oikawa tooru, nice to meet you! and thanks, i do try hard to keep this flower shop presentable for customers like you who have taste.” he winked, walking past you and you followed suit – eyes practically glued to his form as he moved swiftly around his small shop.

“must be difficult to run a business like this all by yourself,” you wondered, fingers brushing against petals that your hand can reach.

it's odd, but staying in there for just a few minutes has brought you a sense of relaxation. as if the flowers all around you and talking to oikawa is such a breath of fresh air.

“well, you get used to it after a while. besides, i have my friends, uh...help me sometimes.” he nervously chuckled, he certainly knew that 'help' means that force his friends to carry things around while blackmailing them and bribing them for lunch, then sure, he had them help him.

you only hummed in response.

he turned around after a while, a pink lily in his hand.

“i think this suits our gorgeous customer, don't you think?” he smirked, handing the flower with a flourish which you took gently – causing your hands to touch and making you feel that slight tingle people talk about in movies and books.

you felt silly about the way your face heats up at the small gesture, your gaze not straying away from the flowers in fear of letting oikawa see his effect on you.

but you can try with all your might, nothing can stop him from already seeing your flushed face. he always does these things to entertain the customers but he found his chest feeling warm staring at you like that.

going back to his place in the cashier, he started to tidy up a bit for the next customers that will visit the shop. his brown eyes kept staring at you from time to time as you walked around, trying to see if there's anything else you could buy along with the lily – but we all know it's just to keep your attention away from him and the fact that he can make your heart race with mere flirting.

“i never really noticed your shop before, and i have walked this street for how many times now.” you droned on, playing with the cute pots on the shelf – some of them were heads of the cliché green alien and other space themed stuff which you find adorable, bringing a fond smile to your face.

“oikawa's flower shop is like a secret garden, my dear customer.” he boasted, spraying freesias on the cashier desk with a smile on his face.

“it truly looks like one,” you agreed, with one final look in the flower shop, you walked closer to the cashier and got out your wallet.

“no, no. it's on the house, lovely.” he beamed, stopping the hand in your bag.

“really? thank you.” your face flushed at the feeling of his hands – the very same one who took care of these beautiful flowers – touching yours.

he recoiled, as if burned. his face painted a deep red like the roses by the windows. both of you looked away, like two magnets of the same sign – coming in contact with each other only to repel.

“well, um, i'll see you around then.” you muttered, breaking the silence.

“yeah, see you.” oikawa smiled warmly. hopefully much sooner, he hoped.

with one last look at each other, you turned around and exited the secret garden. you walked home that day all smiles and giddy, still feeling the lingering touch he has left on your skin, how warm and calloused they felt. maybe from how hard he was working.

you wondered if you'll ever see him again soon.

the second time you visited the flower shop was when you saw oikawa in one of the coffee shops you frequented. it turned out that he usually stops by for coffee and his milk bread when the shop's particularly slow. he asked to walk you home and since you're both taking the same path, you agreed.

he turned out to be a very chatty person – not the kind that will annoy you because they only talk about themselves, but the amusing kind because he has a lot of stories stored inside his big brain full of tales about him and his friends, and occasionally asking about your life as well.

you two had fallen into a comfortable pace as you walked together, sipping both your beverages.

“hey, let's play truth or dare!” he blurted, eyes sparkling in excitement and thinly veiled mischief, a bright smile on his lips.

“really? here? now?” you asked, incredulous. isn't this something people do in parties around a lot of people?

“yeah! it'll be fun,” he shrugged.

“well, okay then.” you sighed, before sipping your drink, “you go first.”

“okay…” he pretended to think hard, eyes darting everywhere as he hummed, “truth or dare?”

“you don't really need to think so hard about that,” you chuckled.

“just pick!”

“alright, alright. truth!” you beamed at him, trying to understand what his brain will cook up to ask you.

“ah, that's easy. what's your name?” oh, that's right. you forgot to tell him back then the first time you went in his flower shop. and so, you told him.

“y/n. what a beautiful name. okay, my turn! my turn!” he excitedly chanted, eyes never losing their sparkle.

you ignored the butterflies that erupted in your stomach the moment he said your name, as if he's taking his time and tasting it around his tongue like a foreign delicacy he hasn't tasted before.

you cleared your throat, averting his gaze as they zeroed in on you, “truth or dare, mr. milk bread?”

“hey, they taste really good, i'll have you know.” he scoffed, before his face morphed back into excitement again, “dare!”

you thought for a moment, there isn't really anything too interesting to do while walking. and then you smirked.

“i dare you to greet the person who will walk this corner as if you knew each other for a very long time,” you grinned devilishly. he gaped at that, before darting his gaze towards the street corner you were talking about.

“y/n-chan, i didn't know you would be the type,” he teased, you were about to retort when a huge, buff man walked around the corner. he looked intimidating, even for you and you wondered what oikawa might be feeling right now.

but you didn't need to wonder about it any longer as he was already walking up to the man, confident and grinning. he raised his hand in the air before slapping the guy on the shoulder.

“hey, long time no see, man! say hello to the wife and kids for me, will ya?” the man gave him a weird look before shaking his head, walking past and minding his own business muttering about 'kids these days'.

once the guy was out of earshot, you and oikawa bursted out in laughter, looking at each other with relief and surprise.

“i thought he was going to pulverize you!” you wheezed in between chortles.

“i know! me too! i thought he'll get mad at me or something,” he threw his head back as he laughed. you stopped your own giggles to stare back at him. he looked radiant as he let himself go, you thought he looked attractive with the way he candidly showed his happiness.

“something wrong, y/n-chan?” you hadn't realized he stopped laughing and was left staring at him. his head was tilted in curiosity as he peered at you in concern.

“not at all!,” you catch yourself, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, hoping he didn't notice you ogling him, “where were we?”

“it's your turn now, truth or dare?” feeling bold, you chose dare next.

oikawa gave you a broad smile, his hand extending towards you as if encouraging you to take it, “i dare you to stay a little longer with me in my shop,”

to be honest? you expected him to get back at you and maybe make you do an equally embarrassing (if not more) dare, but you did not expect this.

what you also didn't expect is the fact that you had stopped in front of oikawa's flower shop with your back turned to it. how did you reach there so fast? it seemed like talking and walking with him made time stop. a part of you would like to keep it that way, if only it was possible.

“i would love to,” was your answer. oikawa opened the door to his shop, letting you in first. he then led you near the back of the shop, opening into a wide backyard that resembled a small, gorgeous garden with different kinds of flowers. some even you haven't seen him display in the shop inside.

the two of you sat on the two seated table. you were simply at awe with how ethereal this all looked. your eyes couldn't get enough of all the wonderful colors that it landed on.

“wow,” was all you managed to say, taking in your surroundings and appreciating every nook and cranny presented to you.

“i spent most of my breaks here,” oikawa came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the glass table.

“usually talking to myself and talking to the flowers. i heard it helps them grow faster and makes them more beautiful.” he, too, looked around his small garden with unconcealed pride and fondness. if you looked closer, you could also see the hint of sadness hidden in there.

“you talk to your flowers? that's so cute!” you gushed, hiding your smile behind the glass of water as you sipped it.

“if anything, you're the one who's cute.” he complimented as if it was nothing, eyes boring into yours as his smile widened.

you choked on your water, coughing it up out of surprise and it was the opposite of cute. but his opinions didn't change.

oikawa barked a laugh, reaching over to pat your back soothingly. once you calmed down, you avoided his gaze once again and decided to stare at the sunflowers nearby.

“we should just continue the game,” you decided to divert the topic.

“truth or dare, cutie?” oikawa bit back the grin from emerging on his face. hiding it with a palm propped up on the table.

“d-dare,” you answered without thinking. and oikawa being the little shit he is, took this as an opportunity.

“i dare you to go on a date with me this saturday,” he sincerely declared, eyes not leaving you once. your head whipped back to him so fast, you swear you got whiplash.

you're not one of these flowers and yet you felt the butterflies going wild inside of you.

your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest, pounding hard and ringing in your ears.

“you don't need a dare to get me to say yes,” you reasoned with a wide smile.

oikawa tooru, like his flowers, is a lively, blooming person. you get to know that the moment you agreed to go on a date with him. it followed a few hangouts, and frequent bumping into each other considering this was a small town, afterall. how you haven't noticed such a vibrant person in your life was beyond you.

you see him everywhere, every day in your life right now. in the small bushes that your neighbor has in their garden, the alien and sci-fi movies in the store which were his favorite every time he invited you to watch a movie, the milk bread you saw in the coffee shop you both love to go, and even the characters in the books you love to read. oikawa tooru practically invaded your life the moment you invited yourself in his flowershop and you loved every second of it.

every time you two hang out together, he never misses to bring you any flower. you'd always keep them with you until you come home, placing them in a vase and watering them constantly, taking care of them like how much oikawa takes care of the flowers. you paid no mind to it, only thinking that it was a sweet gesture from him until your friend decided to comment on the fresh flowers on top of your coffee table.

the both of you had known each other for a very long time now and that she's going to get married, she wanted you to be a part of it too. setting down the tea in front of her on the table, you sat down beside her, engulfing her in a hug.

“oh, y/n! i missed you so much! it's been busy with all the planning for the wedding and the people to invite, i still haven't tried on my dress and tasted the cake, it's kind of stressing me out!” she immediately let her sorrows and agony free the moment you let go of the hug.

“speaking of stress, is there anything i could do to help?” you reached for her hand, rubbing it soothingly in circles.

she hummed thoughtfully, sipping her tea to calm her nerves, “now that i thought about it, we still don't know anyone good enough for the flower decorations in the venue,” she pouted, sighing sadly.

a lightbulb lit itself on top of your head, making you perk up, “i know someone who does!”

“really? are they good?” oh more than good, you wanted to butt in but shake your head free of those thoughts.

“of course! he's actually the one who gave me these, he takes real good care of them.” you gestured towards the tulips in your vase. it seems like her eyes lit up and she immediately fell in love with the flowers.

“tulips?! oh, y/n, my dear, he's in love with you!” she squealed in glee, bouncing in her seat like a little kid.

“how did you know that by simply looking at my tulips?”

“giving tulips to someone means a declaration of love, sweetie.” she sighed dreamily, “you might as well plan for your wedding too!”

“don't be ridiculous!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to smile too wide.

you weren't too against on the idea, but you just met afterall. it would be too early for another wedding. even though he never failed to show his affection every time you are together, there's still a lingering doubt whether he did like you in that way.

as promised, you asked oikawa about it the next day, stopping by his flower shop with coffee and his beloved milk bread since it's his break.

“y/n-chan! it's always a pleasure to be visited by you again,” he greeted you, he was attending to a few customers in the store and excused himself before talking to you. your heart swelled with the action, not being able to hide your smile this time.

“tooru, i was just stopping by to ask you a favor. my friend's wedding is getting near and she still doesn't have any flower decorations for the venue. i mentioned you and i was wondering if you're the one who could do it instead?” you bit your lip nervously, fumbling with the paperbag containing the bread as you looked up at him hopefully.

seriously, how can he resist you looking at him that way? your eyelashes fluttering, mouth formed into a pout, eyes shining brightly. you're just asking him to devour you whole. before he knew it, he had leaned in to peck the corner of your mouth.

it completely shocked you to your core. he hasn't done that kind of thing before, always being respectful and never doing anything you didn't want to. but strangely, you weren't mad at him for it. to tell the truth, you kinda wished he kissed you more.

“i'd love to, y/n-chan.” he uttered, pinching your cheek before turning to hide his own reddened face.

that was basically the last time you saw each other since you recommended him to your friend. and since then, he has been busy and you tried to help with the wedding as well. you figured oikawa has his hands full with taking care of the decorations for the wedding, but even then, he would still message you or even facetime you after – asking about how yiur day went and craving to see your face without him being able to for how long.

the day of the wedding came and it was magical. your heart melted the moment your friends said their “i do's” as everybody clapped and rejoiced with them. the moment you stepped into the venue, everyone was amazed, speechless at the decorations being the first thing their eyes could feast upon. pink and white roses was all you could see – ranging from vine-like ones hanging from the ceiling, to arches in the doorway, and some are even placed neatly on the tables.

to sum it all, it was breathtaking.

“your boyfriend did amazing,” your friend teased, bumping her hip to yours as she walked away with her husband to greet some guests.

you were left standing there, mouth agape as you took everything in. you couldn't wrap your head around the idea of oikawa managing to do all this by himself, but then again, he has surprised you by doing a lot of things you didn't know he could do.

“you know, if you stayed here longer there won't be enough food left for you.” the familiaf voice you grew to love and got used to spoke from behind you. something tugged in your chest, the events seeming like déjà vu all over again.

“i'm just admiring your work, tooru.” you smiled, turning around to face the man behind the beautiful decorations.

he's changed his clothes into a more formal attire than his usual getup with the aprons and white button up shirt for a maroon suit and tie. he even styled his hair back, if you didn't know him long enough you might have mistaken him for someone else.

“you look...good,” you managed to breathe out, it seems like the decorations aren't the only ones that are breathtaking. your eyes drank him in, how the clothes hug his frame perfectly, the color complimenting his skin tone, and the fact that his fluffy hair is swept away really makes you want to jump his bones right here, right now.

“and you look gorgeous. i must say, i don't mind you looking like this all the time, y/n-chan.” he chuckled, a shit-eating grin blooming on his face as he eyed you up and down slowly. your face grew hot against his stare and you felt naked, as if his eyes can see through you.

“th-thanks, tooru.” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your clothes. before any of you could speak, however, the emcee spoke on stage calling out the bride and groom to give a speech.

you all gathered around the small stage as they thanked everyone for coming to the wedding, inclduing the guests, their helpers, the staff. after all the mushy speech, she declared it was time for the dance, turned around and threw the bouquet (that's also from oikawa) to the audience.

you saw the thing flying to you and out of pure instinct, you threw your hand in front of you and ended up catching the bouquet. everyone around you clapped including oikawa himself as you stared at it wide eyed. your gazed met oikawa's and as if your face couldn't get any hotter, you also felt the fast beating of your heart when you stared at each other.

everybody howled and chanted teasing remarks at the two of you. instead of paying attention to the newly weds they picked the two of you as the center of their amusement.

your friend's voice overpowered them all as she also chanted, “kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!”

oikawa looked at you with a raised brow and you can only smile bashfully in return before you felt the world turn upside down, oikawa dipping you as he kissed you passionately and deeply. time seemed to stop once again as everything blurred and all you can feel is him, and all he can feel is you. he hoped it would be enough to pour all the emotions and words he wanted you to know.

it felt like the kiss lasted forever before he pulled away, the two of you out of breath as you giddily smiled at each other, both sharing a lovestruck look.

“is it too early to ask you to marry me?”

general taglist: @chibishae34 @behan @bukojuiice (tagging you here bcs you're excited for this)

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we-dragons · 3 years ago

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I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 6 Damian x reader

Professor X sat in his wheelchair glancing around the room he hums his eyes pouring over all that there was finally landing on Robin. He gives me a look gesturing over at him.

"He informed me about The Crows sir, apparently they have gone under the radar, they've killed three people and the system didn't go off. At first, I thought we still had time, I treated a wound he had it he had come in contact with one and fought it. You know like how Wolverine did, I treated the cut and it's gone, but I was sure they were still in the dream state. But he got injured saving those left how survived probably not far from here, but the fact we didn't even receive the ring can only mean...they've returned under complete control again."

Concern fills the face of professor X, he turns to Robin, who shifts uncomfortably by the entrance of my kitchen. "Who are you then?"

"Robin."

The professor nods not even turning from his spot, he looks over Robin as if completing an inspection.

"How much does this Robin Know Dreki, about you, and The Crows?"

"I told him about the Jal-sein, the old race before the collective mind sharing, and he knows about my box of scales." Professor sighs.

"How did you meet him."

"When he broke through my window last week, infected."

"You gave him some scales to purge poison."

"Yes sir."

"Very good," He moves back to his original spot in the middle of the room. "You have been permitted to stop them at all costs if you must. Your uncle will be here soon to help you kill whatever has brought them back, in the meantime try not to use the stones. We don't want to attract more trouble than what has already been done."

"You're allowing me to put my powers to use?"

"As long as you don't wear it out, vibranium is not easy to turn into clothing."

"What a minute!" Robin's voice carried out through the room. "Just what's going on?"

"Robin," Professor X starts. "your world is being invaded by the Crow so that you become one of the many planets they have drained of life. And to do it they need a vessel that can contain the leader of the Jal-sein, Hok'mor." Professor X looks at him, his use

"And?" Robin says his face remaining unreadable

"I was the vessel, I escaped, destroyed the flagship and the army they had." I shiver moving out from my room to the box still lying on the kitchen table. "They were after the life of my home, so then I became a weapon for my planet." I pull out a bag of coins from the box.

"And what do you intend to do now (Y/N), destroy them yourself." Robin stands in the entryway, professor X stands behind him.

"Yes," I turn to him a chakram and the bag of coins in hand. "so unless you know how to obliterate a bird in 15 seconds or less you need to forget this ever happened and never come back."

"So, why tell me any of this, why tell me about anything why expose yourself?"

"So you can tell your family and friends and hopefully, just maybe you can survive. Because knowing them keeps them out of your head, but too much knowing allows them to enter." I pick up Nightmare, he crawls up to my shoulder and I head out of the kitchen, Robin makes room for me but just barely. I open my closet and pull out the last thing I have, two letters one written in my mother's signature ink and the other in my own handwriting, I hold them out to the professor.

"You know there is nowhere left for me to run professor if I end out getting caught...I just want him to have this. In my letter, papers are containing the custody terms for my brother to Uncle. I just need you to grab them to complete the transfer." Professor X slowly takes the letters where they rematerialize on his side.

"Good-bye Dreki, I will see that these get to your Brother."

Professor fades out of the com, and it clicks turning off, I pick it off the floor and slip it into the pocket of my sweatpants. I pulled out the chakram ready to leave a mark on my hand, I only needed a little bit of blood to completely transform when Robin coughs gaining my attention. He leans against the wall to the left of me now glaring at my form, Nightmare growls at the boy from the corner of my eye I see his fangs getting slightly bigger.

"Are you making it a habit to ignore me while I'm here?"

"No, But I do need you to leave, you can't stay here anymore." I begin to push him out the door in the kitchen, he slaps my hands away confusion leaving his face replacing it's with anger. He open's his mouth and I put a magic orange circle on his head.

"You Robin son of batman, found this information interrogating one of the monsters. It spoke in a language that was foreign but somehow understood all of it. You have made no such connection to the girl Y/N M/N, you did not see a man from another dimension, you came back to thank her for her help you had some tea and you were just leaving." I flick my hand and the circle vanishes, his head lowers for a moment as the information in his head readjusts. He moves to the balcony edge turning to face me the scowl returned to his face.

"Thank you for the tea." he pulls out a grappling hook and leaves without another word. I sigh moving to the same device I used to contact the professor. Picking it up I hold it to my mouth.

"Find me the closest thing to a sorcerer supreme, name and whereabouts contact them when you get there."

I toss it back onto the floor and it roars to life to give me a purple image of the earth and orange magic circles to tracking and moving. I move to my couch and fall asleep waiting for this day to take me.

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I wake the next day with the globe still searching for my request I sigh and get ready for work. I thank god that it's just the coffee shop below me, I work on the weekends mostly unless they need an extra member of staff then it's just me and the older lady and her husband. They both owned the building and the shop they helped me get the apartment set up and showed me how to work the coffee machines. I don't really drink coffee though after seeing what a raving maniac my dad became without it, also it was just so bitter no matter how much sugar I put into it. I partially blame my heightened scenes that came with my abilities, so I got free white hot chocolates and any extra flavors I wanted as long as I did my job and chatted with them for a while.

I asked them personally to stay away while I was sick, so they wouldn't be affected. When I get down the stairs Martha, the elderly lady beams thankful that I'm feeling better.

"I so glad you are doing well dear, I know the acidity in our rain makes you sick so Glenn and I got you this umbrella." She hands me a purple umbrella that still has a tag on it, it reads for sun and rain.

"You didn't have to do this Martha, I told you I'm not good with gifts, you already let me stay here on the government's program and gave me a job here, you and Glenn have already done so much." She pushes the umbrella farther into my chest.

"No you do so much for us, you work without complaint, you've also taken care of us and our granddaughter when she came over. When you were sick we were so worried about you so you going to take it or I can give you more gifts."

"Thank you very much."I smile brightly. She pats my shoulder and gestures to the counter to start the machines.

Once all the machines are started, the desserts are placed and the base coffees are made I open shop. Customers come in and some lounge around in the chairs or couches drinking coffees and either studying or chatting with their friends. Molly usually comes on Sunday as one of our regulars, so I would see her then. A few of our regulars are happy to see I'm back at work one of the other tenants gave me a green bean casserole and a hug. It's 5 O'clock and I make a cappuccino as I finish I hear the door open and the bell ring on the counter.

The black-haired blue-eyed male I had gotten to know as detective Richard Grayson, came in every other day at 5, he normally talks often while I tried to take his order. So I memorized what he usually gets so he doesn't block the register so I can still make the register.

"Hey Y/N I'll take the usual."

"I thought so," I hand him his drink " one cappuccino."

He takes his coffee and moves to the bar we have set up if you wanted to watch the process and it's only then I see the other people behind him, one pissed-off looking male with a cigarette in his mouth, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne. I look back to Richard he smiles at me leaning onto the bar.

"They came with me this time, It's family bonding time."

"You mean you dragged us out of the house to grab a coffee from this place cause you have a schedule."

"It's bonding Jason! Bonding!"

The two began arguing in the shop, I return my attention to the other two boys. Tim as at the counter puts a ten-dollar bill on the counter, while Damian does the same.

"Give me a regular coffee, black, large cup."

"Tea, no sugar, regular size."

Their voices crowed each other but since this happens frequently it was easy enough to at least get their orders down.

"Sure here's your change." I look back to the two arguing and I see Jason didn't put out his cigarette. He taps it and the ash of his drug falls to the floor.

Sighing I move out of the workspace gabbing a tong and a wastebasket, I take out the cigarette and throw it in the bin now gaining the full attention of Jason. I give him a stern look he seemed to freeze, bitting back any words he might have prepared to say before.

"Sir, I am not sure if I made we've previously made It but there is a strict no smoking policy. As you see we have many elderly, and young children in our establishment." I smile but I know my face is full of malice. "But please enjoy your stay at our cozy corner of our fine and fair city." I move back behind the counter start on some of my orders, I look at Jason again the smile still on my face.

"Would you like anything?" He gives me an odd look.

"White hot chocolate, Large," he nods his head over at Richard. "Put it on his tab."

"We don't have a tabs sir, he works for the police."

"So?"

"He gets Free coffee." He gawks at me as if I told him the sky was black, and I see Richard trying to contain his laughter.

"You give that guy free coffee?"

"It's a store policy." I pass out the coffee and the tea and I see from the corner of my eye he pulls out a flask. I grab the tongs again and clap them together, Jason looks at me then grumbles putting the flask back in his jacket, and instead pulls out a five and hands it to me. I take it from him gingerly and head straight to work on his order. I hand him both his spare change and his drink, and the complimentary cookie bag that came with it. He gives me another look.

"They come with a drink." I leave and continued my chores around the shop.

"You are doing much better (m/n)." I whip my head around and look at Damian who's behind me on the other side of the counter. His companions seemed to be in deep conversation amongst themselves.

"Yes, I'm doing just fine, it happens occasionally but nothing like a good cup of tea and a few nights rest couldn't fix." I go back to cleaning the counter.

"You were sick for much longer than that."

"Yeah...it happens." I change the topic to "Did you think of anything for the project?"

"Why not make a model, there is not really much to do with it anyway." I gasp dramatically.

"Not much to do with an astrolabe! You clearly didn't read the whole paper!" By now I have caught the attention of his group. Damian frowns.

"No, your paper was written very well, I just don't think we need to dwell too much on this project seeing as how we really are not presenting." I had heard that bit from Molly.

"I suppose your right." I put away the cleaning supplies and turn back to him. "I'll get started on a model right away!"

"You will do no such thing." His voice is stern. "I will come back later and work on it with you," He moves his chair back and heads out the door.

His companions follow quickly after him and they say their goodbyes.

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As promised, he came a few hours later right as my shift ended and another person came for the second half of the day. I moved the glowing tracker to my room so it wouldn't gather any extra attention.

"I have supplies, what is all of that?" my brows furrow staring at the bulging plastic bag in his hand while I turn the keys in my locks. opening the door.

"I wasn't sure if you were prepared." He moves to the door, my arm shoots in his way stopping him.

"I wouldn't go in quite yet."

"What?"

I put a finger to my lips and crouch slowly to the floor, I shake the key in my hand then slid them across the floor. A ball of black attacks the object just as it crosses the doorway. Nightmare attacks the keys rolling around and bitting.

"Ah yes, observe the feral kitten in his natural habitat." I walk inside the door beckoning Damian to follow. "I would beware he is an ankle bitter. You can set up in the living room I'll just drop this guy off in my room."

"Does he attack all the time?"

"He's been like that since I picked him up, I don't blame him he was born in a rough neighborhood." I set Nightmare on the bed next to the floating version of earth. "Watch it make sure it finishes." then head to the living room. Damian has all his stuff set out on the table. There was veneer, paper, paint, some nails, an Exacto knife, a hammer, and a bag of pipe cleaners.

"This looks like stuff to make a birdhouse," I try and pick up some of the wood that was on the table." you realize cardboard, scissors, and a sharpie would have been enough."

"And here I thought you like polished and neat projects."

"yeah, but even with cheap materials you can still create a masterpiece."

"You don't do anything nice for yourself self do you?"

"Dude the most expensive thing I own is a cat who attacks me." I sigh, I sketch out a design for the astrolabe. "Well, why don't you start on the Mater, I'll get to work on the plate for our side of America."

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"3 hours of hard work and I got to say it's not bad." I hold the fished product, It's attached to a string of green yarn. "The calculations are down to point." I put it down, I clean up the mess that's on the floor of the living room.

"About the last time we saw each other, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, you probably knew about me from the news already, the big myste#wayne#scifi#damian#bruce#bats#fanfiction#xreader#characterxreader#jason todd#tim drake#character x reader#mxf#fxm#batboys#batboys x reader#Damianxreader#X reader#DC#Marvel#MarvelxReader#DCxreader#batfam#mutants#Damian Wayne x reader ry of the missing journals. So many interviews." I dump the trash in the kitchen, saying that last part mostly to my self.

"You forgive too easily."

"I'm not as forgiving as you think, honestly you view me too highly it that's what you believe. Would you like something before you leave?"

"No, but I have something for you before I go." I open the door to my room and let Nightmare out.

"Oh?" He's already at the door and pulls a shiny gold card from his pocket, he hands it to me.

"Father thought it would be good to meet you."

"Because I'm the daughter of a famous dead professor, is he going to ask about the journals too?"

"No, this is to apologize for my previous behavior."

"Oh," I take the card looking at it uneasily. "I don't think I can go to this, I don't do well at parties."

"Not a very good excuse." He smirks.

"I'll think about it." I push him out the door and give him the Astrolabe, closing the door slowly. " I'll see you at school."

I look at the card again, It's like the parties mom went to I knew them well. While some were nice, others were nice only in their face. I laugh slightly to myself, Molly already called me earlier telling me I was her plus one to the same thing. This was already suspicious enough as it is. I look at Nightmare who cocks his head at me.

"You think I should go, don't you?" the furball nods

"Fine. I was going to be forced into this anyway."

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starlit-serenade · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss and Make Up

🧡 Summary: Months after a heart-breaking break-up, your best friend Hyunjin begs you to attend a late night party at his home, where you see the last person you'd wanted to see--your ex-boyfriend, Bang Chan. (Requested)

🧡 Word Count: 2,421

🧡 Pairing: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan X Reader / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Producer!Bang Chan; Hwang Hyunjin (Hyunjin);

🧡 Rated: T for swearing / Warnings: swearing / Genre: GenderNeutral!Reader; Angst; Fluff (?);

You stare at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you look good enough or if you need to change any part of your appearance. You want to look attractive enough for the party, but not attractive enough that you'll attract any unwanted attention from men.

Not that you don't like men. You just don't want a boyfriend anytime soon. You just got out of a relationship about a month or so ago and you haven't fully recovered yet.

You sigh and redo your hair. Still, you just aren't satisfied with your appearance, but you promised your friend Hyunjin that you'd be there at 10, and it's already 9:30.

You arrive at Hyunjin's home only a few minutes after you'd planned to. The place is filled with dancing people that you recognize, but most that you don't know. It's Hyunjin's party and the only people here are friends of his, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. You don't see him anywhere as you enter the house, but you expect him to be in the kitchen near the drinks, so that's where you start.

You see Hyunjin leaning against the counter with a red cup in his hand, and push through the crowd of people dancing to music to walk toward him. His long, blonde hair is tied back in a messy little ponytail, and he's dressed

"Oh, look who's finally here," he says. He passes you a cup, which you sip from slowly. "Don't drink too much. We both know your alcohol tolerance is shit."

"It's not that bad."

"Well, there was that one time where you got absolutely shitfaced and threw up, and Channie had to take you back to our dorm."

You glare at Hyunjin at the mention of your ex boyfriend, and he ducks his head apologetically.

"Sorry. I won't say his name."

"You had better not. Why did you want me to come here, anyway?"

"Because I didn't want you cooped up in your room forever, idiot. You need to get out."

There's a long moment of silence between you two, filled by the sound of loud music and people dancing and singing along or talking. You hadn't been to one of these parties in a long time, mostly because you were afraid you were going to run into Bang Chan, a frequent party-goer. But Hyunjin had texted you last night, saying he wanted you here.

You start tapping your foot to the music as you look over the people dancing in the living room. You think, for a moment, that you see a familiar form drift through the crowd and tense up.

"What?" Hyunjin asks, frowning at you from the side.

"I thought I saw . . ."

Chan emerges from the crowd again, wearing a black cap, and leather jacket over a black T-shirt and black jeans. He looks around before his eyes fall on you.

"Fuck," you mutter, lowering your head, hoping that he didn't recognize you. You turn your head and stare, wide-eyed, at Hyunjin, who has his hands up in surrender. "Did you know he was coming? Is that why you asked me here?"

"Who?" he asks.

You glare at him accusingly. "Bang Chan," you hiss.

"Well Y/N, I just . . . he asked me to let you know if you were going to be here, because he wanted to fix things with you and--"

"Fuck off," you mutter.

"Y/N, he wants to fix things. He loves you."

"Whatever." You turn around and march past Hyunjin and pour yourself some more alcohol. Fuck it.

You broke up with Bang Chan a few months ago. Not because any of you did anything to each other, specifically. Neither of you hurt each other physically or insulted each other. After just over a year of dating, you knew you had loved him. But that didn't mean the relationship was perfect.

Bang Chan loved you too. You knew that. But he was often too busy to show it. He was also a hard worker, dedicated to his job. That meant that he was rarely home, and when he was, he was always working or too tired to give you enough attention. You had once tried to tell him that you needed more attention, but he waved you off. You eventually realized that you couldn't live like this, feeling alone, and broke it off with him. You loved him, but you couldn't stay in the relationship if you were going to feel isolated. It broke your heart.

You've spent the past few months recovering from the pain of missing him, intentionally avoiding any place you might see Bang Chan. It didn't help that your friend Hyunjin was friends with Bang Chan.

You take another sip of the drink in your hand. You've been trying so hard to get over Bang Chan, and you know that seeing him will undo all of that work. Might as well drink some more so you can survive the rest of the night after seeing him.

Halfway through your third cup, someone taps your shoulder. You turn, and unsurprisingly, it's Bamg Chan. He looks really good. He's removed his baseball hat, so you can see that he dyed his hair back to black sometime since you broke up with him.

"Hey Y/N," he says, looking you up and down. "Can we talk?"

Fuck.

You're halfway through your third cup of whatever-it-was, but you're still not drunk enough for this. You're drunk enough to make stupid decisions, but you're not drunk enough to be unaware of them. Every stupid thing you may or may not do, you'll remember clearly.

"Sure," you say, facing him and leaning your weight against the edge of the table. "What do you want?" you ask somewhat drunkenly.

God, that sounded lame.

"I just wanted to apologize," he says. "I was thinking back to our last conversation."

You can feel your head is dizzy, but you shake your head and ignore it. Chan seems too focused on his speaking to notice.

"I realize that I was being a real dick. I wasn't listening to you back then. I wasn't giving you enough attention. I was too absorbed in my work, and I didn't see it then. I was too obsessed with my--"

You don't know what comes over you. You just want him to shut up and stop talking. You grab the car of his stupid leather jacket and kiss him. It certainly shuts him up.

He's frozen for a moment, before he places his hands on your waist and starts kissing you back. You hum and your fingers wind into his hair, pulling him closer. He tastes so familiar.

His fingers squeeze your hip gently. That brings you back to reality.

Why am I kissing him? We broke up.

You pull away from him, letting go of his jacket, your hand covering your mouth in shock. Your head hurts. You don't know if it was drunk you or normal you who kissed Chan. You're sober enough to know that that was stupid, though. Chan doesn't know that, though. He could think you're just drunk out of your mind, right?

You push past him and can hear him calling your name. Calling for you to come back. You need to get out of here.

You wake up the morning after, feeling like absolute shit. Your hair is a mess. You're tired, from seeing Bang Chan at last night's party. But it's the weekend and you have no plans.

Your phone has several messages from Hyunjin, asking if you're okay and got home safe, but you're too emotionally exhausted to respond.

After sitting in bed, thinking about how you kissed your ex boyfriend Bang Chan, you decide to take a refreshing shower.

After you finish your shower, you wipe yourself off in your towel. As you stand in the mirror, your towel wrapped around your body, your phone rings and, to your horror, it's Bang Chan. You'd deleted your number from his phone during your last argument, and his from yours. He doesn't have your number memorized, you know that. So how can he have called you?

You pick up.

"How did you get my number, Christopher?" you say before he can speak. You rarely call him Christopher. Usually, it's Chris or Chan or Channie. It's only Christopher when you're mad, and you've been mad at him for months.

He pauses. "A friend we both have."

You groan. "I'm going to kill Hyunjin."

"Y/N, I have a request," Chan says on the other end of the phone. You groan.

"I can't guarantee I'll say yes, but just say it."

He takes a deep breath. "Can we meet for breakfast? I want to just talk."

You know you should decline for your own sanity. But deep down, you miss Chan. You miss his kisses, his hugs. You miss him.

"Alright," you say, your voice coming out much softer than you intended.

"Can we meet at our breakfast place? I mean--it's not our breakfast place anymore. But can we meet there?"

You tense. "Okay."

"Thank you."

You hang up and finish up getting ready for the day. Halfway through dressing yourself, you realize you're wearing one of your nicest shirts, as if you're dressing up for a nice party. You tell yourself you're not dressing up for Chan, but deep down you know you are.

You head to the coffee shop you and Chan used to go to for regular dates. It was a great place to focus on work and school. As you walk in, you see Chan sitting at your usual table. He waves you over and you sit across from him anxiously. The table already has your usual breakfast and drink. He remembered it. Your heart melts. You'd thought he didn't care enough to remember, but apparently he did remember.

"Hey . . ." he says, smiling nervously, fidgeting with his fingers on the table.

"Hi." You look up at him. He's smiling sadly at you, like you're something he wants so dearly, but just out of reach. Perhaps that's how you felt before. You had wanted to be his, but you never felt like you were when he would only focus on his work instead of you. Realizing there was no point in trying to get his attention, despite him already being your boyfriend, you gave up.

"So . . . last night at the party."

You freeze up. "I was drunk."

"I know," he says. "But you know what they say. Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts."

You glare at him. "Did you call me to breakfast just to rub it in my face that I miss you and kissed you? Why did you call me here, Christopher?"

"You miss me?" he asks, eyebrow raised cockily, as if he couldn't tell from how you two made out last night.

"Christopher!"

"Sorry," he says, ducking his head. "So how have you been?"

"I've been alright," you say. His question feels forced, like an awkward transition, but you answer anyway. "How has producing been going for you?"

Chan winces. "It's been going alright. After we . . . after you left, I didn't sleep for a few days. I didn't want to go home because I didn't want to come home to an empty apartment. Then when I finally went home, it finally hit me that you were gone. I couldn't produce anything for weeks. Changbin and Jisung were worried."

You nod. "I'm sorry that I took you away from your work by just not being there."

"No," he says, shaking your head. "It was good. It gave me time to think. About us. About my role in the break up."

"I'm glad."

"Y/N," Chan says suddenly. You look up at him, and he's staring at you. "I was saying it last night--before you kissed me--but I understand, now, what I couldn't all those months ago. I wasn't giving you enough attention. I was too obsessed with my work to see that I was neglecting you. I loved you, I love you, and I didn't show that enough. I'm so, so sorry. I want to ask you if I can have one more chance. I don't deserve it, but please. If you give me this chance, I promise I'll be better. I've toned it down with my work. I will listen to you."

You stare at him.

Honestly, you miss him. You think back to your relationship with Chan. You loved him. You still love him. You never stopped. But near the end of your relationship, you felt so alone. It felt one sided. You were in a relationship with Bang Chan, and Bang Chan was in a relationship with his work.

But looking at him now, you know he's grown, and you're sure he's changed. It's not like he meant to hurt you. He was just being stupid and unaware. Now he's very aware of his mistakes, and has changed a lot.

You look down at the food and drink that Chan ordered for you. He remembered your tastes, what you like, your favorites. You'd thought he wouldn't remember things like that. But he did. Perhaps . . .

"Okay," you say softly. Chan looks up at you, eyes wide in surprise.

"Really?"

You smile and nod. "Yes. One more chance."

His smile is bright and wide, and he grabs your hand from across the table. You feel warm inside. "Thank you, Y/N. I promise I won't disappoint you."

You feel yourself smiling. Bang Chan's smile is something you've missed seeing, and now that he's smiling at you again, months after your breakup, you feel so happy.

"I know." You squeeze his hands gently.

"So . . ." Chan looks around anxiously. "Do you have any plans after this?"

You shake your head, smiling.

"Do you want to spend the rest of the day with me?"

You nod. "I'd like that."

#stray kids #bang chan #christopher bang #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #op #text #bang chan x reader #myfic

54 notes · View notes

illicitivywp · 4 years ago

Text

mal de vivre.

The morning that Harry wakes up and you're not sleeping peacefully beside him is the worst of his entire life.

He can sense that you're not there. The air still circulates whiffs of your caramel shampoo and the breeze of your automatic fan that you always insist on leaving on all night still whirs leisurely and tickles the back of his neck.

Regardless, the room is vacant. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that much.

For now, he remains entirely numb. Immune to the flooding sobs and intolerable agony and festering anger, he supposes it's in his best interest to stay like that for a while.

For a few days, at least. Until he can fully process your absence. He's not certain how long it takes the average person to wholly recognise an entire chunk of themselves missing, but he figures he's already suffered enough.

Surely, the universe isn't that cruel.

Your love is delightedly grand, and with its sudden unavailability, he feels so dejectedly vague.

He's clearly not perceiving time correctly, perhaps it's his distant concentration or maybe even his body's method of rejecting life and the wretched torture of its innate malice.

A few times, he's experienced sleep paralysis. The first, horrifying occasion is long-forgotten, when he was seven or so - it happened only after staying up until one in the morning to watch a horror movie that he'd been specifically warned not to watch and a towering vacuum of danger stood solid as stone at the end of his bed.

If it weren't for his fingertips subconsciously tracing featherlight scribes of your name on his forearm, he might reasonably assume he's haunted with the condition once again.

A clattering of paws on hard floorboards injects a little more reality into his thoughts, and he still can't bear, physically, to turn over and greet the sweet puppy you'd snuck home and surprised him with upon his arrival home from work around a year ago, knowing that his acceptance of a familiarly-shaped void is waiting just inches away.

Eventually, and after another chaotic scramble of claws in need of a cut, Chi is bouncing enthusiastically at his side and attempting an ambitious leap onto the mattress. She fails theatrically, landing in a resounding thud on her back and launching back to her feet, completely unaware of her owner's awaiting grief.

Masking his greatest fears with scooping a palm beneath Chi's belly and hauling her upwards to nestle into his chest, the reposition forces him to lay on his back (she's always detested laying on her side, especially when smothered with adoring cuddles) and, like the coward he truly is, his eyes focus adamantly on a random spot of the pale ceiling. With every minute shuffle, it becomes more and more achingly apparent that you're really not here.

And if everything runs correctly, you'll squirm and giggle graciously at his waking before returning his kiss, to his lips, this time, and he'll suggest applying a little moisturiser, like he always does, and you'll love him like you should.

When his eyelids snap open and his head curves breezily to your claimed side of the bed, he's somewhat unsurprised to confirm that his life truly has transformed to a dreadful bundle of tragedy. In your imposing place, is a neatly-made bed and an envelope.

A single, white envelope, stained by the sweet, flowing cursive that could flow only from your touch.

Chi leaps naturally to the spectacle, sniffing curiously at the letter and nudging it around a little, whilst Harry is so unexplainably pained that he's unable to move. Swallowing thickly, he's not certain word-for-word what lies in the confines of this envelope, but he does know it'll confirm your leaving him, and for some strange reason, he's relieved you left an explanation, at least.

A souvenir of you to hang onto forever, along with the millions of other items and memories of yours in his possession.

Carefully removing it from Chi's vicinity and replacing the object of her attention with a random squeaky toy that he'd discovered burrowed beneath his bed a few nights ago, he traces your exquisite handwriting with his fingertip and reads along with inaudible movements of his mouth; For Harry, mon amour.

In that moment, he realises profoundly that he'll never get to request hearing you say different words in your accent again.

The amount of times he implored relentlessly to hear je t'aime and have it accompanied with an endearing kiss is infinite.

Harry, my love,

I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't handle the pain.

Seeing your face cures any anguish I feel, but not this time.

I really, really tried; I know you did, too. I wanted it to work out, I prayed every day that our suffering would magically end and we could return to our love, I hoped that one day I would wake and cuddle you tightly and describe this awful nightmare I'd had.

Possibly, I may write to you in the future; please, don't try to contact me, it won't work and you know it's for the best. My family and close friends know where I am, where I will be, and they also know not to tell you if you ask.

I wish I could kiss all of your heartache away and protect you from all evil in this world, but I feel my presence is detrimental to your recovery.

My love for you is never-ending. Please be okay.

Forgive me and love someone else like you loved me. Let someone else love you like I loved you. Tellement, tellement.

Forever, I'll think of you and how unbelievably content I felt waking up next to you every day for seven-hundred and eighty (? - I'm estimating) mornings straight.

I will never, ever leave our love behind, and I adore you more than I can express. Your strength and resilience are admirable, and you are truly the best thing to ever happen to me.

Mon bébé, I miss you terribly.

Toujours, ton amour.

Chi tugs eagerly on her lead at the sight of the familiar entrance to her home, Harry in tow right behind. Sludgy snow muddies his shoes and soaks the hem of his jeans. His puppy's paws are undoubtedly drenched, too, but her fur is protected valiantly by her favourite jacket. He'd purchased it from a specialist store in France a year prior, and, since surprising her with the present upon his shared return, it'd become her primary option during the winter months.

Retrieving a reasonable pile of letters from his designated section, a rapid flick through displays bills, scams and all of the usual junk he usually receives. He offers his elderly neighbour a polite smile and holds open the door with his knee to construct a clear path for her exit.

He grimaces slightly at the teeth-shaped arc of damp dents into his mail - he hadn't particularly considered the repercussions of carrying it that way - and unclips Chi's lead, allowing her to run rampage through his airy apartment. Absently dropping his keys into its small dish of residence and taking a closer inspection at his post to infiltrate any wrong addresses or scams, he selects an apple from his fruit bowl and steals one firm chunk before noticing something peculiar.

Groomed eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he plucks one particular letter from the bunch and stacks it to the top. Perplexed by the sorely familiar curve of the writing scrawled on the front, his head shakes in denial - you wouldn't have, surely.

Discarding of all other mail on his kitchen counter, he's puzzled beyond belief; you'd left with no verbal warning and a letter that, admittedly, had been the source of several bouts of severe depression and, in spite of its awful affects, read dutifully every single day since your disappearance.

Rashly, he wishes you hadn't changed your phone number and email address shortly before leaving so he could possibly contact you regarding this mystery. However, he knows just as well as you clearly foresaw; his topic of discussion wouldn't be only the letter.

Tearing open the corner cautiously, he's incredibly delicate with checking inside the envelope once open to ensure it contains only his presumed note. Reviewing the front with a scouring gaze of disbelief, it really, truly has come from you.

He can't remember how many times he read each postcard that you'd gifted him with at the very beginning of your relationship. You'd recently made the permanent move from France to England, and, in a new country with limited knowledge of the native language, Harry had unintentionally become your beacon of comfort here.

With his fluent French and English, he was the perfect contender for kindly correcting your terminology and educating you on the essential etiquettes of Britain. Within weeks, however, your sweet smile had changed from an enjoyable sight during your frequent coffee shop meetings to something he craved.

He misses reading your silly, awful puns based around your home country, especially his favourite. A laughably unfunny joke paired with a matching scribble of the two of you; what do french fries do when they meet? They ketchup!

Harry,

I feel awful for waiting so long to speak to you again.

Your voice and your hugs. I've imagined them every single day.

I miss my Chi. How is she? I hope she's not missing her maman. Give her a kiss from me.

And the biggest kiss to yourself, because you deserve it, mon tout.

I'm inexplicably sorry for leaving so abruptly; I just couldn't take much more. The reminders were too much. Seeing your inconsolable pain every day was too much.

I'm so, so selfish, but I still believe allowing you to heal without my troubles was the best and easiest path for both of us.

I'm sure you noticed, but I may have stolen one of our pictures. It was your favourite, and that's why I had to choose that one, I suppose. Horrible, again.

I miss your dimples (and irritating you by poking them all the time). I miss your lips, they were so soft. No wonder you always bossed me around with the lip balm - I have my own now, I take it everywhere with me.

It smells like caramel.

Most of all, I miss your love. I've never known someone to love like you do. You were, are, and always will be, incredible.

Have you found someone to love yet?

Do you still think about me? If yes, please don't.

It's not fair of me to appear out of nowhere like this and not allow you a chance to reply. If you wish, post your letter to my maman's house - I'm not there, just to crush any other hope you have, but I'll receive it.

I'll be sorry forever, mon amour.

Sois gentil avec toi-même.

Câlins pour toujours, your baby.

Auriele,

I'm so thankful you decided to reach out again. I've missed you. Tellement, tellement.

Chi is brilliant, still eating everything and constantly in need of a haircut. She does miss you.

My hurt is still prevalent, I've accepted that it always will be. I truly don't believe it can be fixed again, but I'm still trying.

I spent the two weeks after your leaving searching for every single picture in existence of us. I cried so many times, I wish I could tell you that I'm wholly recovered and that you're fully forgiven, but I can't.

I think I counted them all. It's either three-hundred and seventy-seven or one-thousand, one-hundred and two (I have two sticky notes labelled pictures, I'm not sure which is correct.)

No one could ever love me like you do, tu es le meilleur.

I suppose that answers both of your questions.

Thank you for the chance to respond. I was incredibly confused when I received your thoughtful letter. I'm assuming by this one's destination being your maman's house, you're in France? You don't have to answer that. I would understand.

Mon bébé chéri, je t'aime.

Harry x

Harry,

It was the least I could do. I hurt you doubly and you never deserved that.

Tell her I love her. Buy her an ice cream for me (note the two dollars also enclosed in this envelope!)

There aren't enough apologies in the world to properly cover the extent of my mistakes, but I'll continue gathering as many as I can. And send them straight to you.

I also wish you could truthfully claim that you're okay, and I hope, with time, that you will be. It's all you ever deserved, mon chéri. You don't ever have to forgive me. I understand entirely if you hate me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those numbers were both low counts. I loved your face, as superficial as it sounds, but it truly was prettier than anything, and my favourite thing was always surrounding myself with it. Aussi longtemps que je pouvais.

My baby, I only tried my hardest to love you, and I sincerely hope I haven't ruined your idea of love so much that I'm your standard. Please, travel, find people to connect with, fall in love with a place, if not a person.

I bet Chi would love Spain. Australia, maybe? Thailand? Your choice entirely. You always were smarter than me (i.e. I left you - doesn't get much dumber.)

I am in France, feel free to ask any question you want about my current life if you decide to write back - you really don't have to. It's okay. You're still perfect.

Just not my address. It's so selfish of me to hide away from you when you're the one who deserves closure, but I'm not ready to share that information. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope you understand.

Tu me manques. Tu me manques ma maman et mon père. Tu me manques au cœur.

All my love, Auriele x

Every day, his thoughts are plagued with ideas of how to write his next letter. Your previous few communications ran smoothly; you seem incredibly apologetic and, as much as he would've gladly ignored the past tense use of 'love' in your most recent letter, he can't help but realise the difference from your first each time he reads it.

He's not certain why his first letter practically poured from his pen and before he knew it, it was sealed, posted and received. This time, however, he can't even construct a way to greet you.

Has distance and time really weakened your connection that much? His favourite childhood Disney movies would be ashamed.

The heartache you've endured together is insufferable, the bitterness remaining fresh and the misery continuing to roll onwards with him, and yet, you're both still alive. Perhaps, he should be a little more thankful.

He's tested out various support groups over the past few months; they appear to help in the moment, but once he returns home to a completely empty house, - aside from Chi - he realises all of his progress to be entirely fake.

How can he realistically recover from his insurmountable loss in solitude?

An apartment which used to breathe vibrant life and excitement for the future, diminished to nothing but silence.

He might as well have lost his house, too. Every second he spends there, surrounded by reminders of his grief, is draining. Of course, if he were a millionaire, he would've discovered a lovely, one bed flat with wide, open floors and windows. If he were a millionaire, though, maybe none of this agony would've ever happened.

He could’ve fixed it.

Regardless, he didn't, and now he returns home every single day, monotonous and finding solace only in rereading your letters and running through his local park with Chi, no matter the weather.

Sometimes, he hears the faint echo of your melodious voice ringing in his ear; mon doux bébé. For a moment, he believes you may be talking to him, but with a resounding giggle of contentment, you never were.

Within a month, he lost both of his sweet baby girls, and the pain is simply too much to comprehend.

Elle, mon cœur,

Firstly, I apologize for my late reply. This letter was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write.

You hurt me never. Life hurt me, and it hurt you, too, and I'm sorry it's so cruel.

Chi adored her ice cream - vanilla, your favourite - and said thanks! (complimentary picture attached, for you).

Sympathy and apologies aren't a cure. I've received enough of them to know. I hope you have, too. We might not accept it and it might not heal our pain, but it is nice to know you have people by your side.

Mon amour, I would/could never come close to hatred for you. You are my entire heart, and you own everything within it.

I hope, one day, I can forgive you. I hope you can forgive me. We both made mistakes. We're both accountable, and so is fate. Unfortunately, it wasn't on our side, and we have to welcome that.

Your face is certainly Top Five list of physical attributes, which goes as followed:

1. your lips. I know I complained about them being dry all the time, but I miss them, still.

2. your eyes. Somewhere between the ocean and a cottage filled with flowers, they were paradise.

3. your thighs. I am a man - a broken one, but a man nonetheless - and they are certainly the most family-friendly feature I could think of.

4. your smile. Even on my darkest days, your smile was heaven. I hope you're smiling right now. I wish I could see it.

5. your face? All of the above and everything else. Was that cheating?

I wish I could leave here. I wish I could find a small, tropic island where Chi and I can get tipsy on Virgin Mary's and surf all day, but I feel it wouldn't be fair for both of us to run.

Although, Chi would certainly have a great time in Thailand. She told me so.

Did I mention she misses you? We miss you.

I have more questions than you can imagine. This is only my second letter, however, so I suppose I'll stick to three for now, (sorry for all the lists!)

How are you? Mentally? Physically?

Have you made new friends whilst you've been out there?

Would you ever visit London again?

I miss you forever.

Ton bébé.

Harry x

Harry,

It's more tough to write my letters than you might assume. No need to apologise, I understand.

Life is shit. I thought I had accepted that. I never imagined how evil it could be.

Chi, my baby, looks so pretty. I love her haircut (number 8694743? out of infinite).

I have heard my fair share of sympathy. At first, I felt bitter. They didn't understand what I had suffered, they didn't understand the pain I felt. With time, I realised that, sometimes, sorry is all you need to hear to feel a little better. To feel like you're managing life, at least.

I wish I could believe I deserve it, but I truly don't.

My mistakes seem perpetual. I'm constantly remembering new ones. Things I could've noticed faster, signs that I should've recognised. Yours are nothing. You made no mistakes, mon amour, please believe that. As much as fate has been my least favourite higher power for the past year, I agree about welcoming our own.

I would make a list of my personal favourites of your appearance, but I'd be here all day, and I'm meeting with a friend in an hour (your second question - check).

It wasn't fair for either of us to run. I think it's turned out for the best, however.

I can imagine Chi passed out on the beach. You both deserve a holiday. Go to Scotland, or something, at least. Just away from London.

I miss you both. Much more than I can express.

I'm well. Mentally; it's a struggle, but that's just life, I suppose. Physically; my sickness stopped a while ago. I hope your headaches did, too, but I've been searching for cures for those for a long time.

Yes! I've made quite a few close friends. They all know and love you. I'll tell them you asked.

London holds far too many memories for me to bear. You're the only one I can stand. Maybe one day.

Tellement de câlins.

Auriele.

The second your letter arrives and is read fully three times over, Harry's scrambling to collect his fancy paper and ink pen, thousands of ideas about how to reply brimming in his head.

Pen to paper, however, his mind is entirely blank.

You're inching closer to addressing the subject of your pain, and so is he. So far, the only discussions you've had regarding that difficult topic have ended either in awful arguments or uncontrollable, endless crying and they all occurred before your disappearance.

Since then, you've had ten months and seventeen days shared to mature from and process the situation. Perhaps, if you were to have a conversation about it now, it would be beneficial.

Harry is aware of the solution to his strange writer's block and urges to attempt to fix your hurt, but he's not quite sure if he's ready. Physically forcing himself up from his cluttered desk, he tries not to think of the main event when changing his sloppy t-shirt and joggers to jeans and a jumper; it's February, so the wind is still well and alive but, luckily for Chi and the duration of her walks, the temperatures are beginning to rise.

His destination is barely a thirty minute leisurely stroll through the city away, and he feels shameful to admit that this is his first visit in ten and a half months. Several times, he's gathered his courage to stand on the pavement, surveying the vast area but never making it closer than the protective fences.

This time, though, he's determined to make it. And he will, with je t'aime's and sweet giggles bubbling in his ears.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

Auriele,

Life will continue to surprise us. It may be malicious, but it's also given me you, so I guess there are a few reasons to be grateful.

I think it's more like *8694744 out of infinite, and I'm sure she'll have many more unpleasant trips to the groomers in the future.

You are handling life impeccably, considering all. You deserve showers of recognition for just being here.

No one has ever been more deserving of my love, and no one ever will.

Please, don't blame yourself entirely. Yes, there were signs. Signs that we both should've seen earlier. We knew as much as everyone else. We can't know if things would be different if we'd noticed them, because they're not.

I'm glad you're enjoying life in France. Is it peaceful? Is it too far to ask if you're living with one of your new friends? What're their names, if you don't mind my asking?

If I were to go on holiday right now, Paris would be my first choice.

I'm glad you're feeling better, I hope you continue to improve mentally in the future. I wish you nothing but true happiness.

If you're ever here, I'd be honoured to see you again.

This might surprise you. Before I wrote this letter, I went to visit her.

I haven't since we were there together.

I talked to her for hours about my life and my pain and your letters and your pain and anything I'd love to say to you if I knew how. Meline always was the best listener, no offence to you. She just understands.

I miss her. I miss you. I miss my babies.

Please, send me a picture of you (always topping lists) in your next letter. I need to see you now. I bet you're glowing.

Toujours, Harry x

Harry, mon amour,

I feel as if I should address the end of your letter first, because I certainly wasn't expecting it. I cried a lot. I'm still crying as I write this.

It feels nice to feel.

I've been so numb to it all. I know I should sob every day, think of her every single second. I don't. That may make me an awful person, but I always preferred not to lie. Especially to you. I don't think the gravity has quite hit me yet.

Back to the normal, top to bottom of your letter.

My family is a gift. My parents, you and Meline, specifically. I've never admired anyone more.

I miss Chi. Especially today, for some reason. Send more pictures of her when you next write. (I enclosed an updated picture of me in town, if you hadn't noticed! It was taken last week.)

I had concerns. Concerns that I didn't follow up on. We knew something was wrong, but we did everything we could, right? We found help. We found medicine. Why didn't it work?

How fucking cruel can life possibly be?

It's much quieter than London. The air quality is visibly better. I am, actually. My closest friends are Leon and Aline. I'm living with them!

Paris is about as good a holiday as you can get. If I'm ever near you, whatever country it happens to be in, I'll be sure to see you.

The last part of your letter. I already touched upon it but not nearly enough.

I haven't said, heard or read her name in eleven months. I miss it. I miss your voice. And her laughs. She was so, so lively and enthusiastic for life.

It's so unfair that she didn't get the chance.

And I agree; she always was a fantastic listener. I told her about our issues more than I should've.

I wish I could hear her again. Her name wasn't Meline Risette Styles for nothing. Her laughs were so pretty. I could've listened on repeat.

I did. For a year.

I miss her.

I miss you. I miss your warmth. I miss your heart and your love and your smile and everything about you.

I miss normality.

When we thought things would be okay.

We were wrong, and hindsight, that's okay, too.

We will heal eventually, I trust that life can't take much more away from me.

Tout mon amour, Auriele x

Since that day, Harry's visited Meline every Sunday without fail - it's only been three weeks, but going in the first place was an unimaginable step.

He even combined Chi's walk with the most recent, and each time, entering, staying at and emerging from the cemetery becomes easier.

The first time, he paced through the gates several times before building the bravery to even step inside without running back. His flight or fight instinct had been touchy the whole time, bias towards flight the entire time.

He just wanted to be as far away from the source of his pain as possible.

At the same time, he just wanted his daughter back. Alive and healthy.

Once he'd settled, laid on the ground like a madman next to her grave, he never wanted to leave her again. He even brought her flowers and a little teddy bear from a shop he'd passed on his hurried journey there.

It was well and truly dark by the time he even considered returning home, because he'd rather be with his sweet baby than alone at home.

Now, Chi sniffs inquisitively around at the bundles of flowers placed on surrounding graves whilst Harry converses with his dead child's grave like she was as animated and eager as he remembered.

It's a little questionable for his sanity, but extremely helpful for his own mental health. And he's trying to fix them both.

He just wishes so much that he'd pushed for more tests in the hospital. If he could, he'd reject their diagnosis and prescription of heart medication and an inhaler for when her asthma flared up.

They claimed she had a weakened respiratory system and, subsequently, her heart didn't deal well under stress, mostly due to her premature birth.

They were correct.

However, they were entirely wrong when they sent you all home with a tub of medicine and advice to lower any potential stressors around her.

Harry remembers scoffing to himself; she was one, what could possibly be stressing her that much?

Apparently, a lot of things.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

There's truly nothing better.

Auriele,

I understand completely about any emotion feeling refreshing. For a while, I felt immune to it. I cried and I got angry, but nothing ever really set in.

I'm thankful that I can feel now and it doesn't destroy me.

You're not at all a bad person, or a bad parent. Often, I wish I could forget about her. And not just to remove the pain for a day or two. Also, I appreciate the honesty.

Important things must be talked about first. And while this paragraph isn't quite at the top of my letter, it certainly is my most admiritive.

You're so, so unbelievably beautiful. Even more so, now.

Your eyes are still paradise. That picture is stuck onto the cork board in the kitchen forever.

We did absolutely everything in our power to help our baby. As soon as we noticed an issue, we took her to the hospital. Maybe they accidentally underestimated her condition, maybe they just assumed it'd be treated with that medication.

Either way, we helped her as much as we could. And you were, are, and always will be the most incredible mother.

Meline was lucky, truly. She loved you so much.

As it turns out, life can be our greatest enemy. It's difficult to control and even harder to accept, but everything happens for a reason, I suppose.

Leon and Aline sound wonderful. I know it's not my place, but tell them I said thank you for being there for you? You don't have to.

I've never known someone deserve a full, healthy life more than our sweet girl, and it's an injustice to steal that opportunity from her at such a young age.

She would've been two next week. I'm sure you don't need reminding, but I'm still trying to handle my feelings about it. I already know her birthday is going to be the worst day since she died.

Meline Risette Styles deserves the world, as do you. Please don't be afraid to take it. You've earned it.

Her name still brings me so much joy; little honey, pleasant little laugh. It was such an apt description, in her short life.

Life can always take more, but it gives things that are so wonderful. Sois optimiste.

Tout mon amour et câlins, Harry x

wattpad:

#harry styles #letters #heartbreak #sad books #harry

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groovyzombiellama · 5 years ago

Text

Tempting Fate

Title: Tempting fate

Requested? No.

Plot: You and Colson meeting for a few times by accident before going on a date, realising something along the lines of fate was pulling the two of you together.

Word count: 1555

---***---

You never believed in chance encounters, to you everything that happened was planned out, and there was absolutely no way that you were gonna have a cheesy meet-cute one day that will just sweep you off your feet. You spent a lot of time thinking that, until life decided it was going to prove you wrong. That Saturday was like any other. You had made a pact with your best friends in college to take every Saturday off, even for an hour or two, and just go out for a coffee together, and keep your friendship strong. You can still remember it like it was yesterday. You can even remember the exact outfit you wore on that day. It was a bit chilly out, so you had your camo leggings on, and a black t-shirt, covered with a black leather jacket, along with a pair of timberland boots on your feet. You've always tried your best to choose clothes you feel comfortable in, and also know you look good in. Your friends all told you that combo looked good, so you just grabbed the clothes out of the wardrobe, because not being a morning person, among other things, meant that you couldn't be bothered to plan out an outfit.

Yoir hair was up in a ponytail, and after grabbing your purse and phone, you were put the door, somewhat rushing. Why did you always have to be so late? You hated it the most that every time you leave even so much as five minutes earlier, you spend over ten minutes waiting for everyone, but when you give yourself the liberty and time it out to leave with just enough space left to be there on time, you always somehow end up being late. If it ends up happening today too, you were ready to start looking into the reason behind this strange occurrence. Luckily, on your way there, you got a message from your friends, saying they were running a bit late themselves, so you could just slow down your pace and enjoy the cold breeze pinching your cheeks. As you approached the coffee shop you and your friends frequented, you could notice it was a lot more crowded than usual. The biggest appeal to the coffee shop was that it wasn't way too many people constantly coming in and out. It was more a place where people came to have a quiet moment, do some work on their laptop or even read a book while they sipped on a warm beverage.

Taking a closer look, you noticed that the people who were currently populating the coffee shop weren't exactly interested in that sort of thing. They were more interested in a certain customer. You couldn't really see who it was, but you could tell how frustrating it was for the workers of the coffee shop to kindly ask them to leave. They knew you and your friends very well and when your friends arrived, about a few moments later, you could see their pleading eyes almost begging you to help. And you were going to do just that, not knowing that you would set in motion one of the weirdest and yet happiest days of your life.

"Alright everyone, I don't know what this whole fuss is about, but I have to ask you to respect the people who work here and the people who just want to enjoy their drink. Whatever it is, it can wait at least a little bit. Please."

You pushed your way towards the counter and raised your voice just enough to gain everyone's attention.

"She's absolutely right guys. We can take photos outside when I'm done, but please step away for a moment, okay? You don't have to wait outside in the cold, but if you stay here, please be respectful."

A voice you found pretty familiar agreed with you and caused you to turn your head to the side to identify the owner of that voice. And that's when you realised where you knew him from. You were mesmerised for a moment, looking in the gorgeous blue eyes of your celebrity crush Machine Gun Kelly. You somehow managed to come back to reality and smile at him, a blush creeping on your face when he sent you a wink, and you and your friends went to your usual table. You couldn't help but sneak glances at Colson's table, and your cheeks would get redder and redder every time you looked in his direction to find him looking back at you, his lips curving into a slight smirk. You could also feel a lot of cold stares from his fans, and it was all making you really self conscious. After being done with his drink, Colson got up, much to his fans delight, and after paying for his, and what you'd later fond out, yours and your friends drinks too, he was out the door, and he took a few photos with his fans and disappeared after sending you another smile.

Your friends were teasing you constantly after that, and you couldn't wait to get back home and Bury your face on your pillow and daydream about what could have happened. But your cousin ended up calling you and asking if you were up for lunch, which you gladly accepted, your cousin being like a sister to you and after you were done catching up with your friends, you were on your way to see your cousin. A similar situation awaited you in the restaurant and you couldn't help but chuckle after meeting eyes with Colson again and he smiled at you before shrugging, and you ended up shaking your head with a smile on your face, and turned to talk to your cousin. You were talking and laughing, and you could feel Colson's stare burning in the back of your neck. You felt weird meeting him here again, since your college town isn't that small that you only have several restaurants to visit. He could have chosen any other, but as if that one thing you didn't believe in at work here. Good old fate. But you still refused to accept it and regarded it as another coincidence. Even your cousin was naming fate when you told her that you'd seen him today already.

"You know, I think she's right. Even though you don't. I'm Colson, nice to meet you. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier and thank you for helping me calm my fans down a bit."

Colson appeared next to you as you answered to your cousin how fate doesn't exist. He smiled and reached his hand out to you when he introduced himself and you shyly took it and you shook hands. His gaze lingered on your eyes for a moment before introducing himself to your cousin too. He invited you two over to his table for dessert and your cousin had to drag your blushing self along. You spent some time talking and laughing together, before you had to part ways and you made a bet with Colson that you'd let him take you out if the two of you met for the third time before midnight. Of course you wanted to go on a date with him, but you also didn't like losing, so it was a tough call.

You asked your sibling who was going out that night to let you know if they see him, so you'd know what bar you could avoid and then pop in before midnight to let him know that you won, but you kinda maybe still wanted that date. Confusing plan, but you felt like it was sound. Oh how the tables will turn. When you and your friends arrived at your club, a good while away from the club you heard Colson was in, you got comfortable. You aren't usually a big fan of parties, but it was your friend's birthday, so you wanted to celebrate with her. Everything went swimmingly for a few hours, until you felt someone snake their arm around your waist and pull your back flush against their chest. You were ready to curse out this imbecile for even thinking he can touch you, but as you turned, you realised that it was no imbecile, but Colson. He leaned over and whispered in your ear.

"Looks like someone owes me a date."

His words made heat rise in your cheeks once again, making him chuckle at how cute you looked to him. You could say that the rest is history. You went from the first date to the second, then third, and it was then that Colson asked you to be his girlfriend. Three years have passed since then and the two of you are still going strong. It isn't always easy, but you make it work. Although Colson would never admit that he in fact searched for you that night, to make sure he doesn't lose his chance with you. Oh no, if you ask him, it was fate for the third time. And it was in a way. He searched for you, but just as he was about to give up and think you purposely stayed home, he stumbled into the very club you were in. So maybe there is such a thing as fate, who knows.

---***---

I'm trying my best to write as many requests as possible so that I'd have the ability to queue them and be able to focus on classes as well, but it's super tough for me sometimes to spend all day at college and then muster enough energy to write more than one fic. But I will give it my best, and hopefully I'll be able to post them soon 😊😉

I hope this time the app doesn't send the gif all the way to the bottom like it did the last time I posted here 😂

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josjournal · 6 years ago

Text

Sterek Valentine Week - Day 6 - Secret Admirer

Derek could smell Stiles’ mood long before he’d reached the door. A tinge of sadness, as well as his usual overthinking, was overlaid by something else he couldn’t identify. Pulling the door open before Stiles could knock, Derek barked out a laugh as the boy startled, arms pinwheeling. Derek managed to grab him and pull him upright before he fell backwards off the porch.

His laughter died when he got a good look at his friend’s face, a large bruise covered his cheekbone and a spot of blood dotted his lower lip. He realized the third emotion he’d smelled was identified as pain. Derek lifted a hand to Stiles’ chin. Under the guise of taking a better look, he pulled some of the pain, thankful he’d worn his thumbhole sweater that morning as it hid the black lines travelling up his arm. Stiles was aware of him being a werewolf, of his entire family being werewolves, but he hated when Derek used his powers on him without permission and Derek might have felt guilty about it if he wasn’t so worried.

“What happened?” he ground out. “Is this why you had to stay after school?” he continued, not letting stiles answered as he dropped his hand to his arm and dragged him inside. It was a sign of just how out of it Stiles was when he didn’t put up even a token protest.

Derek’s mother stood in the living room when he pulled Stiles over to the sofa and pushed him to sit. She held out an ice pack to Derek who took it and applied it to the side of Stiles’ face. He lowered his eyebrows, flaring his nostrils trying to discover who had done this damage.

When Stiles lifted his hand to take control of the ice pack, Derek noticed the bruising on his knuckles and felt a flare of pride. He wondered what the other guy looked like. He started to lift a hand to brush over the knuckles, but Stiles scooted away from him on the sofa, face flushing and eyes flashing dangerously.

“I’m fine,” he snapped but held the ice pack in place belying his statement. After a moment of Derek holding eye contact, Stiles looked away with a sigh. “Alright, I’m not fine, but I’ll live.” He let out an even louder sigh before throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “I’ll live and I’ll die alone because I am unlovable!”

Derek could hear his mother laughing from where she’d escaped to the kitchen as he shook his head. “Don’t you think you’re being overdramatic?” Stiles glared at him. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I asked Lydia to the Valentine’s Day Dance,” he said, running a hand over his mouth muffling the sound, but Derek heard it anyway.

“So did she do that or Jackson?” Derek asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Not that point,” Stiles said. “Why doesn’t anybody love me, Derek?” His friend’s voice was serious and slightly wet, the scent of salt filling the air and filling Derek’s throat.

“I love you,” Derek told him, keeping his voice light and thankful when it brought a quirk to Stiles’ lips and a low chuckle.

“I love you, too, but not what I meant,” Stiles told him.

Derek made a noise of agreement despite disagreeing because what Stiles didn’t know was that Derek did love Stiles in just the way that he had meant.

***

The next morning, Stiles was bouncing on his heels next to Derek’s Camaro when he’d opened the front door balancing two travel mugs of coffees in his hand and holding a paper bag of homemade cinnamon rolls between his teeth. “Man, Mama Hale is the best!” Stiles squealed, grabbing the bag and one of the mugs. “Thanks, Mama!” he shouted into the house and Derek heard his mother laughing again.

Once they were settled into the car and heading towards school, Derek had enough of Stiles’ fidgeting. “Who put extra sugar in your toothpaste this morning?”

“I think Lydia loves me,” Stiles said, his smile growing. “Or maybe Jackson.” He wrinkled his nose and Derek felt sick.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, hands tightening on his wheel until he felt it creak beneath his hands.

Digging into his bag, he pulled out a red gift bag, sparkling pink filler paper spilling out of the top. “I found this on the porch this morning!” He reached in and pulled out a can of Red Bull and a bottle of Motrin along with a heart shaped sucker with a piece of paper that said, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” He shook the Mortin at Derek, giving him an expectant look.

“What does that have to do with Lydia?” Derek asked.

“There’s only a few people who know that I got hurt yesterday. So, it’s either Lydia, Jackson, or the school principal.” Stiles tapped a finger as he named each person. “Lydia is really the most logical choice, but I suppose it could be Jackson.” He looked thoughtful.

“Or your father. Or my mom,” Derek suggested as he pulled into the school parking lot.

“Or you,” Stiles said, laughing and then protesting when Derek grabbed the Red Bull. “Hey!”

“You can have this or the coffee, not both,” Derek told him. “Remember the last time; you didn’t sleep for three days.”

Stiles conceded the point and chose the coffee, claiming it went better with the cinnamon rolls. “I’m going to thank Lydia,” he said as he got out of the car and smiling at Derek over the roof.

***

“She laughed in my face!” Stiles shouted as he arrived at the car at the end of the day.

Derek shook his head. “At least she didn’t punch you in the face,” he muttered. He’d seen Jackson earlier in the day, a slightly smaller bruise to match Stiles on his own face, so he’d been right in assuming that Stiles had fought back the day before.

Stiles climbed in the car, sulking and spent the ride to the house complaining again about his unlovability. By the time they said goodbye and Stiles had gone into his own house and slammed the door, Derek was reading to claw his own ears just so he could stop hearing until they’d healed.

***

Derek was surprised that Stiles wasn’t standing next to his car in the morning, as he had every morning since Derek had gotten his license. Unlocking the car, he threw his bag in the backseat while checking his phone to see if there were any messages about him not going to school, but there was nothing. Heading next door, he stepped onto the porch, but the door was pulled open before he could knock revealing the Sheriff already dressed for work.

“Morning, Derek,” he said. “Stiles is running a little late. You can wait in the kitchen if you like.”

“Have a good day, sir,” Derek called after him before going into the house and nearly running into Stiles or at least someone who looked like Stiles but muted. “You ready?”

The Stiles-like person just shrugged and grabbed his bag, following Derek out the door before locking it behind himself. They made their way to the car. Derek was climbing inside as Stiles opened his door and let out a shout. Glancing over, Derek spotted a bag similar to the one from the day before sitting on the passenger seat, a tag with Stiles’ name hanging off of it. “Did you leave your car unlocked, dude?”

“Don't’ call me ‘dude’,” Derek muttered as he watched Stiles dig through the bag out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles pulled out a heart-shaped sugar cookie on a stick. It was dipped in red chocolate and had, “You are loved,” scrawled messily on it.

“Wow,” Stiles said, smiling as he stared at the cookie before digging in the bag some more, but coming up empty. “Wish I knew who was doing this,” he said, voice sound happy despite the confused tones of his scent.

“Does it matter?” Derek asked. “Can’t you just enjoy knowing someone admires you without knowing who they are?”

Stiles gaped at him, spluttering and waving his arms before crossing them over his chest in a pout. “Just drive,” he finally said, the happiness of his tone lost in something else.

Derek listened, pulling away from the house and heading towards school, allowing Stiles to sulk in silence. It was the first time since he’d started driving them to school that the trip was completely silent the entire way, but when Derek went to get out of the car, Stiles stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What if it’s a joke?” he asked, voice quiet. “I mean, Lydia already laughed when I tried to thank her for yesterday's gift. What if Jackson or someone is waiting for me to make a fool of myself over this. I need to know who it is so I know it’s real.” His tone was pleading.

“I get it,” Derek said. “I’m pretty sure it’s not a joke, though,” he reassured him.

“Why? Can you smell who left it?” Stiles asked, eyes wide. “I was going to ask you to sniff the bag yesterday, but didn’t want to be rude.”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t smell anyone that shouldn’t have been in the car. Sorry,” he told him, climbing out of the car and ignoring Stiles’ pout.

***

The next morning was Saturday, so there was no need for Derek to get up early and yet he had risen with the sun and gone for a run. He was just returning when he spotted Stiles sitting on the Hale front porch, a familiar looking red bag in his hand, a smile on his face as he spotted Derek.

“Another one?” Stiles nodded. “What is it today?”

“Don’t know. I was waiting for you to open it,” Stiles told him as he followed Derek into his house, settling at the kitchen table as Derek tossed him a bottle of water, which he immediately dropped.

Derek drained one bottle before grabbing another and sitting across from Stiles at the table. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, stopping when Stiles’ scent took on a strong scent of arousal. When he dropped his shirt to check on him, he was digging in the bag and Derek wondered what in the bag could possibly have garnered that reaction.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said, getting an embarrassed laugh from Stiles as he laid the items from the bag on the table between them.

There was a book about astronomy that Derek knew Stiles had on his Amazon wishlist, along with a box of glow-in-the-dark stars. A note taped to the top said, “If you be my stars, I’ll be your sky.” There was also a gift card for the coffee shop that he and Stiles frequented.

“Wow, your secret admirer really seems to know you,” Derek said, reaching out a finger to run over the edge of the book.

“If a person is ugly, they’re a stalker. If they’re good looking, they’re a secret admirer,” Stiles muttered as his scent turned metallic with anxiety.

Horror ran through Derek as he processed Stiles’ words. He fumbled the water he’d been sipping and it spilt across the table, thankfully Derek recovered in time to rescue Stiles’ gifts. “I’m sure it’s the latter, even if they aren’t terribly good-looking.”

Stiles studied Derek, eyes focused until they both began to squirm. “Der, do you know who my secret admirer is?”

“If I did, wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you,” he responded, pushing to stand from the table. He tilted his head, ignoring Stiles’ dog comment from behind him. “Mom needs me to run to the store. I’ll talk to you later,” he said before disappearing out the front door, ignoring Stiles’ call of, “Dude, your mom isn’t even home!”

***

Derek didn’t talk to Stiles on Sunday, but he sat beneath his cracked bedroom window which was right across from Stiles and listened to him moving about his own bedroom. Stiles did a lot of pacing and he kept skipping songs on his iPod, never listening to any of them for more than thirty seconds before giving up and turning on his laptop.

It was around eleven o’clock at night and Derek was dozing off underneath the window when his mother came to check on him, bringing him something to eat. “You should just tell him how you feel.”

“I’ve tried and he doesn’t get it,” Derek told her, knowing he was whining but couldn’t bring himself to care enough to temper his tone. “He wants to be in love so bad and yet he believes he’s unloveable.”

“We know he’s not,” his mom responded. “Now you need to get him to see that.”

“I’m trying, but everything keeps backfiring,” Derek huffed.

“Use your words, son,” she told him before rising to her feet. “And get some sleep.”

She left the room, turning off the light she’d turned on when she’d entered. Derek was pushing himself to his feet, suddenly grateful that he’d kept the blinds closed all day when he heard Stiles’ voice. “Derek? Are you there?” He froze in place, voice caught in his throat, like the coward he was. It was a fortunate thing that Stiles as not a werewolf or he would be able to hear his heartbeat even across the yard.

The silence dragged on and just when Derek thought Stiles wasn’t going to speak again, he heard him. His voice was low, even by normal standards and Derek actually had to strain his ears to hear him. “...it were you,” was all that he heard, but before he could question, Stiles continued. “It’s so stupid, I know, but I wish it were you. I wish you were the person who loved me like that.”

Derek dropped quietly to his bed, burying his face into his pillow and allowing himself to cry as he ran Stiles’ words over and over in his head until he fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Derek didn’t want to get out of bed Monday morning, so he asked his mom to drive Stiles to school, which she did before returning home and telling Derek that Stiles had smelled sad and wouldn’t talk to her the entire ride other than a greeting and a thanks when he got out of the car. “Talk to him,” she encouraged Derek, although it sounded more like an Alpha order, so Derek got up and moving.

He arrived at school at lunchtime, checking the items he had sitting in the passenger seat. He walked to the cafeteria and spotted Stiles sitting at their usual table, stabbing his fork violently at whatever atrocity the cafeteria was serving that day. Smiling, he weaved through the crowd of students, returning greetings but never taking his eyes of Stiles.

Arriving at the table, he set down the bag and drink carrier from Stiles’ favourite diner, smiling when his head whipped up. “Curly fries?” he asked, excitedly as Derek sat down.

“Dig in,” Derek told him, waiting until his hands and face were buried in the bag before setting down the last item.

When Stiles looked up, he froze at the red bag sitting in the center of the table. As she continued to stare, Derek nudged the bag towards him. “What?”

“I heard you last night,” Derek whispered.

Stiles had been reaching for the bag but froze at Derek’s words and his gaze hardened. “If this is some kind of joke -”

Derek growled. “Never. I heard what you said and it was what I needed to hear to come forward,” he explained. “When I walk into a crowd, I’m always looking for you first. It’s been that way since my family first moved next door to you and you fell over the fence trying to get a look.”

“Derek-”

“Stop. Just please open the bag, I can’t keep talking,” he choked out.

Stiles reached into the bag, pulling out a book on werewolves that he’d seen at Deaton’s office that had gotten him a smack to the hands when he’d tried to touch it. The next item was a construction paper heart covered with glitter glue that was tacky enough to stick to his fingers and photo stuck to the center. The photo had been taken the day they’d met, the two of them covered in red kool-aid. Derek was looking at Stiles who had his head thrown back and laughing. “From this moment, I loved you,” was written beneath the photo in gel pen.

Stiles gaped at the words, his heart beating faster as his scent warmed and grew until it surrounded Derek in a feeling of safety and home and love. When their eyes met, they both broke into wide grins before Stiles was leaning over the table to press a kiss to the middle of Derek’s forehead and laughing at the way he scrunched up his nose.

“I love you, too,” Stiles responded. “Like really do.” There was no skip in his heartbeat, no lie on his lips. Just honest emotion and Derek had to get closer so he moved to sit next to Stiles instead of across from him. “And just so you know, you’re definitely not a stalker.”

Derek loved the feeling of the laughter that flowed between them as they shared their first real, yet still completely disastrous and perfectly them, kiss.

#sterekvalentineweek #sterek #sterek au #sterek fic #my writing #not a stalker

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silentwaters4 · 5 years ago

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May I please get a ship with male kingsman, supernatural, and marvel. I'm 5'4. I'm 20 (even though I don't look like it. I look 12 to some people.) I have blue hair. I’m straight. I have green/hazel eyes. I have to wear glasses. I'm really pale. I love to wear dark colors (mostly black.) I'm rather shy and mostly keep to my self. I love listening to music. I also have a passion for writing and making YouTube videos. I have a feisty personality and very sarcastic. Thanks love.

Sure thing hopple pop! Thank you for waiting! I ship you with:

Merlin/Hamish Mycroft

You didn’t meet Merlin, you met Hamish. You had been frequenting a coffee shop. It was a fantastic place to write. It was quiet, but not glaringly quiet. Most people were regulars and had their spots. And of course, they had a little nook, a spot which you claimed for yourself. You’d put in those headphones and focus up. At least, that was how it normally went. The first day you noticed Hamish, you could hardly focus. In fact, you had to take a break in order to just write out your thoughts (before quickly deleting it). This continued for the following week and a half. What you didn’t know was that Merlin was going extremely out of his way to stay so long at that coffee shop. He was only supposed to go there once, but he saw you. So, those following days were essentially him hoping to gain the courage to ask you out. He seemed to have found it a day after your friend had surprised you at the same shop. (That particular day, you had nearly forgotten the handsome stranger enough where you were acting like your feisty and sarcastic self…he couldn’t help but feel his heart squeeze with how amazing you are.) The following day, he was further enamored when you were being shy (he could tell you wanted to continue the conversation, you were just caught off guard). He asked you about your writing, which opened you up a little bit. Neither of you knew that particular conversation would lead to a wonderful world with the two of you at the center (he’d be incredibly protective, just an fyi hehe).

Kevin Tran

You have always been a part of the hunter community. Your parents tried to keep you from actually hunting, but they couldn’t stop you helping in other ways. You were no Bobby Singer, but you were good at what you did. You were able to use that feisty personality and sarcasm to gain information that most others couldn’t even get near. Some hunters honestly thought you were a creature as well (most guessed a siren…until they met a siren). The Winchesters were two of your favorite people to help. They always had something interesting going on. So, when they showed up on your college campus, you were shocked and wary. As it turns out, they were chasing a student by the name of Kevin Tran. When you heard the word ‘prophet’, you elected to help the boys anyway you could. This resulted in you hanging around Kevin quite a bit. The two of you got to know each other quite well. You pulled up a bunch of youtube videos to help pass the time (including some of your own). He enjoyed all of them. Other times, the two of you would just be quiet, him translating and you writing. During those moments, he’d steal glances and watch you so focused. Especially when you had in your headphones, you were in your own little world. It was amazing and adorable. After the worst of it was over, you met his mom. She absolutely adored you and gave her son a not so quiet approval (which had you blushing). Though flustered, he managed to ask you on a proper date. Of course you agreed.

T’Challa Udaku/Black Panther

T’Challa would find you extremely interesting. One moment you’d be bubbly and friendly, and the next you’d be coy and shy. You were constantly surprising him. Whether you were suddenly shy after compliments or when your boldness would shine through as you’d speak your mind. After the situation with the Accords, you went with him, Steve, and Bucky to Wakanda. Though you told the boys you were staying to keep an eye on Bucky, you had a slight other motivation. While Bucky was in cryo, T’Challa offered you a room in his very own residence. The two of you would stay up and he’d explain his heritage and you’d tell him about your own home. Other nights, he’d ask you about your writing. You were still in Wakanda when Erik showed up. You had never seen T’Challa so nervous (aside from when you first met Nakia). He kept you closer to him more than usual. If you weren’t at Bucky’s side, you’d be at T’Challa’s. You had sarcastically teased him to try and ease up, but it didn’t work. When he told you the truth about his father, you just held him. When Erik threw him off the waterfall, his mother and sister had to do everything to keep you from running down there to jump after him. Instead, they brought you with them away from Wakanda. The entire time, you were silent. You didn’t have the energy to speak. Ramonda tried to comfort you and Shuri, despite her own pain. Instead of going with Shuri, Nakia, and Ramonda to ask for M’Baku to ask for help, Nakia snuck you into where Bucky was being held. At the very least, you thought you could protect him in the case Erik tried to use him. So, when you saw T’Challa walking and alive across the plain, you burst into happy tears. And after the fight was over, the two of you held each other for a long as needed.

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datingadviceonreddit · 7 years ago

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This is a going to be a really long post. I usually never vent about anything, but i can't contain myself. I'll put a TL;DR at the end for those who don't like reading. I also have a bunch of questions, they'll be at the end as well. Thanks!So a bit about me. Some of you may know me. I've posted on here a bunch of times on this account and my alt account. I'm a 20 year old guy. Ever since my sophomore year in high school I've been severely depressed, have no self esteem, resulting in no confidence, and my social skills are non existent because i stopped talking to other people, i just wanted to die. I told myself I would never find someone who liked me. Always thought i was ugly. just being all around negative. Which cranked up my depressed making everything else worse. So naturally I never got attention from anyone. I'm a kiss-less virgin.Around Christmas time I decided I was sick of being so lonely. Tired of being depressed. And didn't want to think I was ugly anymore. So January 1st i got to work. Started eating better, went on a diet thanks to /r/fasting, started working out, and the hardest part of all, putting myself out there and talking to strangers. I started frequenting /r/socialskills more. and after the first month I had lost 25 lbs! I never felt better in my life. People at work noticed my weight loss and commented on it which made me feel amazing. Telling me how I looked really good. Around the same time I upgraded my fashion sense. Bought new pants, shirts, jackets, and shoes that i wouldn't normally wear. I used to wear only black. Now i have colors, Blue, Red, Brown, Light Grey. And for the first time in my life I felt, and looked great! My abilities to talk to strangers got slightly better. I managed the courage to talk to a random stranger and get her phone number. Nothing ever happened between us. She kept cancelling dates which kinda took a toll on my confidence. I started to feel bad again but i really tried to brush it off.This is around the time I started reading self improvement books, and following the advice. I started picking up minor hobbies, other than sitting in my room playing video games, that could help me in social situations for when i couldn't think of anything to say or do. For anyone interested in that, i took up minor card magic, and playing the guitar. I'm still working on the guitar as I'm not that good but I do love playing it and don't plan on stopping. But anyway...It was still difficult to talk to someone with the intention of having no expectations, when deep down I wanted to be in their company. I wanted their attention. Whether it was being friends with them, or pursuing them as something more. So I decided to sign up for a dating app for the first time. Monday morning I got together my best pictures (I hated taking pictures I think I'm ugly so naturally I don't want to take pictures.) wrote out a bio that described me, who I was, What I enjoy doing, and all that fun stuff. I went on my jolly way going through others profiles, skipping the ones who i didn't think I'd have a chance with, and messaging the ones who seemed cool, or chill, or high match percentages(This was on OKCupid). After a while No one ever messaged back. Then after closing out of the app, about an hour later I get a message that someone liked me AND messaged me first. I decided to check out who it was, and she was pretty cute. her profile was perfect. We have the exact same interest in music, similar hobbies, similar interests all around. We started talking on the app and I stalled a lot. I had no idea what to say the entire time, but she stuck it out. after not knowing what to say for even longer I simply asked what is a perfect date in her eyes. She gave so many answers, a different one for different weather conditions, different kind of moods and all that. Then she just gave me her phone number and told me to text her whenever. I felt so happy! but decided not to call any of the shots while I was feeling this way. so I went off to bed.Next day I ask if she would like to go to this coffee shop in this area that I go to quite a bit because its a nice place to walk, and I know that the coffee shop is an amazing one, that not many people know about. Sadly she declined it because she didn't the area because she had an abusive ex who lived around there so I understood. Rather than just declining she instead declined, and then suggested we go this other place. It was a hookah lounge. I've never been to one before and I'm down to try anything at least once so why not. so we decide a time, and made sure we both knew it was a date. the days leading up to the date we continued to talk, and without really knowing each other she kept me nice names like ,sweetie, Hun, and handsome. I thought it was a little weird but brushed it off. I got more and more nervous the closer the day came. The day of she texted me asking if were still meeting up. She can't drive so I was picking her up at her place. and knowing we were going to be in a confined space for about a 20 minute drive made so god damn nervous. like 10x more nervous than the actual date. Anyway...The time comes around, I made sure to shower, clean up my beard, wear something nice but not formal. I smelled good, looked good, and felt good. I go and knock on her door and she answers. Tells me to come in because she was still getting ready. I waited so awkwardly with her mother and sister in the room. (Yes I introduced myself, I just didn't know what to say.) after leaving walking toward my car, she said it was nice to finally meet and we had a small awkward hug. I never realized, how short 5'3 really was until i was that close. I'm 6'2. She was so tiny compared to me. We didn't talk too much during the drive. We played music we both liked, and talked about the songs. Finally got to the place and told I have never done anything like this before so i was kinda excited for it. She seemed happy. We go in and the place is full of these lounging areas. like 9 in total. laid back couches around a table, pillows, dim lighting, good music, television, and just a generally chill atmosphere. I was still so nervous though!We go and get our table and I let her pick her seat first so I could sit next to her, and talked about the flavors we could pick from and went with one that was her favorite. I'm sitting there feeling awkward trying my hardest to make conversation. talking about the music in the lounge talking about our lives, how school was blah blah. after smoking the hookah for a while, I got much more comfortable being so close to another person, and talking for so long (I'm very introverted) talked more about our interests and our friend groups. after a while of this, I kept trying to think of ways to touch her, so she knew I was into her more than just a friend. Bless her soul, she eventually made the first move, just a small one, she pressed her head into my shoulder for a few seconds and then lifted it off. I looked at her and smiled, and then didn't do anything. I didn't touch her. still.After more smoking and more talking. She lays her head on my shoulder again but leaves it longer. I told myself this is it touch her. So i just did a small move, and put my hand on her leg. It seems so simple but for me this was such a huge move. after sitting like this for a while, she started to run her fingers along my arm. I wanted to hold her hand really badly. So i thought quickly for this one. I was so proud of myself for thinking of it so fast and then acting on it, rather than talking myself out of it. I just asked "How small are your hands?" as I held my hand that was on her leg up, with my palm facing us. So she just put her hand on mine. Holy fuck her hands were so tiny. I'm a big guy, lets just say, my pinky was bigger than all of her fingers. her palm on mine her fingers only went up to a little past the first joint on my fingers. Her hand were so soft, so I said that. and that my hands are like sand paper. She said I just have man hands. Made me smile lol.After holding our hands up comparing them for a bit i just slid my fingers in between hers and held her hand. Holding hand, with her laying on my shoulder made me feel so good about myself. It reminded me that she was into me, and didn't mind me touching her. I played with her hand as I held it running my thumb up and down her hand so i wasn't too boring. I didn't know what to do. I've never held hands before. She excused herself for a second to go to the bathroom, and I decided to re-position how i was sitting into more of a mix between laying and sitting back. she came back sat real close to me, and we talked a bit more. a good portion of the time there we didn't really talk. we talked here and there but not much. she eventually asked if she could lay on my chest, like more of a lay perpendicular to me and rest her head on my chest. of course I let her. and when she did i wrapped my arm around her midriff and she just held my arm. She knew a lot of the people that worked there, and at one point one of her friends came up and asked if she was sleeping. I looked down and she had her eyes closed, but she wasn't sleeping, when i looked down she looked up at me, and sat up. still leaning on me though. she held my hand and ran her hand up and down my arm. I knew she wanted me to do something to advance. I was nervous. I was comfortable holding her but knowing she wanted me to kiss her, made me kinda scared.I didn't know how to kiss. her friend walked away, and she turned to me. I smiled and said she was really warm, and I was having a great time, even though I'm quiet. She smiled and I felt like it was now or never. I leaned in and slowly closed my eyes and we kissed. My first kiss. I instantly wondered if she knew. and when i pulled away she blushed, and smiled. I said "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible kisser." She said It was nothing to worry about, and smiled again. I moved my hand to her cheek and decided to kiss her again. longer this time. coming back in right after the first one. She slowly opened her mouth and slid her tongue along mine. And for what felt like and eternity we just made out. It felt like it was just us in the building. Everything went quiet. after a while I smiled and pulled away. She said "Nope, not a bad kisser." (probably being nice but i hope not lol) I felt so good about myself. I really liked kissing her. We just stayed there and cuddled more. I loved holding her, and having her hold me. I felt so happy. After a little while. we sat up and talked to the other people that joined our table. after they left her friends joined around us and we all just talked. laughed. They were drinking and offered me some moonshine and beer but i declined. we sat so close to each other. It felt so perfect. I've been missing out my whole life. i had my arm around her and she laid back on me while we all talked. we were there for like 4 hours. before i asked if she wanted to go. we hadn't realized how long we'd been there.Honestly I didn't want to go but I also didn't want to over stay my welcome at this place. It was pretty cheap for how long we were there. Awesome place. I will 100% be going back with or without her. hopefully with. drive back to her place was pretty quiet. we got there and held hands as i walked her back to her place. she unlocked her door and said she had a really great time. and got really close to me. did the same as before. small kisses. then made out for a bit before saying our good nights. told me to text her if i got home safe. texted her and she responded with a paragraph and a half on how much she enjoyed the night and my company, and how i wasn't pushy, or overly sexual. told me she wanted the night to last forever, and felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with me. Of course I responded similarly.It was honestly one of, if not the, best nights of my life. I felt so special, and now she sends me texts asking how i am throughout the day, and even though i'm quiet it absolutely loved it. neither one of us can wait to see each other again.TL;DR:Went on first date ever. 0 experience. Had a great time, Kissed, cuddled, held hands. 10/10 would do it again.QuestionsShe calls me names like Sweetie, and Handsome. I want her to feel reciprocated, what can I do, or say to make her feel the same way?She knows I'm a virgin but I don't think she knows she is the first person I've ever kissed. I kind of want to tell her but not too sure if it should. What are your thought? Tell her? How to bring it up? When to bring it up?She also talks about her son and his father (not really in her life anymore) quite a bit and it makes me a little uncomfortable. How can I either relate to what she's talking about or bring up that it makes me uncomfortable? it doesn't bother me that she talks about them I just have nothing to say because I literally can't relate.Lastly, I really do enjoy talking to her, she's one of the easier people to talk to, brings up topics, asks questions, and just has something to say generally which takes most of the silence away and puts me much more at ease.. But I still feel like I don't contribute enough, my mind is always just thinking "What should I say?" Even though the talking is great. I love just chilling not talking too. How could I propose such a thing, of getting together, to be in each others company, but not really talk? I know I'm weird.Anyway for those of you who stuck around thanks. Hopefully this can inspire some people to stick through the tough times. It can get easier, you just have to be willing to let change happen. via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit

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