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folkloreguk · 4 years

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Still The Louvre (m)

A/N: Someone requested this and I hope you like it! This happens when you have Lorde’s Melodrama on repeat whilst writing…thanks for inspiring me queen (although I’m not sure why breakup songs made me write this lol) Also Merry early Christmas to those who celebrate!! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fluff, smut, car sex, childhood friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst but only for 0.5 minutes maybe, I hope this heals someone who’s given up on finding love, you all deserve someone who sees the best in you!!!

words: ~ 3.9 k

“We’re just friends. Guys and girls can be friends! We’ve always been best friends, ever since we were seven. Nothing more.” That’s what you used to say. Now look who was the clown in those conversations all along. You guessed correctly - it was you. Because on your sixteenth birthday, he showed up in his black tee and baseball jacket, with your favorite candy and a heart-shaped necklace. Little did he know, if you could, you would have carved his initials into it, right there and then. Because it was that day, you understood one thing. You were head over heels in love with your best friend.

You would have been the perfect high school sweethearts – had it not been for the three different girls he had dated instead of you. He always had all their hearts, the only thing he needed to do was pick. And who could blame the other girls? He was all you could ever ask for, so there was no point in being bitter about their adoration for him.

Multiple times, you had tried to convince yourself you were over him. Like when you went out with one of the popular guys, only to realize three dates in that he was the possibly most boring person you had ever encountered. Or like that one time you agreed to go to prom with the class clown. He almost made you spit out your drink of laughter all night long, but when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat at the end of it all, you changed your mind. Your most successful boyfriend stayed for a full six months, before leaving you. He had been jealous of your relationship with your best friend. And you couldn’t even resent it. Your then-boyfriend had been in second place all along, and you should have never even dated him.

Long story short, whenever you looked at boys, you compared them to your best friend. And your best friend was an invincible competitor. It was safe to say, your teenage years weren’t what the films made them out to be. Except if there was a movie about a girl who cried so much about her best friend who she loved, she almost thought there was something seriously wrong with her. Some days the pain was so heavy, you’d get mad at him for no reason. Then you’d have to tell him lies that wouldn’t worry him and move on. Who could you tell? Your best friend was the one supposed to help you through boy trouble, wasn’t he? Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for you.

But that was the past. Lately, life was better. You couldn’t pinpoint when you first noticed the way he looked at you. Was it when he told you he felt like no boy in the world would be good enough for you, so maybe he should date you instead? It sounded like a joke, but his eyes said differently. Or was it when he asked you to sleep in his bed instead on his spare mattress at one of your sleepovers you’d had since you were eleven? He held you without words being shared, and neither of you addressed it in the morning. Maybe you both knew what it meant, either way. The mere thought of him liking you back was almost unbelievable for you. But after last night, you had no doubt. You had been in the elevator in the cinema with him. It was only ten seconds, and before you could have kissed his face that was inches from yours, the doors had opened. But he had chuckled and grinned at you for thrice the time afterwards. As if you had a new inside joke now.

It seemed you both knew what you wanted. But were you willing to take your friendship to that level?

Today, you were sure you were willing. Your heart almost ached in desire for him when you saw him standing with your shared friends. There, on the beach in the dark of night, with a bonfire drawing the warmest orange glow on his skin, you thought he had never looked more handsome. It was a small get-together between old school friends you both hadn’t seen in a while. And you should have been all over them, asking them about their lives and how they’ve been. Instead you only had eyes for the person you saw every day of your life. You swore you’d never get enough of his sweet smile and eyes so trustworthy you wanted to put all your deepest secrets right into his hands. His chest was heaving from laughter as he pat his friend’s shoulder in agreement. Oh, how dearly you wanted that hand to slip into your very own.

It was a warm night, you had been eating marshmallows, sharing genuine laughter and looking up at the stars and the full moon. Only one thing could have made your experience better, or one person, rather. You silently cursed yourself, because the night was coming to an end – some people had already left – and you still hadn’t made your move on him like you had planned it. But then your song played from the speaker. The very song you two always played in your car whenever you drove somewhere together. Every small beat reminded you of him and the lyrics were carved into your heart, it seemed.

When he noticed, his eyes shot up and met yours. They crinkled up into a smile that you returned. Finally, he made his way over to you and automatically your arms opened for him. Like coming home, he melted into your figure, arms mellow around your body. Quietly, he sang along into your ear, like every little word was meant just for you. You only pulled away slightly, so you could look at each other’s faces. You could’ve cried, realizing the time you had waited for him had been worth it after all. He was giving you a look you had thought would be forever reserved for other girls – but never for you. The starry sky above you wouldn’t stand a chance compared to his dreamy eyes and the fresh ocean air could easily be forgotten, if it meant to be in his arms and breathe in his familiar scent. If you leaned forward only a little, you could kiss him.

“Guys, we’re headed off,” a voice interrupted you.

“We should get going too, don’t you think?” he said. Almost mechanically, you nodded. You reminded yourself that you would still be in the car with him for twenty minutes until you’d arrive at home. And he’d stay at your place. You had him all night long. As you walked to your car, his hand brushed against yours softly, and you weren’t sure if it was just an accident, at first. But he was smiling as if he knew everything when you looked over at him and there you had your answer. The moment he had sat down in the passenger seat of your car, he was digging around for a CD to play. He settled for a playlist he had made for you in spring.

There was so much to be said and simultaneously silence had never felt more comfortable while you drove. You were going south along the high cliffs to your right. It was truly the most beautiful part of your hometown.

“I hate driving here,” you said.

“You don’t like driving along the cliffs? Too dangerous?” he asked.

“No. It’s too beautiful here to just look straight ahead at the road,” you said. He chuckled.

“We can stop at the tourist spot if you want to look at the sea,” he suggested. You smiled because he knew you so well. The ‘tourist spot’ really was a small parking spot right by the road, with space for about ten cars. You could already see it ahead of you. On sunny days lots of people driving down the coast liked to stop there for a rest and to take photos. Now, it was completely empty, of course. You parked at the spot closest to the cliff, so you could look down at the sea without having to get out of your car.

The slow playlist he had made for you was still playing when you switched off the engine. You knew right then and there, no matter where the night went, you’d remember this moment forever. The glow of the full moon was sparkling on the wild billows beneath you. Your eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment, as if you could have seen the closest island if only you paid enough attention. But it was only a wild vastness seemingly without end. Momentarily, you thought you spotted something in the water. Whales? But when you looked closer, there was nothing but the white and dark blue colors of the tempestuous waves.

“It’s gorgeous,” you spoke into the silence, your chin resting on your forearms on the steering wheel. You waited for his response. When it didn’t come, you turned to look his way. He was already looking at you. If cupid was real, he had just fired another arrow at your heart. Never could you have guessed how your best friend’s foolish grin could have made your heart skip a beat like this. Without another thought entering your head, you bent over to him. He knew what it meant when you mirrored his smile.

And then, you closed your eyes. You could admit it now - every time you had blown out your birthday candles, this was all you had ever wished for. His lips fit so perfectly onto yours. After the amount of times you had imagined it, really kissing him still was so much better than it had ever felt in your wildest dreams. His hands tangled in your hair and you almost couldn’t breathe. But then again, you didn’t need to. Right then, you didn’t need anything but him. For the first time, you touched the back of his neck in the way you had always wanted to – to pull his mouth closer to yours.

When you pulled away, everything in you screamed ‘Do it again! Now!’. It was as if your mind was worried that he would slip right through your fingertips if you didn’t hold him close to you for the rest of your life. Too many times you had thought that maybe you could have him, only to be let down because your hopes were too high.

“When did you first want to do this?” you asked, because you needed to know.

“About four months ago, probably. What about you?” he said. His hand was still on yours, as if to say “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere”.

“Ever since I was sixteen,” you said. You could have lied, but what was the use? You loved him too much to ever deceive him. His eyes widened. His hurt was yours, and so you understood the way your words must had pierced through his heart. Now he knew. You could practically read it in his eyes, how he realized the pain, the jealousy and disappointment he had caused, for years, without ever intending to do so. And although you should have wanted him to understand your hurt, the guilt and pain in his look was unbearable.

“It’s not your fau-“ you started.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “I’m so sorry – god I’m such an ignorant asshole.”

“No!” you said, taking his hand in both of yours. “You are my best friend, and you have caused me endless hours of happiness. I would have taken any sadness if it meant I could be your best friend forever.”

His eyes were watering and your heart felt like someone had gripped and twisted it in their bare hands.

“I was dating people and you had to sit and watch,” he said in disbelief.

“It meant to see you happy,” you said. “Hating you or those girls wouldn’t have changed your feelings for me. Because we don’t choose what we feel and for whom we feel things.”

“I love you,” he let out. “I’m so in love with you and I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life, I swear.”

His words hit you like a torrent and you didn’t even care about the years of hurt anymore.

“There’s nothing you need to make up to me. I just need you to be here with me. Let me love you the way I’ve secretly loved you all this time,” you said. You touched foreheads until your breaths mixed.

“I’m yours – all yours,” he said. “I’m sorry. It took so long for me to realize and you were here all along, waiting for me. I never wanted to hurt you. How can I apologize properly?”

“Just kiss me again, please,” you said, almost begged. “Kiss me and it’ll all go away.”

And so he did. You had never known how much emotion could be in a kiss. But then again, you had never felt this strongly for anyone else but him. You deepened the kiss, bending almost all the way over to his side of the car. His hands were touching your cheeks so gently, but they were coaxing you closer and closer. When his tongue stroked over your bottom lip, you sighed against his mouth.

“I want you,” you admitted. You thought about driving home, but you needed to be honest to yourself. Driving in this state of mind was probably not safe.

“Backseat?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours alone. Hastily, you nodded. He climbed back there first, then you followed. It was only ten seconds that you couldn’t hold him for, but you yearned for him more than ever when you finally sat down in his lap, facing him. Without hesitation, your hungry mouths attacked each other again. You swore, you could have sat there all night long, kissing and touching him, if there hadn’t been something you wanted even more.

Swiftly, you slid his shirt over his head. Of course, you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with his chest practically heaving against yours, never with your hands being able, being allowed to touch him. Your fingertips were shaky against his smooth skin and you must had looked at him as if he was carved directly from marble. So he put his fingers under your chin and you looked into his eyes. If his body was marble, his eyes were diamonds. Ever so gently, he kissed you again. For a while you sipped on each other’s lips, only pulling away for a moment so you could remove your own shirt. You had opted to not wear a bra that day, out of comfort but also laziness. All along you used to think that saying someone’s eyes darkened in lust was an exaggeration, but when you looked into his, you understood. It was true. The way he eyed you was beyond all your most daring dreams you had ever dreamt about him.

Your lips meddled messily as his hands ran down your body starting from your neck, to your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples. He was careful not to tickle you, knowing from hundreds of childhood play fights where your weak spots were. Your back arched against his chest, wanting more than his careful touches. On impulse, your hips ground against his crotch. As if on cue, you both let out strained noises. By now, your breaths were heavy when you pulled away shortly. Dreamy eyed, he touched the pendant of the necklace between your collar bones.

“I gave you that…,” he started.

“For my sixteenth birthday,” you finished his sentence. You caught a flash of regret in his gaze, but you weren’t going to let him feel that way. Not now. Like you had wanted to so many times, you bent to his neck and began peppering kisses on his skin.

“Can I give you a hickey?” you whispered, almost afraid you were still in a dream.

“Just one?” he asked, and even without looking at him you could hear the grin in his voice. After sharing him with so many girls for so long, it almost felt selfish. But you reminded yourself that he wanted you now, after all. He groaned when your teeth grazed his skin and you sucked purple marks onto his neck and shoulder. His restless hands touched all over your boobs and hips, down to your ass where they slid into the back pockets of your pants for a moment. Again, you pressed your crotch against his hips, yearning for any kind of friction. At the same time, your hand wandered along his chest to the hem of his pants. Without looking, you opened his belt and the zipper of his bottoms.

He hissed when you grabbed his clothed dick through his underwear and his fingers dug into your sides. A few times you pumped his already hard shaft through the material. Then he moaned your name and you had never heard anything more perfect. The mere sound of his breathy, husky voice turned you on so much more than you had ever imagined.

“Fuck me, please,” you spoke, kissing him deeply. He hummed a needy yes against your lips and nodded. You climbed off him so you could lie down on the seats. He wriggled out of his pants and then helped you out of your own. When he lay down between your thighs and you felt his weight on top of you, it seemed like he had always belonged right there. It had been a hauntingly long journey, but now that you knew the end of it, you accepted all the sleepless nights you had experienced.

“Hold on,” you said, finding your bag on the floor to reach for the condom inside. He hummed a thank you as he ripped the pack and rolled the rubber over his stiff member. His fingertips teased the inside of your thighs, while he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your neck. A drawn out moan of agreement left your lips and momentarily, your eyes shut in the bliss of anticipation.

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight,” he said. His fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness. You couldn’t help but whimper at the contact, and maybe also slightly because his words made your heart swell in the most marvelous way possible. Through flattering eyelids, you watched his stupidly handsome features as he curled his fingertips against your clit. All of you wanted more, but you only managed to moan his name in pleasure.

“You ready?” he asked, and you weren’t sure if you brain had even processed the amount of rapture he was causing you – but of course you were. You had been for years.

“Yes,” you said. Just for a moment, he run the tip of his cock through your wet folds. When he finally entered you, you realized you had been holding your breath – now it came out in a relieved sigh. He groaned at the mere sensation of filling you up, and when you opened your eyes to look at him it almost made you dizzy in admiration. Gradually, he thrusted into you, hips fitting against yours like two puzzle pieces finally united.

As he picked up the pace, you moaned in surprise but more in agreement. You felt his hand on yours and linked your fingers. Other men had made you feel good before – but only now you realized how true those statements from women were, when they said that nothing was like sleeping with the one you were in love with. The mixture of pleasure and the way you mooned over his whole being was a lot to take in. But it would never be too much. He was perfect for you. When you threw your head back you spotted the full moon and the brightest stars in the sky, trying to outshine each other.

He hit a spot inside of you that made you arch your back off the seats. Tightly, you shut your eyes and squeezed his hand.

“Oh my- You feel so good,” you moaned. When you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours, you opened your eyes. They met his galaxy eyes, and his mouth was parted slightly. You could barely breathe at the way he looked at you. When would anyone else ever see you in this way? It didn’t matter, you only wanted him either way.

He reached for the back of your thigh, lifting your leg slightly. The different angle felt even better, making you whimper and grab the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for somewhere to hold on to. He groaned when you pulled his hair a little, and you smirked. You could barely wait to find out all the other things he liked and wanted to do to you in the future. But for now, you weren’t in a rush. It had been a long time since you had felt so at peace and full of happiness. Time was nonexistent right then. All you knew were his soft lips on your jaw and the way his perfect cock was making you see a blur of stars in front of your eyelids.

“I’m gonna- come,” you whimpered.

“Hmm…me too,” he groaned. “Let go for me, baby.”

His hand came in contact with your clit, feverishly rubbing the sensitive nub. The nickname he had called you would have made your cheeks heat up, had they not already been that way from the intensity of your emotions. Your stomach tightened and you only wanted to pull him closer to you.

He reached his high shortly before you did. A few curses fell off his lips as you felt him twitch inside of you, hips moving in sharp thrusts. Even if you had wanted to look at him, it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open, as his fingers still worked their magic on you. His last thrusts were hard and short, but they sent you over the edge too. Just as he pulled out, you met your climax. It was like falling but knowing there was a pair of gentle arms right there to catch you, so you didn’t have to be scared. You moaned his name, and this time he was actually here to hear it. Your chest pressed against his, foreheads touching, your legs tightened around his waist from sensitivity. After slowing down, he removed his fingers from your center completely.

Together, you lay in silence trying to catch your breaths and clear your heads. You scooted over a little, so he could balance his body on his side next to you. Light as a feather, his fingers brushed over your lips, before he bent down and kissed you again. This time it was a long kiss, with less need but even more passion. For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned reality. Almost as if to check if it really was him, you stroked over his cheek and gazed up at him. But he was right there. Your best friend. Now more than your best friend. Through the opened crack of the car window you made out the crashing waves that caressed the cliffs underneath you two. Mingled with your song playing from the car’s speakers, the mysterious noise seemed to pick you up and tell you “Look at what you’ve been through, only one last time, then put it behind you. You’re where you’re supposed to be, now.”

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soldierswar · 3 years

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Shots

Bucky x Reader

Fluff. (A liiitle bit of angst if you squint.)

(Mentions of drinking).

Synopsis: It officially becomes apparent to Bucky that he is completely immune to the effects of alcohol. But without the liquid courage that he was hoping for will he have the guts to tell you how he really feels?

“Never have I ever blacked out and woken up in an unknown location.”

Bucky took three shots.

“Umm, I’m pretty sure that you’re only supposed to take one, Barnes,” you snorted.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“What are you gonna do, arrest me?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Again, why are we playing a drinking game that you probably haven’t played since you were a college freshman?” your friend Meg slurred.

“Because Meggy, I need to see this man drunk.”

Bucky gave a mockingly shocked expression with only his eyes and a slight nostril flare.

“Well, it looks like it might take a little while,” your friend Isaac stated.

“How much have you had, man?”

Bucky thought about it and shrugged, and you giggled.

You had met Bucky a lot of times when he and Sam sometimes needed intel from the CIA. Eventually, you just became the one CIA agent that they (especially Bucky) came to nowadays. As time went by you kind of became friends, and you finally had the courage to ask him to come over for a little party that you were throwing with ten or so people. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t shocked when he showed up. He seemed like quite the introvert. You were even more shocked that he stayed as long as he did with only four of you left at 1 am.

“Wait,” you snorted taking a swig of your beer.

“I wanna know where the hell you woke up.”

Bucky groaned.

“You know how it goes. I was 16, one thing led to another and I woke up shirtless in a Brooklyn park. That’s never happened to you?”

You gave him a dumbfounded look.

“No…”

“Your loss,” he teased.

“Okay, well I think that Meg has had enough,” Isaac sighed checking the time and watching her head drift around like a bobblehead at times.

“This one needs to get home.”

He went to her side placed her arm around his shoulder and picked her up.

“I’m totally capable of walking, asshole,” she protested, but gave in 0.5 seconds later and held onto him a little tighter. You could tell that she might have been acting just a little bit drunker than she actually was just to play the damsel in distress that desperately needed him.

They still hadn’t had the guts to tell you that they had been sleeping together for at the very least a good month. And you knew he would most likely be staying the night with her. But just to watch over her.

“Well take a water bottle with you,” you ordered pointing to the row of them you had set out on the counter.

“Aye aye, captain,” she slurred again sloppily saluted you.

“Don’t worry,” Isaac reassured.

“I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”

“I’m sure you will,” you nodded.

He gave you a suspicious glare.

“Okay well I’ll see you on Monday Y/L/N,” he continued.

“And I’ll see you…whenever, Barnes.”

Bucky raised his drink to that and said goodbye as they walked out the door.

“Are they gonna be okay?” Bucky asked.

“They took a cab here. Do you honestly think that I’d let either one of them get in the drivers’ seat? After trying to compete with you?”

Bucky gave a slight shrug.

“Anyways,” he groaned like an old man while getting up.

“I’m gonna help you clean up.”

You looked around at the living room with multiple dirty dishes, and almost finished platter of nachos, and leftover pizza.

“It’s fine,” you reassured.

“I’ll just do it in the morning or something.”

But he protested by picking up some of your plastic cups. One thing you learned about Bucky, one could never stop him from doing what he wanted to do. So you gave in and followed his direction and began picking up.

As time passed while you were reorganizing the apartment from its party layout you learned that Bucky was actually pretty funny. He’d tell little stories about stupid things he’d done in past times and present times, along with asking you about yourself. But he was a little bit shy about it as if not wanting to pry. But you liked it. You really liked his company.

“Okay Barnes, tell me,” you inquired while wiping the last plate in the dish pile.

He was standing barely two feet away from you leaning with his back against the counter and sipping a glass of your strongest whisky.

“How are you still seemingly so sober? Are you just an insanely good actor? Or is your tolerance just impossibly good?”

Bucky sighed.

“I have a suspicion that…I don’t think I can feel anything from alcohol anymore.”

You shook your head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I said,” he retorted.

Okay fair enough.

“Since I’ve been…back I’ve noticed that no matter how much I drink nothing happens. I think tonight especially attested to that. Damn, I really should have asked Steve about that.”

His expression drifted off a little bit before catching himself and continuing.

“I think the only appeal is the burn now. And good alcohol still tastes good.”

You thought about what that would be like. You weren’t by any means a heavy drinker, but you wondered what drinking booze was like without feeling a buzz. Non-alcoholic beer never appealed to you one bit.

“That sounds like it kind of sucks. No more waking up shirtless in Central Park.”

He rolled his eyes and flashed a somewhat tortured smile.

“You’re telling me.”

His expression drifted off again with his eyes glazing over. And he seemed to look a little bit uncomfortable.

“Well you’re pretty fun to be around regardless,” you said.

He smiled.

“I’m glad you think so. I’m not always…great at these sorts of things.”

He took another huge gulp finishing what was left in his glass. It must just be a nervous force of habit.

“I, um…I uh…” he stuttered.

“I probably could have used a bit of liquid courage.”

Why did he seem so shy? And damn why did that shyness make your heart skip a few beats?

You looked into his beautiful blue eyes staring back at you sincerely. And for some reason, your next inclination was to sit on the counter leaving only a few inches of gap between the two of you.

“What for?”

He cleared his throat looking down for a few seconds before meeting your gaze again.

“It’s stupid,” he said shaking his head.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you said in a soft surprised tone.

“You may make some pretty stupid impulsive decisions sometimes, but I’ve known you to never say anything stupid.”

All he did was stare into your eyes making your heart flutter and beat so hard in your chest that you almost couldn’t stand it. He was not making the whole liking him without having the courage to tell him thing very easy.

He smiled looking down at the floor again.

“I uh…” he took a deep breath. You were pretty sure that he wished that he could take a real drink.

“I think that there’s something you should know.”

You were generally really good at reading people. It was pretty much your job to do so, but there was no way that you were reading him correctly at this moment.

He then reached his hand forward and pulled a stray strand of hair back.

“You want me to know that my hair’s a mess?”

He smiled and exhaled through his nose. But he didn’t move his hand. With incredibly wide pupils he stared into yours, and you kept your nervous gaze locked on him. Was this really happening?

And before you knew it he was kissing you. And you kissed him. You couldn’t stop kissing him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was stop kissing him even if it meant never coming back for air. But eventually, he pulled away to where his lips were not two inches away from yours and gave you that devilishly charismatic smile.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

You giggled and pulled his face back to yours again and let him kiss you deeper as you held his face in one hand brushing his cheek with your thumb. There was no moment in your life that ever felt as perfect as this moment felt. And you hoped that he felt even half as much the same.

For the rest of the night, you spent time on your couch continuing to talk, and laugh, and just overall get to know each other. And of course, he or you would initiate a break by kissing some more. And next thing you knew the sun was coming up and it eventually was a bright sunny day.

You didn’t even realize when you had fallen asleep. The last thing you remembered was you sitting on his lap and talking about something that you couldn’t remember. All you knew was that you were comfortable with your head resting on his chest hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his chest. He too was asleep with his chin resting on the top of your head. You hoped that he wasn’t too uncomfortable by seemingly not wanting to wake you up. But he didn’t really seem to be. He was still as a statue.

You decided that it was time to move and scooted onto the couch in turn waking him up.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“I hope you’re not too hungover.”

Bucky chuckled sleepily and then checked the time on his watch. You both couldn’t believe that it was 9 am.

“I should get going,” he said and let out another old man’s groan while getting up and you followed him to the door.

“I uhh…I think it might go without saying that I was hoping to be able to see you again.”

You smiled because obviously, you were thinking the same thing.

“I mean…Outside of work…Like to hang out?”

You giggled. You didn’t expect him to continue to be shy and bashful the way that he was.

“Just give me a time and a place.”

His face lit up and he planted one more kiss on your lips causing you to blush.

“So I’ll see you?”

You gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Sooner than later,” you replied.

He nodded.

And as he walked down the hall you couldn’t help yourself but to yell out,

“Are you sure you’re sober enough?”

And of course, you smiled for at least ten minutes after he yelled at you to fuck off.

This man was a keeper.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader cute #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #reader #bucky x reader fluff

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eternally-writing · 3 years

Text

Half the World Away | pjm.

genre: angst, fluff

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jimin x reader

theme: idol!au, established relationship!au

word count: 1k

warnings: none

synopsis: You already miss Jimin whenever he’s away, and when you have a bad week you miss him a lot.

banner by me!

I wrote this drabble for part of the BTS Ghostie Writer’s Net Drabble Marathon! This drabble is based on the Song Lyrics Category prompt “Don’t say you’re okay, because you aren’t.” from Blue and Grey!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

After dating Jimin for 6 years, from pre-debut to stardom, you both had fallen into a well-oiled machine of a relationship. There were some parts that you both had agreed on together, such as “Jimin sleeps on the right side of the bed and you sleep on the left”, and “no going to bed upset with each other”, while some you had figured out on your own through some trial-and-error during your relationship.

For example, you had learned that Jimin actually hated broccoli (and I mean, truly despised it) but he never wanted to tell you since you loved it so much, but ever since then you’ve started cooking only one portion of broccoli and he couldn’t hide how grateful he was. However, the most important thing you had learned was that when Jimin was on tour he was busy - he spent morning to evening every night in rehearsals, performances, and appearances, and even on his days off he was out exploring with the boys so he didn’t have time to talk. After 5 different tours, you had learned that any correspondence from Jimin (whether it be a cute selfie of him in front of a tourist spot, or a quick good morning text even thought it was actually 1am and you were heading to bed) was something to be cherished, and you should have basically no expectations and wish for nothing more.

That’s why after you had endured an absolutely terrible week, you didn’t say a word about it to Jimin. It started with your car stalling on your way to work, then your dog had decided to rip up your new $200 dress that you had been saving up for for months, then a kid threw up on you at the grocery store ( the way kids just managed to throw up anywhere was a huge ick for you), and then last and most of all, your boss had scheduled a 10 min “check in and chat” with you at 5pm on Friday, which resulted on you being fired for your job.

Dating an idol had taught you to be very self sufficient, but on nights like this, when you were crying on your couch, greasy pizza in hand, and clutching a Charmander plushie Jimin won for you at a carnival as if it could act as any sort of replacement for him, you wanted nothing more than Jimin by your side. No matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to replace him.

That’s why as you saw Jimin’s name pop up on your screen, with the word “FaceTime” underneath, you prayed to every single god out that there that you’d be able to keep yourself together for the probable 5 minutes that he’d have to spend with you.

It was Jimin who spoke first, appearing with a huge grin on his face and cheering with a “hi babe! How’s it going?”

You attempted to carrying on small talk with Jimin, updating him with the very small list of things that had gone well since you had last been in contact with him. You tried your best to muster up adequate reactions while Jimin was recounting his tour adventures, and maybe you could have done a better job of it if you weren’t constantly trying to hold back tears.

The thing was, while you had been making your own list of things you had learned about your relationship, you failed to realize that Jimin was doing the same as well. He picked up on your quirks, like how you had black coffee in the morning but took yours with 2 cream in the evening, and how you hated when movies had sad endings so he always looked up the endings of movies beforehand to make sure they didn’t upset you. He knew that you stopped making as much broccoli as him because you had realized he didn’t like it, so he made sure to show you how much he appreciated it every time.

Jimin saw the way your eyes shined in the reflection of the light from your phone, and if that wasn’t enough for him to deduce your emotions, you also touched your hair every 0.5 seconds - something he had learned was a dead giveaway that you were seconds away from sobbing.

“Y/N, baby…”

You could immediately hear the instant switch to a patronizing tone in Jimin’s voice, but you took a deep breath in efforts to shake the lump in your throat, ruffling your hair again to try and calm your feelings.

“I’m fine Jimin, really, perfect okay. Tell me about what you did today in Osaka! Did you end up going to Disney like you wanted?” You couldn’t stop your voice from cracking in the middle of your sentence.

As if through divine intervention, a savior in the form of Jungkook came bursting through Jimin’s door with a chorus of “Hyung, our break is over!”. However, for the first time in your relationship, Jimin shushed Jungkook, begging him to cover for him and that he had something important to tend.

Your eyes wanted to water just at that last sentence. You didn’t know how much you missed being important to Jimin until he said it out loud.

“Babe, I know something’s wrong and I want you to tell me, okay? No matter what, I’m going to be here to help you through it - there’s nothing that we can’t handle together. Don’t pretend you’re okay, because you aren’t".

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read please make sure to interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡ - Emily

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jimlingss · 4 years

Note

ooo exciting !!! jungkook + romance/fluff + "kiss me" + e2l

Anonymous said: Can I request a fluffy jungkook fic with a touch of angst. Any AU you want and maybe a friends to lovers? Feel free to decline :)

Anonymous said: a fluffy “oh! you’re jealous” prompt with Jungkook pls? any au is fine☺️

Anonymous said: jungkook, prompt list 1 - #27: “Are you blushing?” :> i hope you have a lovely holiday season!!

Anonymous said: Friends to lovers!! Or enemies to lovers pls!! I love that shit

This is the most ambitious crossover of requests since Avengers lol jk.

↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised!

1.9k || 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || E2L, Huddle For Warmth!AU (sort of)

It started off with Jungkook coming out of nowhere and nearly scaring the living daylights out of you.

He laughed — that noisy sound that makes his nose scrunch — and you rolled your eyes, turning back around in the line. When the ski lift chair arrived, he asked if he could come too. You told him to kindly fuck off, but in the next second, he slid next to you, smiling widely.

It was too late for him to get off. Not when your feet was already lifted off the ground.

You don’t know why he’s so adamant about bothering you. If Taehyung didn’t tell you at the last minute that Jungkook was coming along, you would’ve just not come on this trip and ruin your winter break like this.

“Why didn’t you go with Sana?”

The ski lift is ascending upwards at an incline, moving past the coniferous trees and those skiing down the mountain beneath you. Luckily, it wasn’t too sunny or snowy out. But the air was still sharp with frost that’s long made your cheeks numb. Every exhale past your parted lips creates a cloud of condensation.

Jungkook’s thick brow lifts and he pushes his ski goggles up onto his head, on top of his blue beanie like yours. His doe eyes look at you. “Why would I go with her?”

You shoot him an incredulous expression. You don’t know why he’s playing dumb. “I thought you were trying to get cozy with her.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth slyly curls and he leans in. “Oh. You’re jealous.”

Instantly, your face contorts into a disgusted expression and a boyish laugh bubbles out of him.

“I would,” he says, “but she already has a boyfriend.”

“She does?”

Jungkook hums. “Some guy two years older than us, majoring in finance.”

Oh. You didn’t know that.

Suddenly it sinks in that you’re having an actual conversation with Jungkook. One where he’s being a cocky asshole only a tiny amount and you can actually bear through it. It almost feels like you’re….friends.

But right as the thought comes to mind, the ski lift chair halts and momentarily swings. You jolt, looking at the chair ahead of you that’s frozen as well before turning around. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Everyone is seemingly as confused as you are. “It looks like we’re stuck.”

You groan. “Oh shit.”

Five minutes later, Taehyung comes wandering underneath you. He stands by a tree on the sidelines and cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I finally found you guys!”

“Taehyung!” You shout back at him. “What’s going on?!”

“Well, I was looking around for ages and Jimin wanted to give up since he thought you went down to the lodge and I told him no way—”

“Dude!” Jungkook shrieks and you wince at the sheer volume of his voice. “We get it!”

You remember why he grinds on your nerves so badly. Everything Jeon Jungkook does just irritates you. Including the fact that he was currently trying to burst your eardrums.

“Right! Sorry! They said it would be fixed in half an hour! Hang in there!” Taehyung fist pumps the air with a rectangular grin as if it’s enough to encourage the two of you and you sigh loudly.

“Whelp.” Jungkook settles back into his seat. “Looks like we won’t die.”

“Great.”

“Are you cold?”

You turn to the boy, surprised that he’s actually considerate enough to—

“We could always get naked, you know,” he adds, shattering the image of him that had curated in your mind for point two seconds and it flees as quickly as it came. “To converse heat.”

Your mouth opens, speechless. You shake your head. “Right when I thought you were being nice to me for once.”

Jungkook grins unabashedly. “I am being nice. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt like this with anyone else and if you ask me, I think it’s working too.” The bastard leans in and you lean backwards to keep more distance. He bats his pretty lashes. “Are you blushing?”

You deadpan, “It’s literally negative thirty degrees out.”

He laughs again.

The both of you get comfortable, laying your ski poles across your laps, and looking out at the snowy mountain landscape that’s all too peaceful. Or at least until you feel a poke through your puffed jacket.

You look down to find Jungkook handing you a heat pack from his pocket. “It’s not much but it might help.”

“....Thanks.”

Strangely, the guy doesn’t brag about how kind he is or how much you should appreciate the gesture. He simply starts to hum to kill time. It’s soothing. Kind of nice to listen to even.

You enjoy it until he abruptly stops and asks— “Why do you hate me so much?”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Jungkook smiles and it’s somehow reminiscent of a rabbit. “What? Nothing like confronting people when they’re trapped in a spot with nowhere to run, right? Plus, this is a good opportunity to be reflective, don’t you think?”

You scoff, not sure where to begin. But there’s no reason why you should spare him from the truth of why you grew to have such a strong distaste for him. If he wants to know, you’ll happily let him know.

“How about for never calling me back after you slept with me? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Jungkook’s head whirls over. The bomb’s been dropped.

You feel his stare on your profile. It goes deathly quiet.

It’s the biggest resentment you held against him, what made his cocky attitude even uglier to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so angry. It wasn’t like he vowed anything would happen afterwards. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be a no-strings attachment thing. But it wasn’t like that for you.

Jungkook acted interested when you first met. He sweet-talked you. He led you to believe there would be something more. And when there wasn’t— well, the rest is history.

You wonder if Jungkook’s shriveling up and cringing for asking in the first place or if he’s remotely ashamed. You hope he is. It serves him right. The audacity he has to talk to you casually after ghosting you so brutally like that is insulting. You wonder how he’ll respond, if he’ll regret bringing the subject up, if he’ll try to conjure some kind of half ass apology—

“Because you never gave me your number.”

This time, your neck snaps towards him. Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering.

“You’re the one who ditched me,” he says. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“I wrote you a note. On a napkin on the dresser.”

The man, in the blue snowboard jacket and black ski pants, frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“Then I never saw it.”

It’s easy for Jungkook to lie. One of his many talents is his pretty lips that has easy words rolling off his tongue like butter. But by his expression, the slight pout of his mouth, the furrow of his brows, you can tell he’s being genuine. There isn’t any facade, any flirtation.

“I would’ve remembered if I saw it cause that morning Taehyung woke me up and he never wakes up before me. But he was whining because of his allergies and needed me to run to the pharmacy—”

The pair of you go silent.

It dawns on you both.

Kim Taehyung.

Knowing Taehyung and his godforsaken allergies, he must’ve taken the napkin and sneezed right into it. He probably threw it in the trash or took it with him and crumpled it into his hand. God fucking dammit.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes rounded at the realization.

You shift uncomfortably. The possibilities of what-if storm your mind. What if Jungkook saw it, what if he texted you or called you afterwards like he promised. What if you didn’t meet again on accident through Taehyung but continued the communication yourselves. Could he be sitting here next to you as someone more in your life?

But you brush the thoughts away as it overwhelms you.

“That’s funny,” you pipe up, mustering some stiff laughter, breaking the silence. “At least we solved one mystery.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s cold.” You wrap your arms around you. “We should stop talking and conserve heat.”

Jungkook nods and the pair of you quiet down. But without conversation, time drags on slower.

You peek a look at him and instead of being deep in thought like you thought he’d be, Jeon Jungkook is looking around, blinking with his doe eyes, the black strands from his bangs nearly pricking into them. He’s completely nonchalant and you internally sigh to yourself.

You’re not sure what you were expecting.

Jungkook is Jungkook.

That note on the dresser probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Y/N.” He speaks up a minute later.

“What?”

“You know how we could keep warm?”

“What.”

“Kiss me.”

You could not roll your eyes harder.

An enormous grin spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks, irises twinkling from the snow’s refraction. The little shit has too much fun annoying you and he jumps at the chance to continue to egg you on, “Why? Too scared to? Think you might fall in love with me now that we cleared the air and you don’t hate me anymore?”

He bats his lashes exaggeratedly.

You scoff. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Then why not?”

Your head spins around to face him, momentarily taken aback at how he’s a few inches away but you conceal your expression just as quick. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on this terrible joke. “Why? Do you want me to kiss you?”

Jeon Jungkook’s grin taunts you.

You loll your head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits. “You think I won’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to improve the mood.” He sits back and shrugs, having too much fun watching your explosive reactions. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you. You’re a dog with all bark but no bite, Y/N. I know you too well.”

Your jaw clenches at the challenge. At his mocking tone. At the bastard’s audacity.

And just to prove him wrong, you grab Jungkook’s face in your hands and turn him towards you. In one breath, you aggressively slam your mouth against his. It almost hurts. Your teeth nearly clash. But you barely feel anything with your numb lips except for how chapped his lips are.

It’s a brief kiss, but enough to prove yourself.

You pull away with a cocked brow and small smirk, relishing in his wholly stunned expression.

At that same moment, the ski lift jolts and starts to move again. Someone behind you cheers.

“You don’t know me at all, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur softly, seductively and with the smirk still plastered on your features. The unloading zone approaches, so you move the safety bar, stand up from the ski lift chair and glide away.

Jungkook’s delayed, but follows after you helplessly a second later. You turn around while you still have the chance and he stares at you, blinking owlishly.

“If you want to make me blush or get jealous, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than you have been, Jeon. You should probably work on your kissing skills too. Staying like a dead fish isn’t appealing to me.”

You glide away on your skis before he can get another word in. In the meanwhile, a grin slowly spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks and he decides to accept your challenge.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reader insert #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #bts reader insert #Anonymous #Jimlings

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salazarslytherin · 4 years

Text

happy days (f.w x gn!y/n)

requested: nope! send in your own requests here!

summary: in which fred takes y/n on a special date

cw/tw: like maybe 0.5% angst, 99.5% fluff

word count: 2.9k

🃛 masterlist!

a/n: i'm pretty sure reader is gender neutral in this one! i made sure not to use any pronouns or prominent mentions to y/n's body or anything. i really hope y'all like it, i don't really ever write fluff so i hope it's good! please leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost xx

“Jump!”

“What?! Are you insa-”

⚔︎.

It was probably a bad idea to be doing this. Actually, it was most definitely a bad idea to be doing this. But when has a ‘bad’ idea ever deterred the infamous Fred Weasley? In fact, the thought of anyone calling one of his ideas ‘bad’ just spelt encouragement in Fred’s mind.

You’d learnt that lesson two months into meeting the Weasley twins, and it’s only engrained itself in your mind further since. There’s never been a point to try to dissuade Fred, it’s best to just go along and hope the ride isn’t too bumpy along the way. After dating Fred, these bad ideas had expanded themselves to different categories- risky places to be intimate, weird ways to cheer you up with confessions of love, and dangerously stupid dates.

The last category was where today’s bad idea landed.

⚔︎.

Three days ago, Fred had the “most ingenious, marvellous, uniquely exciting date idea Hogwarts has ever seen!” He’d disappeared in the middle of lunch, dragging George along with him, mumbling to himself, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner!”, leaving you confused, sat alone in the Great Hall.

“Where are they going?”

Harry, Ron and Hermione popped up behind you, seating themselves down in the twins’ now deserted seats.

“I have absolutely no clue.”

⚔︎.

That’s how you found yourself here, two days later. A Saturday, you were all set to go on a Hogsmeade trip with some of your Ravenclaw friends when Fred ambushed you. Popping up out of a closet and scaring the living lights out of you, he dragged you behind him, laughing as you shouted at him.

“Freddie! What are you doing? I’m supposed to go meet Renee and the others right now!”

Regardless of the fact that Fred was making you miss plans you’d already made, you were beaming from ear to ear.

“Georgie’s already told ‘em you can’t make it. Now hurry up

This being your OWLs year, you’d hardly had the time to see Fred this term, busy studying while he went off doing whatever it was he did when you weren’t around. Being a year younger meant he had already studied everything you’d studied, and while he offered to help you a lot, you’d rather he go have fun than sit around revising old material with you.

Combined with the Triwizard Tournament and the fact that the twins saw this as the golden opportunity to sell products to customers other than Hogwarts student, you’d only had three dates in the almost three months since school had started.

“Where in the name of Merlin are you bringing me, Fred!”

“You’ll see soon enough darling!”

⚔︎.

Soon enough turned out to be ten minutes later, the two of you panting as you’d finally made it all the way across to the other side of the castle and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

The sun was shining brightly down upon the two of you, the tall windows welcoming the late November winds into the room. A chest sat next to one of the ledges, Fred finally letting go of your hand for the first time in ten minutes, reaching down to open it.

He took a piece of cloth out, closing the chest before you could sneak a peek at the contents, tucking the wooden box under his arm.

“Is this the brilliant date idea you were talking about the other day? I’m not going to lie to you Freddie, cloth doesn’t really scream ingenious to me. In fact, it seems like you brought me up here to clean.”

Raising your eyebrows at the ginger, you gestured at the fabric in his hand as he laughed at you, stepping up onto the ledge.

“Fred? What’re you doing?!”

The boy turned towards you, holding out a hand.

“Come up here.”

Your eyes widened.

“No! Are you insane?”

Fred’s hand faltered a bit, arm relaxing against his body as he looked into your eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

Silent, you stepped up next to Fred, clinging onto his hip and arm, knees shaking slightly at the height you were at.

“I trust you with my life.”

Adjusting the chest under his arm, Fred pulled you into his embrace.

“That’s good to hear. Because it’s time.”

He looked down, dropping the piece of cloth, before tilting your head up to look at him, stepping one foot off the ledge and into the skies.

“Jump!”

“What?! Are you insa-”

You were cut off by screams erupting from your mouth as the ground disappeared below you- Fred pulling you with him, laughter bubbling from his chest.

“Oh my God, I’m going to die-”

You reached the ground a lot quicker than you’d thought possible, your eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the imminent death that would come.

Instead, you felt a weird, soft surface, almost like a water bed, rippling under you as you landed on your knees.

“Am I in heaven?”

Your eyes opened slowly, eyes meeting the clouds around you, only for a shadow to cover the sights surrounding you.

“No, but I think I am.”

A kiss landed on your lips as you fell back on the odd surface, Fred falling on top of you.

The kiss was short and sweet, but quickly forgotten as you remembered what had happened moments prior, hitting Fred on the chest as you took in your surroundings.

The surface you had landed on wasn’t a surface at all- in fact it was, a rug? It looked eerily similar to the cloth Fred had thrown off the tower earlier, only, about thirty times bigger, and flying.

You looked at Fred, confused. The tall ginger boy beamed back at you, gesturing grandly.

“Welcome, to your very own magic carpet ride!”

⚔︎.

After lecturing Fred on how incredibly dangerous the start of the date had been, you finally had the chance to process the reality of the date.

“Where are we going, then, on this magic carpet ride?”

The boy hummed, pulling out blankets and a pillow from the, now enlarged, chest, spreading them around the carpet that was hovering near the tip of the Astronomy Tower, awaiting further instruction from the two of you.

“Well first, I was thinking we could stop by Hogsmeade to get some snacks, maybe buy some of the Christmas gifts you wanted to go get today, then we’re flying off to explore Scotland! Well, the part of Scotland we’re in, anyways. Just for a few hours, then we’ll be back to watch the sunset.”

He looked at you for approval, which you granted with a wide smile.

“That sounds beautiful Fred.”

⚔︎.

Walking around Hogsmeade, Fred had shrunk the rug and tucked it into his pocket, the chest shrunk even smaller than it had been the first time you’d seen it.

“Alright, so I think you’ve gotten enough sugar quills to last you a lifetime. Where to next?”

Chewing on a sugar quill, you scrunched your nose in his direction, pulling him into the quaint little jewellery shop you liked to frequent.

The little old lady who owned the place was one you’d become acquainted with over the past five years, Mrs Kingston never minded that you rarely bought anything, understanding that most of her second-hand jewellery was still quite pricey for a student to afford.

Still, you tried your best to save up and buy the pieces you really liked. Recently, you’d been eyeing a necklace, a simple Celtic knot on a thin chain that shone brightly no matter how much light lit up the room. Mrs Kingston explained to you it was an old betrothal necklace, oft seen in pureblood families back in the Victorian era. It’s now seen worn by a lot of the heirs of these old families- in fact, you’d spotted Draco wearing an heirloom similar to it.

“Mrs Kingston!”

“Hello y/n, how are you?”

Fred nodded at the woman as he shuffled around the shop, looking in the display cabinets with vague interest whilst the two of you made small talk.

Your eyes wandered the familiar glass cabinet, landing on the soft velvet that was empty of the familiar Celtic knot, furrowed brows returning to meet Mrs Kingston's clouded eyes.

“The necklace!”

The woman nodded sadly, looking just as dejected as you felt.

“I'm sorry dearie. A boy came in a while ago to buy it. Might've been one of the ones you came with a few weeks back.”

Your head hung low, muttering out a soft 'oh' as she explained to you, nodding in response.

“It's okay Mrs Kingston. I'll see if there's something else I'd like to save up for instead. Thanks, see you next time!”

Thinking back to the last Hogsmeade trip when you'd come down to the shop, your heart lifted a bit, a smile returning to your face as you turned to face Fred.

“Alright, let's head to the bookstore.”

⚔︎.

The ginger's hand clutched yours tightly, the two of you cuddling under the thick blanket as you flew around mountains, pointing out animals, both magical and non-magical, that you'd seen around the place.

Fred looked at you quizzically. Since leaving Mrs Kingston's, you had seemingly forgotten the necklace. Even more, it seemed like you'd gotten happier since finding out someone had gotten the necklace. During the lunch you two had gotten at the Three Broomsticks, the both of you finding Madam Puddifoot's a bit nauseating, you were practically bouncing on your heels as you spoke to some of your friends about the upcoming Christmas celebrations.

“I thought you'd be more upset that the necklace is gone, I remember you talking about how much you liked it last time.”

You shrugged, a wider smile gracing your lips as you looked at him, nuzzling further into his chest.

“I love it! That's why I'm so happy Cedric got it for me. ”

Fred halted, pushing you away from him.

“I-, what! Why would Diggory be getting you a betrothal necklace?!”

You looked up at your boyfriend, furrowing your brows at his outburst.

“What! You know Ced's one of my best friends. Remember when we came to the shop a few weeks back? You, George and Lee were goofing around and then just bolted while I was telling Ced about the necklace. I guess he just came back to get it for me.”

Fred huffed, rolling his eyes as he heard you talk about Cedric, pulling away from you more.

“How could you be this blind!”

You looked at Fred, a bit hurt that he'd lost his temper at you for no reason.

“Why are you getting so worked up over this? It's not like he's proposing to me!”

The boy scoffed, throwing his hands up into the air.

“Well, it's clear that he'd do it without a thought! The boy's in love with you! That's the only reason why anyone would get you something that expensive!”

You laughed frigidly, shaking your head at how irrational your boyfriend was being, pushing the blanket off of you to move away from him.

“What, he can't just have gotten me the necklace because I'm a good friend? Merlin Fred, he's the only one who's actually been with me to go see the necklace, and is the only one who would logically know to get me the necklace.”

You turned to look him in the eye, your jaw clenching as he turned red.

“Besides, Cedric knows me best.”

Fred let out a frustrated 'ugh!', and grabbed the wooden chest that he'd charmed to stay in one corner, grumbling under his breath.

“You think Diggory's the one who knows you best? You think that he's the only one that could have gotten you the bloody necklace?”

A velvet box was brandished from somewhere deep in the chest, Fred propping it open to reveal a dazzling silver necklace, reflecting the afternoon sun into your eyes.

“The. I don't understand. But how?”

Fred snapped the box shut, moving to kneel in front of you.

“As I said just now, I know you best.”

He popped open the box again, this time moving to remove the necklace from the velvet, lifting it fully into the sunlight.

“I was listening when you were talking to Diggory, and even though I'd run away that day, I knew exactly what you wanted.”

He shuffled behind you, unclasping the necklace to bring it around your front.

“I said that he's in love with you, which I still think is true, by the way, and that's the reason why he would have possibly gotten it for you, is because I love you, and that's why I got it for you.”

The chain clipped around your neck, the cool metal contrasting your warm skin as Fred leaned down to press a kiss above the clasp, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Freddie, I had no idea.”

You spun around to face your boyfriend, pressing a deep kiss to his lips, hands landing on his neck to pull him impossibly closer to yourself.

“Clearly. I had this whole plan! All foiled by your cluelessness. I was going to wait until sunset, with the scenery all around us, then surprise you with it and ask you to be my date to the Yule Ball!”

You looked at Fred, your mouth falling open in shock.

“But you just had to bring up Cedric, and how he 'knows you best'. Maybe you should go with him to the Ball.”

You chuckled at the childishness of the Weasley boy in front of you, the pout framing his lips deepening as you laughed at him.

“Well then maybe you should go with Angie, I'm sure she'd be happy to have you.”

Fred gasped loudly, shocked at the audacity of you bringing up his old crush.

“Don't you even dare suggest that.”

⚔︎.

“How did you think of all this?”

The boy shrugged, opening the chest, to pull out a thermos. You were sat above the Black Lake, watching the setting sun on the horizon ahead, red bleeding into orange and blue.

“Honestly, I’m ashamed it took me so long. Remember this summer when you had me ‘round your place and we watched Aladdin with your parents?”

You nodded, fluffing the pillows to make yourself more comfortable, the setting sun casting shadows on the Weasley boy, making him look even more handsome than usual, if that was even possible.

“At that time, I’d already thought that the magic carpet seemed awfully similar to a broom. Then, that day at lunch some firstie was humming that one song they sang when flying the blasted thing, and I thought, blimey! Why didn’t I think to just recreate the bloody thing! So, here we are.”

While talking, Fred spread the thick blanket to cover more of you, pouring hot chocolate out of the thermos he’d brought into mugs that he’d gotten without you knowing, both shaped in little hearts.

“D’you, um, d’you like it?”

Handing the pink mug to you, a sheen of red descended on your boyfriend’s cheeks, not just from the cold, but also fear and embarrassment, scared you didn’t like the date he’d spent the last three days planning.

“I love it!”

You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on Fred’s lips, leaving traces of cocoa on them.

“But I didn’t love the part where you made me think I was plunging sixty feet to my death!”

The boy groaned playfully, lying back onto the carpet with his head hanging over the edge.

“I know! I’m sorry! I just thought it’d be exciting! A nice surprise! Besides, did you really think I’d let my lovely little Y/N die? I need you around darling.”

You scoffed, sipping on the hot cocoa as you stared at the Astronomy Tower in the distance, your first and now, final destination of the day, a hand creeping towards Fred’s to hold it in a tight grip, unconsciously afraid he’d fall.

“I don’t know! Maybe this was your ultimate prank! Bring us both to heaven to fight God or something.”

Now it was Fred’s turn to scoff, sitting back up to shove his hands under the blanket, squeezing your hand in return.

“First off, if I ever fought God I’d need George there with me. I don’t think that just the two of us could take him. Secondly,”

Fred cupped your chin with his free hand, bringing you in for a deep kiss, catching you by surprise as you braced yourself on his shoulder with your free hand. His tongue teased your lower lip, making a moan slip out while his tongue entered your mouth. Exploring each other, your entangled hands fell apart- his coming to grasp your neck, bringing you closer to him, yours gripping his hip, drawing circles on the bone.

After what seemed like an hour, but also felt like seconds, the two of you fell apart, breathless as you panted, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t think either of us are making it to heaven darling. Think we’re condemned to hell forever, you and I.”

You looked into his coffee coloured eyes, pupils dilated as he scanned your face, his favourite pastime, memorising every crevice and pore. Your hand found its way to the necklace sitting around your neck, fingering the knot that symbolised eternity in your hands.

“Well if I’m going to burn in hell for an eternity, then I’m glad I’ll be burning with you Freddie.”

#mine #writing #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #harry potter fluff #fred weasley oneshot #gender neutral reader #fred weasley x gender neutral reader #hp angst #hp imagine #hp oneshot #hp smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley angst

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joonapeach · 4 years

Text

you, me & a little bit of the future [mlb]

summary: Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien. She just doesn’t expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

alternatively… two idiots obliviously in love cooing over their daughter while acting like they have no idea whose kid this is.

author’s note: i spent my birthday writing mlb fanfiction because that is my biggest source of serotonin. also, if you follow me for bts and have no idea wtf mlb is - first of all, sorry. second of all - give me your brain bc i really wish i could rewatch this dumb show for the first time.

also reposted on ao3

[11.2k words of a fluff/humor and time travel x accidental baby acquisition trope]

If Marinette was still breathing by the end of today… she decided that she would give her life to worshipping Alya.

The girl was a magician, maybe even an angel. There was no possible reason for Marinette to be standing here in an empty museum, waiting for Adrien to fetch a bottle of water for her and yet… here she was?

“Alya, first of all, how did you make this happen?” Marinette squeaked on the phone, looking around to make sure she was out of Adrien’s earshot. “And second of all - I don’t know if I can do this!”

Alya’s familiar laugh came through the call. “Relax, girl! Adrien wanted Nino to go inspect his new wax statue with him but of course, Nino just needed a nudge from your greatest friend in the world to give up his invitation to you.”

Scratch worshipping just Alya. If Marinette hadn’t combusted by the end of this museum outing, she would worship both Nino and Alya together.

“I love you.”

“Try to tell that to Adrien today.”

“I will,” Marinette nodded with so much excitement that it was a wonder her head didn’t spin off. “I promise. I’ll make the most of the opportunity you’ve given to me. You’re the best, Alya!”

Alya only laughed, clearly amused by her friend’s joy. “Well, good luck and tell me how it goes!” she said before cutting the call.

Marinette sighed dreamily. Alone in a museum of art with Adrien, the greatest work of art she’d ever seen… it all felt like a dream.

She paused, quickly pinching herself. The pain registered a second later and she laughed giddily. This was no dream. It really was happening.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Adrien walking towards her. A bottle of water was clutched in one hand as he waved with another. Was it possible to melt from someone’s smile? Marinette hadn’t thought it likely till she traced the curve of Adrien’s lips with her eyes just now.

“Here you go, Marinette,” he said cheerfully. He reached for her hand, putting the bottle on her palm. It was a relief that the water felt like ice to her skin because Adrien’s bare second of a touch made her scared of combusting.

“Th-thanks!”

“No problem! Thanks for coming today. I know it’s such a short notice since Nino cancelled in the morning, but I really wanted to see the wax statue with a friend,” he said softly. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Glad it’s you? How could anyone say such things to a person with that heartstopping grin and then be so oblivious to the world falling in love with them?

Marinette did her best to yelp out a semblance of a response, giving a toothy smile in the silences of the words she couldn’t find. It seemed to satisfy Adrien enough who only laughed and said, “come on!” as he dragged her through the empty museum.

Adrien’s hand. Touching mine.

It really would be a miracle if she was still breathing by the end of today.

Things were going perfectly. Well, as perfectly as things could ever go in Marinette’s life.

In a total of ten minutes, their arms had brushed 13 times and he’d laughed 5 times at something she’d said. He’d given her his show-stopping, sincere smile 3 times and she’d come near to death from them 2.5 times - the 0.5 she subtracted was when she wasn’t looking and only caught sight of his grin at the very last second.

Despite the empty silence of the museum, Marinette was surprised at just how two people alone could fill the room. Of course, it helped that one of the two people was the equivalent to the worth of a country itself but still… something about the familiarity in Adrien surprised her. He’d left her speechless and lovesick but there was also a feeling in comfort in being with him.

There was only ever one other person she felt like that around.

“Hey Marinette, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick!” Adrien said, with another friendly smile she chose not to look at it too closely. When she nodded, he ran off and she stood in the empty room.

Finally, her heart could take a break from racing.

She exhaled, looking around until a sudden flash of light almost blinded her. She jumped back, ready to say the words spots on at the sight of danger till she frowned at what she heard.

“Do you ever not make this more difficult than it needs to be, kitty?!”

Marinette stilled. She recognized that voice. Yet, it was still not as familiar as the one she heard next.

“You know I can’t paws an opportunity to be entangled with you, my lady.”

The other voice scoffed. “That was terrible, even for you. Now, get off me.”

There was a certain threshold of weirdness Marinette had learned to tolerate in her time as Ladybug. Evil butterflies around the city, mini talking God-pets, monsters popping up during her Physics class… that was all fine.

Hearing her own voice repeated back to her was not. This was treading on a new kind of weird.

Marinette hesitantly stepped forward, following the voices. Behind a big column, she could hear the two bickering people. She checked on Tikki in her purse, who was fast asleep. She couldn’t wake her up for a threat she still hadn’t confirmed.

“Now… she’s bound to be here somewhere,” the voice like hers said. “Chat, can you go bring Emma through another portal?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith you have in a fifteen year old girl to say yes without even asking.”

Marinette heard the amusement in her doppelganger’s voice. “I think I’d know my fifteen year old self better than you.”

Another flash of light came and suddenly, the conversation stopped. Marinette’s heart was back to racing, this time from apprehension as she looked behind the column.

She was certain. This was not in the threshold of weirdness she could learn to tolerate.

An older, fitter Ladybug was staring her in the face. Her raven hair was bunched in longer buns around her neck and she towered over Marinette in height. Everything about her exuded confidence and the presence of… a real superhero.

The only telltale sign Marinette could find of her being a person was the awkward, gaping smile she gave.

“Um… hi,” Ladybug said, giving a stiff wave.

Marinette blinked. Then she screamed.

Ladybug raced forward, clamping her hand over Marinette’s mouth. “Oh my God, was I always so easily frightened?” she mumbled to herself in distress. “Marinette, it’s me. I mean- it’s you. It’s you-me. Hi.”

Hesitantly, the hand over Marinette’s mouth slipped away. “What do you mean you-me?” she narrowed her eyes, an urgent distrust in her voice. “Who are you?”

Ladybug’s voice softened. “I’m you. From the future, ten years from now. I’m twenty six year old Marinette,” she grinned, fluffing her two buns. “Pretty cute, right?”

Marinette’s guard didn’t lower. She backed away slowly. “I don’t believe it. You must be an akumatized person… or a trick from Hawkmoth! What do you want with me?”

Ladybug stretched her limbs. “I can’t even blame you for being on edge. I know how tense things were when I was your age,” she mumbled.

“Hello? Who are you?” Marinette repeated. She put her hands on her hips, trying to make herself look more intimidating. “If you’re really me then you should-”

“How’s the Adrien-in-white poster project going?” Ladybug sighed, asking with a resigned shrug. “Right about now, the new spring shoots must’ve come out, right? That shot of him in the white polo by the trees is the prettiest. The green background makes his eyes pop and makes him look like an angel des-”

“Descended from heaven,” Marinette blinked, breathlessly. “Oh my God.”

“Still don’t believe me? Around last month, you broke your phone and asked for three months’ allowance to get it repaired instead of just buying a new one because you told everyone you had some design files that you forgot to back-up, when it was really just saved photos of Adrien from-”

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Marinette cut her off, red creeping up her neck and turning her face into a bright tomato.

Despite her embarrassment, Ladybug only smiled wistfully. She ruffled Marinette’s hair. “Sorry to crash your date, little me,” she said with a grin. “But I have a huge favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

Ladybug nodded. “Yup. Straight from the future. Your twenty six year old self kinda depends on you right now.”

Marinette squared her shoulders. “What is it?” she asked determinedly. “Is Hawkmoth still causing trouble? What do I need to do?”

Ladybug laughed, suddenly looking sheepish. “Um… it’s a little less complicated than that,” she admitted. “You see… you- I mean, me… we kind of are in the midst of a little fight against a villain in the future. It’s crazy. We’ve been fighting for two days and he still won’t let go.”

“Do you need my help?” Marinette asked with confidence. A fight in the future… she could do that. Paris was her priority in any case.

Ladybug giggled. “Well, yes. But not in fighting. You see, in between all the battles, I keep having to go home and detransform because of a little thing. A very cute, little thing. Everyone is so caught up in the chaos of the city that I’m having trouble being Ladybug and Marinette at the same time. That’s where I thought little me could come in handy?”

Marinette raised her eyebrows.

“Little Mari,” Ladybug said with an adoring smile. “How would you feel about babysitting?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. Her head turned left and right, scanning the empty museum before looking back at Ladybug. “Do I have to babysit Manon again on the only day I get to be with Adrien?”

Ladybug laughed. “Well, it’s not Manon this time. This kid’s a little younger. She’s almost one and she’s an angel. I think you’ll quite like her,” she grinned mischievously. “You see, it’s my daughter.”

Her daughter?

No words came to her mind except the phrase repeating. Her daughter.

Marinette was staring at a twenty six year old version of her, far more confident and chic than her and now, this woman had a daughter. Marinette would have a daughter in ten years.

A wide smile broke out on her face. At sixteen, she only ever knew the kind of love she could see around her, for her parents, her friends, Adrien, for her partner… but now, one day, there’d be more to that. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“My… daughter?”

“Yup. Congrats future-mom. We’re quite a good mother if I do say so myself,” Ladybug smirked. “Though I’m pretty sure our husband is half the reason why we’re so good.”

Now, a blush spread across Marinette’s cheeks. A husband. Marinette couldn’t even imagine having a boyfriend, not with how tongue-tied she got around every boy she liked but somewhere in the future was a man she loved who loved her back. A man who was raising a child with her.

At her shell-shocked expression, Ladybug laughed affectionately. “I didn’t even tell you a thing about our daughter or husband but you look like you’re already on cloud nine. You really aren’t ready for the future yet. Good thing you have ten years to prepare.”

“Who… who is my husband?”

Now, a twinkle of amusement flashed in Ladybug’s eyes. “No cheating. All I’ll tell you is… he’s a lovely man. You love him very much. A bit embarrassingly much.” There was a hidden joke somewhere in Ladybug’s words but Marinette didn’t laugh, still too shaken by the prospect of being married with kids of her own.

“What’s… can I ask my daughter’s name?”

“I’m surprised you need to ask.”

Marinette couldn’t fight a smile. “Emma,” she laughed. “Well, I’m happy our future husband wasn’t against our suggestion.”

“Oh, he can’t refuse a single thing we say. You’ll see,” Ladybug smiled. “Well, hopefully at some point. If we manage to end the fight and keep Emma from crying all in a day’s work… so can I trust myself to take care of her?”

Marinette nodded excitedly. “Of course.”

“Thank you little Mari,” Ladybug sighed in relief. “You won’t believe how badly I needed this help.”

Was it possible to be starstruck by your own future self? Marinette felt she was hanging off every word Ladybug was saying, drawn in by the assurance and ease she spoke with. She wondered if this was how the rest of the world felt now when she spoke as Ladybug.

“Anything for you!” Marinette blinked with glittering eyes. “You must… you must be doing so well. Ten years and you’re… wow. That’s me.”

Ladybug giggled. “You’re doing well too, you know. For one, I’m glad you haven’t combusted on your date with Adrien yet.”

Marinette flushed, before blinking in shock. Adrien. “Wait! I have to tell Adrien I’ll have to cancel! So I can take Emma home while you-”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do that. You can keep her around with him,” an entertained look passed in Ladybug’s eyes. “I think it’ll be good practice.”

“Practice for what?”

Ladybug cocked an innocent brow, suddenly distracted by her surroundings. Marinette was about to repeat the question till the familiar flash of light from earlier came again. Chat Noir came tumbling out of the portal, a baby strapped to his chest.

Marinette blinked. If she was looking at twenty six year old Ladybug then… this was twenty six year old Chat Noir.

She swallowed. The years had been- would be kind to her kitty… if she could still even call him that in the future.

She was far too used to the flirty school boy under the name of Chat Noir but this was someone else entirely. For the first time in her life, Marinette found herself at a loss for words in his presence.

Chat’s eyes flickered from Ladybug, a glance filled with lasting adoration, to Marinette. A sudden amusement crossed his expression that Marinette had trouble deciphering. Somewhere between glee and satisfaction.

He inched closer, offering a hand to shake. “Well hello there,” he grinned before looking at Ladybug and saying, “you know, I almost forgot how adorable you were.”

Marinette squeaked. “You know who I am?”

“In the future, he does,” Ladybug reassured, poking Chat’s nose in an all-too-familiar way. “Don’t fret. He’s just playing.”

Chat looked almost offended by the statement. “I am not. I mean it sincerely. You were the cutest thing at sixteen.”

Ladybug cocked a teasing brow. “Is that really a thing to say about just a friend-”

Chat pressed a finger to Ladybug’s lips, throwing a smirk Marinette’s way. “You can’t be handing out spoilers like that for your mini-self. Look how innocent she is. We can’t deprive mini Chat Noir of the satisfaction when it all comes out in the open.”

Ladybug scoffed. “This is why I didn’t want you to accompany me. You’re just getting a kick out of seeing me like this, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me? It’s hard to keep a straight face when I now know what’s really going on in the sixteen year old pretty princess’ brain,” he said with a wink.

Marinette’s heart faltered at the display of adoration and comfort between the two future selves of her and her partner. She and Chat were always close but this… this was new. The doting expression in Chat’s eyes when he looked at Ladybug wasn’t new but the reciprocated devotion in her own future self’s eyes was.

He was still in love with her, ten years later - that was easy to tell. But she wondered how to interpret the feeling that made her feel like suddenly, she was too.

Ladybug reached for Chat’s chest, unwrapping a small sleeping baby from the blankets. Ladybug pressed a loving kiss on the baby’s forehead before looking at Marinette. The two shared a silent smile.

Gently, the baby was placed in Marinette’s arms. Her heart paced at the weight of a life cradling against her chest.

A sudden anxiousness pooled her thoughts. “Can I… do you really think it’s the best idea to give your kid to me?”

Chat was the one to answer. “It’s your kid too, Marinette.”

Her name, her real name, off his lips made her shiver. There was a future in which he called her by that. It sounded so pleasant to her ears that she almost wished that that future could be now.

“But… you know what I mean! Not sixteen year old, clumsy me! It’s your kid. The me who’s put together and… you know, can actually handle walking with a child and not tripping over air and-”

Chat’s laugh broke her rant. “The fact that you think you’re any less clumsy ten years in the future is adorable. I don’t think you’ll ever recover from that.”

“Chat! I’m right here!” Ladybug poked the tall, towering kitten away before turning to Marinette. “You’ll be fine. I promise. You can trust your future self’s judgment, can’t you?”

Marinette swallowed, glancing down at the girl in her arms. For the first time, she looked carefully at the daughter she would one day hold for the rest of her life. She was a beautiful sight. Her cherub cheeks stuck out in her sleep and strands of dark, midnight hair just like Marinette’s covered her face. She wondered whether her eyes were blue too, just like hers.

Marinette smiled. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Ladybug grinned, giving a squeeze to Marinette’s shoulder. “I owe you. Well, technically I don’t because future-you has a lot of good in store that current-you would never believe. But thanks,” she laughed. With ease, her hand slipped into Chat Noir’s as she walked away with a wave.

Marinette’s eyes zeroed in on the sight. At the last second, Chat Noir glanced back at her and a strange feeling leapt through her heart. He smiled. “Don’t worry Marinette. You’re a natural mother.”

The two disappeared in another flash too quick for Marinette to notice. She blinked, thinking of the words Chat had left her with and the intertwined hands… what ever was in store for her future with Chat? Surely… surely, what she was suspecting couldn’t be-

In her arms, the baby moved. Marinette stilled, glancing at her daughter as she woke from her nap. Her arms stretched and she showed a warm smile as soon as she looked up at Marinette. Emma.

“Maman,” Emma said happily. Marinette had never thought she’d find a word she loved the sound of more than Adrien. Now she had.

When she stared at her daughter, she memorized every small feature. This time, she got to see her eyes, wide and awake. While Emma had Marinette’s dark hair, her eyes were a deep shade of green.

Adrien had never considered himself a narcissist. But looking at the broad, tall body of his future self was making him reconsider his stance.

“Plagg. Are you seeing this? I’m so cool,” Adrien grinned excitedly, staring at the Chat Noir in front of him. “This is the best day ever.”

Chat grumbled, hiding his face with a few fingers. Even his fingers were big enough to cover his face. Adrien blinked at what ten years was going to do to him. Despite his title of a model, he hated to indulge in complimenting himself but at this second… he could only say that there was no way Ladybug could reject his twenty six year old self. Adrien grinned with the thought. He could wait ten years to woo his lady if this was the payoff.

“Can you listen, kid?” Chat sighed. “I don’t have much time to give you a pep talk before Ladybug starts panicking at why I’m not back yet,” he mumbled to himself.

Adrien could only laugh, still on a high. “You’re me! From the future!”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of diet plan is future-you on?”

“I don’t know, but isn’t it amazing?!” Adrien said with a grin. “Why are you here? Wait… you’re here to give me a message, aren’t you?”

Chat took a few seconds to stare his younger self in the face. Adrien wondered why it looked like he was on the verge of exasperation. “I wish I could give you ten messages. But even then, I don’t know if it’ll help your hopeless case,” Chat said with a snicker.

Adrien’s mouth dropped. “Plagg… is my future-self bullying me right now?”

Plagg shrugged. “I have no objections.”

“Listen,” a hand clamped down Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien squeaked an inhumane sound at the grip of his future self’s hand. “You know that girl you have a crush on?”

“Ladybug,” Adrien nodded with a lovesick smile.

Chat’s lips tightened into a thin line, unamused. “This is gonna be harder than I thought,” he sighed. “Was I really this oblivious?” he mumbled to Plagg, completely ignoring Adrien’s distraught confusion.

Plagg laughed. “Oh, this isn’t being oblivious. This is just denying the truth. You love acting like you have no idea. I hope you’re a bit better in the future, for my mental health’s sake.”

“Plagg, shouldn’t you be siding with the version of me that actually belongs in your time?!” Adrien whined. “What’s this about?”

Plagg and Chat shared a look. Chat fought a small smile before trying again. “Alright buddy. See, in a few minutes, I’m gonna head back to the future - we’re in the middle of an epic fight, you’d love it - and I’ve left my daughter to babysat by you. It won’t be too long… maybe three hours. Actually, make it four. I should take my wife out on a date after and thank her for putting up with me despite how stupid I was at sixteen. Can you manage four hours?”

Adrien gulped. In just one sentence alone, words like ‘wife’, ‘daughter’ and ‘future’ had left his mind in shock. He wasn’t sure which part to start with, when so much information had been thrown his way in a moment’s breath.

“I’m married?!”

Chat grinned proudly. “Happily.”

Adrien’s eyes brightened. “Am I married to Ladybug?”

Chat’s smile grew with delight. “Even better,” he sighed dreamily. “You’re married to the girl you have a crush on.”

“That’s Ladybug!” Adrien spluttered excitedly.

Chat sighed, part in amusement and part in resignation. “Even if I spelled it out for you, there really is no hope,” he mumbled. “But anyway. Just make sure Emma stays safe, okay? We’ll be back soon so there shouldn’t be any trouble. Not with Marinette taking care of her anyway.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Marinette? You’re giving her to Marinette?” he coughed out the question. “But she’s my daughter!”

Chat bit the inside of his cheek to fight a smile. “Well, that’s all the message I wanna give. Marinette’s going to be outside with a beautiful little girl and you just have to babysit for a short while. Whatever Marinette says, listen to her, okay? She knows best.”

Chat turned but Adrien quickly grabbed at the man’s hand. Was that rock he was gripping or really a human’s body under a suit?

“What?”

“Well… that can’t be all. There’s so much I have to know!” Adrien blinked innocently. “Like… does Ladybug end up being my first girlfriend? How long do I wait to propose to her, because honestly, I think I’d propose as soon as I’m eighteen, and am I a good dad? Do I quit modelling? And what the hell do I eat to become as buff as you?”

Chat hid the growing smile on his face. He gave a finger salute to Plagg before turning to open a portal. With one leg through the flashing light, Adrien yelled out in haste, “aren’t you gonna give your younger self any advice?!”

Chat laughed, looking back for only one last second. “How about you just try to figure out who’s the girl you have a crush on first, buddy?”

Maybe Marinette was a natural mother. It would explain why she was already ready to give her life for a girl she’d only known for minutes now.

At sixteen, Marinette was always sure she wanted kids but that dream always used to be a small piece of her bigger dream with Adrien. Her dream of kids and a hamster and a house in the South of France for them to retire together. Now with a glimpse into the future, her own plans didn’t look like they needed to be so small anymore.

Her future self hadn’t mentioned Adrien at all, apart from just casual teasing. What did that mean?

“What do you think, Emma?” Marinette cooed at the girl in her arms. “She didn’t seem to care much about Adrien but she was looking at Chat like he was her whole world… does that mean my future self isn’t in love with Adrien anymore?”

“Maman,” Emma said in response with a smile. Marinette’s heart softened.

She chewed on her lip in thought. She was holding a child she would eventually have with a man she’d call her husband… and unlike her sixteen year old self’s aspirations, her twenty six year old self hadn’t mentioned anything of Adrien being that man.

Was Marinette missing something? Was Adrien really not the boy for her?

But… her heart belonged to him, she was sure of it. There was no wedding, no kids, no house she could picture that didn’t have him in some way.

Marinette remembered how Ladybug’s touch lingered on Chat’s body, almost too fondly and affectionately to be considered the same as the relationship present-day Ladybug and Chat had. Like an ice-cold realization being dumped over her, Marinette froze.

“Oh my God Emma,” she said breathlessly. “I end up with Chat Noir.”

Emma giggled, mumbling something that Marinette chose to interpret as affirmation. Unable to stay stoic from Emma’s adorable smile, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“Oh my God,” she repeated. “That sneaky kitty… he must’ve done something. Did you see how future Maman was looking at him, Emma? She was saying his teasing was annoying but then she was touching him every chance she got… am I going to be like that? Me and… my Chat Noir? Is he going to be my…”

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Fate truly had a twisted turn if she eventually gave into Chat’s wooing and was just as lovesick for him as he was for her. The thought made her giggle but her heart fluttered.

“He’s gonna have a field day with this one, little Emma. If he finds out I met our married versions, he might die of excitement before we get there,” Marinette laughed, brushing Emma’s hair from her face. “I wonder what it is about Chat that makes me finally fall in love.”

Marinette cradled the baby girl close to her, letting herself indulge in the guilty thoughts of love she would usually shut off for her loyalty to Adrien. “You know what the crazy part is, Emma? Little Maman doesn’t even have a problem with any of this. It would’ve been nice if it was Adrien but… I think I get it now. Adrien’s a crush but to really be with someone, I would want it to be my other half.”

Marinette sighed. Were her feelings so fickle? Suddenly, her heart was warm with the thought of a friend she never once considered before. It felt less like two years of feelings for Adrien had dissipated but two years of feelings for Chat Noir had come to the surface after seeing her daughter.

“What do you think, Emma? Is Chat a good papa?” Marinette giggled, joking with her daughter who only nuzzled into Marinette’s chest. She held her tighter, only turning around when she heard her name called.

“Marinette!”

The smile on Adrien’s face was so blinding that Marinette almost had to step back. The boy was definitely not this happy when he’d ran off to the bathroom.

Their eyes met and Marinette flushed from the sheer joy in his smile. He looked down, his gaze landing upon Emma.

“Oh! Adrien- um- this is… well, it’s a bit tough to explain. You see, I kind of just got asked by my… my aunt! My aunt came and dropped off my daughter- her daughter. My niece! She’s a bit busy so I just have to keep an eye out for her for a few hours and… you don’t mind, do you?”

Marinette watched Adrien’s eyes carefully for a flicker of annoyance at the sudden responsibility. She could only find warmth.

Surely, a boy couldn’t be this happy from having to babysit someone else’s kid?

He inched closer, giving a soft smile to Emma. For a second, Marinette forgot how to breathe. The sight of her first love and her first daughter meeting made her forget words.

“What’s her name?”

“Emma,” Marinette answered softly. Emma reached out for Adrien almost instantly, ready to be carried by him even at first glance. The familiarity she held for Adrien almost worried her when she remembered that there was a strong chance that Adrien and her remained friends in the future… Emma was likely recognizing her Uncle Adrien from another time.

“Can I hold her?” he asked hesitantly and Marinette nodded with a smile.

Adrien cradled the girl to his chest with a gentleness Marinette didn’t expect. It was hard enough seeing Adrien so out of reach every single day of her life but seeing him hold her daughter almost like… like she was his…

Marinette gulped painfully.

The future was beautiful and kind, but there wouldn’t be this. There wouldn’t be a beautiful, young man who got to be Marinette’s first love yet also hold the title of her daughter’s father. Still, she smiled. She had ten years to come to terms with it.

“Hello Emma,” Adrien laughed, a soft finger touching her cheeks. “You probably don’t know me yet but… I’m going to do everything I can to take care of you for as long as I can,” he grinned, almost too fatherly for Marinette’s comfort.

“Papa,” Emma said with a giggle.

Marinette’s heart squeezed. She didn’t blame little Emma for her confusion - Adrien did share the same hair and eyes as Chat that it might’ve thrown off the little girl. But she didn’t correct her daughter. She had a lifetime of parenting to do with her partner, so she’d let herself have today to pretend that it could’ve been her first love.

As she walked away in the museum, Adrien trailed behind with Emma in his arms. He said something to the little girl that Marinette didn’t quite catch fully. It sounded an awful lot like, “yes, Emma. It’s your papa,” but Marinette laughed. Her wishful thinking deluded her too much for her own good sometimes.

At sixteen, Adrien knew he was nowhere ready to be a father. He could hardly understand what it meant to be a good son, to be enough to earn the affections of his own father, to be able to start thinking about how to be a good father.

And yet… was it supposed to be this easy?

Adrien was scared his daughter would repulse at the first sight of him but she came willingly into his arms. She rested with ease, her eyes widened at everything around her - eyes he noticed looked an awful lot like his mother’s - and she laughed at the lame jokes he whispered in her ear, despite not understanding a word.

The apprehension Adrien felt in his chest was gone. This was slowly becoming the best day he’d had in a while.

Just as Emma kept calling him Papa, she called out for Marinette as Maman. At first, Marinette’s face paled when she saw Adrien hear it.

“Oh… uh, my niece, she… well, I look a lot like my aunt, haha! So, you know… she gets us mixed up. That’s probably why she calls you Papa too. You look an awful lot like her father. He’s got the… the same blond hair. And eyes. Even the smile at times,” Marinette blinked, her words trailing off.

Adrien only smiled. His eyes flickered between his daughter and Marinette. Her hair was exactly like Ladybug’s, smooth and dark like the night but it was also just like Marinette’s. He could tell what spurred his daughter’s confusion.

Yet, he still wondered… Why was Marinette the one who his future self had entrusted Emma to? Was it a decision that future Ladybug - his wife! - and his future self made together? Adrien chewed on his lip, unable to answer the question.

What had Chat Noir said before bolting for the future? Marinette knows best?

Adrien glanced at Marinette, the softness in her eyes when she looked at Emma and thought Adrien wasn’t looking. With the gentleness with which she cared for Emma in just a few moments, Adrien couldn’t deny that he had no problem trusting his daughter to her either. Marinette was always kind and there wasn’t a person in the world he thought higher of.

Except for Ladybug. But it really couldn’t get better than that.

“So what should we do now?” Adrien asked. “We checked out my wax statue so that’s done.”

“Well… I guess I should take Emma home. My aunt will be back after a few hours and I’m sure you have things to do so-”

When Marinette came to take Emma from Adrien’s arms, he backed away protectively. She blinked, frowning at his behavior.

“Adrien?”

“Uh… Sorry. I’m a little attached to her,” he forced a laugh. Glancing back at his daughter, he smiled. Chat Noir had said that she’d be his for four hours so why would Adrien have to give her up now?

His lips tightened. As trustworthy as Marinette was, was it fair to give babysitting privileges to her rather than Emma’s father? Did future Ladybug trust an old friend more than she trusted her own young husband?

At that second, Emma burst into sudden tears. Adrien blinked, taken aback by the shrieking sound but before he could do anything, Marinette swooped in and took Emma in her arms. She wrapped her arms around the girl softly, moving her as gently as the wind and whispering quiet words in her ears.

How was Marinette so… natural at this?

He could see just why Marinette was the right choice to babysit, with her soft heart and tender touch and yet… the thought still stung. Ladybug was his wife in the future but she thought more of a friend than she did of him, despite all his love?

How was the future Chat Noir so content with this? Adrien frowned, revisiting every word Chat had said in their short conversation to scrutinize it. His future self hadn’t had any problem with Marinette either - he’d told Adrien to willingly let Marinette handle it all.

When he spoke of his wife, he wore a smile that made Adrien think the future was perfect but surely, this was not the perfect he settled for. His future self had said he was happily married but in what world did a father have less right to his child than a friend of his wife’s?

A bitter taste crawled up Adrien’s mouth. He looked at his daughter to find some peace but when he did, all he could see was Marinette grinning and spinning the girl around. Emma now smiled, looking at Marinette with so much love in her eyes that Adrien wasn’t sure what to think next.

His wife… Chat had never said it was Ladybug. Perhaps Ladybug had dropped off his daughter in the past but Chat had never said it was his daughter with Ladybug. All he’d said was that he was happily married, to a girl even better than Ladybug, and to follow Marinette.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette brushed Emma against her cheek and laughed with a sound worth the brightness of a thousand suns. There was no girl on Earth who held that much love in her heart for a stranger’s baby. Not even Marinette, for all her goodness, could conjure up so much affection for a child she didn’t know.

A stirring feeling shook Adrien’s heart. Pretty Marinette, kind Marinette, Marinette with the shyness of a school-girl but the heart of an everyday superhero, Marinette with the passion of a youthful girl but the love of a woman who’d lived a long life… Marinette, the girl he’d buried his feelings for, for the fear he’d never be good enough to earn her affections back.

That Marinette… She was his future wife.

The smile that spread on Adrien’s face made him look like a fool, but he knew now that he was the same lovesick fool as the future Chat. This right here, in the comfort of the space between Marinette and him, and the daughter they’d one day have, was his family. He would find a family in this girl.

He had already found a family in her. Future Chat knew well enough, telling him to open his eyes and figure out the girl he had a crush on. Of course, Ladybug was his first love, built on admiration and respect, but Marinette was his future. She was the girl he’d become worthy of and the girl who’d give him a home after all his searching.

He blinked back the stinging feeling of tears. When he walked closer to Marinette and Emma, he smiled and rested his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Hey Marinette,” he whispered gently, so not to distract her from their daughter. “Is it okay if I babysit Emma with you today?”

“Hm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows. Adrien fought the urge to brush down her forehead to smooth the crease. She smiled with a welcoming glance. “Of course you can Adrien.”

He grinned. “I guess we can go get ice cream. What do you think about that, little Emma?”

The girl only clapped, excited to see her two mini-parents together again. When she called Marinette Maman again, Adrien couldn’t hide his smile.

Whatever it was Adrien was doing to both her heart, and Emma’s, Marinette wished he would stop.

It was hard enough in the simple moments of Adrien carrying Emma and Emma calling him Papa, but now Adrien was doing even more to seemingly fit in the gaps of her life that belonged to Chat Noir.

For one, his smiles were becoming far too frequent and brightening for her. She started the day off at the museum by counting every time he laughed and grinned at her but now, it was an endless supply that she lost track of.

Not to mention… the hand holding.

Was Marinette truly counting the times their hands had brushed this morning? Because now, Adrien left no steps unturned to hold her hand in the streets of Paris. The three of them went around the city, stopping at little monuments and pretty spring sceneries, all together. It was too much like a family for Marinette to handle.

This was her future family and Adrien was creeping in. He was taking selfies of the three of them at every turn, spending money at random stalls for jewelry and snacks for Emma and he was even… blushing around Marinette?

“Here,” Adrien coughed, looking up at the distracting view of an empty sky. His hand was holding out a small box. “It’s for you.”

Marinette frowned, taking the box. Adrien was no stranger to giving gifts but Marinette was a stranger to the blushing, nervous delivery with which he handed her this gift. Inside was a small necklace with a flower charm on it.

“I just got it from the stall so it’s nothing spectacular, I know,” he laughed awkwardly. “But just to remember today. And I promise, I’ll get you a lot more great things in the future.”

“Oh Adrien, it’s lovely. You didn’t have to get me anything at all,” she blinked. For the sake of her racing heart, she chose to ignore the promise he attached at the end.

Adrien only gave a smile. When the three of them sat down at the bench near Andre’s ice cream stall, Marinette could only cry for relief from the relaxation.

“Wow. Carrying a baby across the city is more of a workout than I thought it’d be,” Marinette sighed. “Kids are a lot of work.”

Adrien nodded, taking Emma from Marinette’s arms. “Well, you don’t need to worry Marinette,” he smiled. “I think you’re a natural mother.”

Marinette’s breath hitched in her throat. The weight of Adrien’s words hung in the air and if she inhaled, she knew she would feel the effect of them crashing against her lungs.

Was today supposed to feel like a goodbye? Was it the reason that Emma appeared today, of all days? To guide her to Chat Noir… and to give her words from Adrien that she would carry forever?

Adrien thought she was a natural mother. It meant one thing to hear it from the man you’d marry but another thing to hear it from your first love. Marinette couldn’t help her heart from singing, from the thought that Adrien saw her so highly.

“Marinette?”

“Huh?” Marinette blinked.

Adrien laughed, brushing his hair from his face. “Oh, I was just saying… aren’t you glad there’s a long time till we have kids?” he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Absolutely. I’m going to spend a good long while enjoying being sixteen,” Marinette smiled, biting the inside of her cheek. “But then… I think I’m also excited. To work towards getting married.”

Adrien blinked, suddenly flustered. “Do you… do you already have someone in mind?”

Marinette laughed. She was glad Chat could never hear the words she was about to confess to Adrien. Although maybe one day, when the two of them were married and in-between battles, she might confess that she realized she was in love with him on the first date with the guy she’d rejected him all this time for.

“Yup,” Marinette said with a smile, thinking of the kitty’s wide eyes and dramatic flair for romance. “I’m going to marry my best friend.”

Adrien coughed and Marinette noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “Wow… that’s… that’s really sweet, Marinette,” he said, fighting a smile off his lips.

“I know. We’ve gone through so much together that I think that the rest of our lives together will be a fun ride,” Marinette laughed. Before Adrien could reply, Emma suddenly began wailing, mumbling for an ice cream.

“Oh, I’ll take her,” Adrien said with a charming smile. “You should rest after carrying her all day.”

“No, Adrien, it’s fine-”

“We’re babysitting together. Let me handle it,” he said, pushing her gently down. Marinette didn’t protest any further, watching Adrien carry Emma down the bridge to Andre’s.

She was sure he’d make a great father one day. While it was a shame it couldn’t be to her kids, Marinette still smiled at the thought that somewhere in the future, Adrien would be there with her.

Adrien pinched his nose.

How the hell did future Chat battle villains with a daughter? Did he leave her alone with Marinette and run off? Did Marinette know about her husband’s crime-fighting identity? Adrien had a million thoughts running through his mind as he stared up at the blob of a monster, terrorizing the city.

He was certain there wasn’t much that could be done. If he were a little smarter, like his future self, he’d pass off the responsibility of his daughter to someone he could trust. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option today.

Adrien searched the racing crowds desperately for Marinette, looking for any sign of her. For the first time, fear struck him cold at the thought of her safety. She wasn’t far from where the monster had appeared from… would she be okay?

Adrien shook the thought. She was strong. He was sure she’d be fine, wherever she was but… if only she were in sight. He hadn’t quite crossed the bridge with his wife-to-be about his secret identity but now he desperately needed Emma’s mother to handle her while he transformed.

“Papa,” Emma said, blinking.

“I know, Emma. I don’t know where Maman is… do you think Marinette would eat me alive if she saw Chat Noir fighting an akuma while holding her baby daughter?”

“Adrien, you’re worrying about the wrong Marinette. Do you really want to be on the end of future-you’s punch if anything happened to his daughter?” Plagg piped up.

“Hey! She’s my daughter too.”

“She’s his daughter. You’ve been too oblivious and stupid to deserve such a cute kid,” Plagg grumbled, flying around Emma with a kind of affection that Adrien had never seen from his kwami before. “Wow, she really looks like you.”

“And Marinette. She looks like Marinette too.”

“A little less oblivious now, are we?”

“Plagg, please. Back to the problem. What do we do?”

Plagg sighed. “Well… what else is there to do? Ladybug’s already out there fighting the akuma, Marinette’s nowhere in sight and you’ve got a daughter you can’t leave in the middle of a Paris alley. I’ll let your suit wrap her around your chest… just don’t bring me in the wrath of future Ladybug and future Chat Noir when they ask why Emma is covered in akuma goo.”

Adrien buried his hands in his hair. There was no wonder his future self was far more blindly trusting of Marinette. Marinette would be taking care of their daughter, far from akumas and danger and Adrien… Adrien was here, taking her into battle with them.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to hurt Marinette. I love Emma but…” Adrien cast a glance to the akumatized victim. “I can’t let my lady down. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“For the record, I had nothing to say or do with this decision, I am a mere bystander-”

“Plagg, claws out!”

Trust Chat Noir to make the day Marinette was ready to give her heart to him as Ladybug the only day he arrived at an akuma fight ten minutes late.

“Took you long enough!” Marinette yelled as she bounced back on the ground from the akumatized victim’s shot of what seemed like jelly goo. “The akuma’s in his stick by the way!”

Chat nervously laughed, giving a hand to Marinette on the ground. “Um… my lady, I know we always fight as a duo but would you be opposed to an adorable sidekick today?”

“What are you talking ab- OH MY GOD! Chat, what the hell is she doing with you?!”

“Well, you see, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything-”

“Why is she with you?!” Marinette bellowed, trying to take her poor daughter from the strapped blankets around Chat’s chest. The grip of the straps was far too tight though. Marinette could almost cry. When she’d said she wanted to see her Chat look more like the Chat from the future, she’d meant his height or big build… not in the way they both appeared with her daughter strapped to their chest in danger.

“Look, my lady, listen, I couldn’t leave her in the streets! She has a better chance of being protected like this than if I’d leave her on a bench somewhere!”

“Why couldn’t you leave her with Adrien?!”

“Papa?”

“Not now, Emma!”

Chat blinked. “How do you know her name?” he said slowly. “And how do you know she was with Adrien? Oh my God, did future Chat Noir pay a visit to you too?!”

Marinette buried her face into her palms. Was he really the partner she was supposed to raise Emma with? She was glad that there were years to go before the two of them would reach that burden because right now, she was almost guiltily wishing fate had been kinder to her and put her in Adrien’s path instead.

“Chat, now is not the time! Please! We need to break the akuma and figure out how to keep Emma safe. Please just… just be safe with her, okay?”

Chat nodded, blinking. “Of course I will. She is my daughter after all,” he said with a smile down at Emma. His black-leather clad gloves gently caressed the girl’s cheek, careful of his sharp claws.

Marinette stilled. So wrapped up in the chaos, she forgot she was witnessing the sight of her daughter with the man she’d one day call her husband.

In her mind, Chat Noir had always been a little bit of a child himself, chasing after love and thrill like a lost boy. There were countless times she doubted his sincerity in his fluttering feelings for her.

And yet… Now, when she looked at him, none of that doubt was there. All she saw was a boy with radiating love in his eyes, a gentle heart, one that had been begging for her to be careful with him all this time because his affection was never insincere. It was just that he had so much to give.

Marinette blinked back the pooling tears in her eyes. He looked at Emma with so much love and when his eyes came to her, his gaze only softened.

“Are you crying?” he asked, puzzled.

Marinette quickly wiped the tears away under her mask. Now was not the time. “You… you’re gonna be a great father one day, kitty,” she settled for saying, running away towards the akuma without a glance back. Though he was out of earshot, Marinette still let herself say to the world, “I’m so glad you’re going to be the one for my kids.”

Adrien was fighting an akuma, with his future daughter wrapped to his chest, and his future wife somewhere out there in Paris. And first love had just told him that he was going to be a great father out of the blue.

Were all of the world’s gifts being given to him today?

“Chat, the light pole! If you cataclysm it, we can trap him!”

Adrien blinked, looking up. “Um… my lady, I would never be opposed to anything you suggest except- I don’t wanna give Emma vertigo by climbing all the way up there!”

Ladybug sighed. “Well, it’s not ideal to bring a daughter along in an akuma fight. For now, I’ll hold onto her while you go!” she said before mumbling, “we better find a way around this when the time comes. I might kill you if you bring Emma along into a fight in the future.”

In a quick swap, Adrien was now watching Ladybug cradle his daughter to her chest. His first love and his future daughter. He hated how his heart fluttered.

Before today, it was her he wanted to be a husband for. He dreamed of holding their children, of living together and growing old by each other’s side… Adrien hoped that the part of him that clung to that fantasy would go away soon.

He feigned a laugh. “Of course I won’t. I’ll leave her at home with my wife.”

Ladybug stilled, and amongst the chaos of Paris behind her, he could see her body freeze. Suddenly, she was glaring at him. “Like hell you will!” she pompously snapped. “You should be the one staying home taking care of her!”

Adrien blinked. “Then who will save Paris?!”

Adrien didn’t know what he was doing that only seemed to flame Ladybug’s temper. “I’m the one who purifies akumas anyway! You should be the one taking care of the kid!”

“I- I don’t understand!” Adrien threw his hands up in the air. The sudden argument between him and Ladybug made him feel like they were having a lover’s spat, but he tried not to dwell on that thought. “Why couldn’t my wife just take care of Emma while I’m out here?”

“Chat, if this is how you plan to be in the future, I swear I will make sure there is no Emma!” Ladybug argued. “I am not staying home to babysit Emma while you get to fight!”

“No one said anything about you having to babysit! You can fight!”

“You said you’ll leave Emma alone at home with your wife!”

“Yes! My wife!”

Ladybug blinked in confusion. “Well, your wife doesn’t want to stay home to babysit!”

Adrien buried his face in his hands. The city would burn to the ground at this rate, while he would still be stuck in a conversation he did not understand. He watched Emma’s eyes go from Ladybug to his as if she were lost on who to listen to.

“I don’t see why Marinette would have any problems taking care of Emma,” Adrien sighed exasperatedly. His body instantly froze after saying the words.

He’d just told the name of his future wife to a partner who had no idea about his identity… Adrien’s throat dried up. Had he just fucked up everything?

He swallowed, risking a glance at Ladybug. She mirrored his expression of shock and he mentally braced himself for the scolding of his life from her.

“You… you- did future Chat go and tell you my name?!” she groaned, shaking with a frightening temper. “I thought that was off limits! Future Ladybug didn’t even tell me anything about you! I had to figure it out all on my own that we were going to get married!”

Adrien stilled. Whatever confusion he was facing before, it only seemed to get worse now.

“M- married?” he sputtered out, suddenly coughing. His head echoed the chaos ensuing in the city around him. The logical part of his brain told him to get back to work, save Paris… every other part of him told him that he was stepping on unchartered territory right now with Ladybug and he shouldn’t dare move.

“This is a mess. Emma, did we mess everything up?” Ladybug mumbled, looking down at his daughter.

“Ladybug… wait, I think- I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Adrien cut in, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck. “I’m… I’m going to marry Marinette.”

Ladybug blinked at him as if waiting for him to say something more. For a moment, only silence passed between the two. They both seemed to be waiting for the other to finish their unfinished words.

It was in this silence that Emma’s voice became the loudest. She looked up at Ladybug, laughing and reaching for her dark hair to grab. “Maman.”

Adrien glanced between his daughter’s familiar gaze at his first love and his first love’s hair that looked an awful lot like his future wife’s. Despite the tense atmosphere, Ladybug still smiled softly at his daughter as she continued to call out for Maman.

Adrien burst out laughing. Maybe he’d be a great father one day. But he sure as hell wouldn’t stop being an idiot.

Chat would make a very strange husband, Marinette decided. One second, he was yelling at her that she would have to stay home to take care of Emma and the next, after a very visible mental breakdown of laughter, he was back on his game.

Once the two of them had gotten past the weird argument, it took only a few minutes for Paris to return to normal and a little butterfly to fly away, harmless and pure. All in a day’s work… with a baby wrapped around her chest.

“Sorry little Emma,” Marinette sighed, rubbing her suit-covered fingers over her daughter’s cheek. “Maman took you into a fight. You must’ve been so scared.”

Emma only giggled.

“Well, you don’t really need to be scared. We’re just kids right now, but I promise once you come, Maman will be an even better superhero. And Papa too… if he ever sorts his head out. We’ll be good parents,” Marinette blushed before adding, “we’ll be a good husband and wife too, don’t you think?”

Marinette couldn't get sick of the bright, green eyes of her daughter. They really were beautiful.

Behind her, she heard Chat Noir’s feet land on the ground. He mumbled pleasant greetings to the Parisians walking by before coming to her.

“So,” he began. A new kind of smile Marinette had never seen before was playing on his lips. “Crime-fighting husband and wife?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. There it was. The smugness she knew she’d have to handle from the second she realized that the man she ended up with was Chat Noir. “This just sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

His glee was painted across his face. He couldn’t stop grinning. “On the contrary, I think it’ll be quite the dream. You, me, our kwamis and our little kids. Aren’t you glad future-you finally decides to fall for me and have that life?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t sound like much is in it for me.”

Chat fought a cocky grin. “Well, you get a piece of twenty-six-year-old Chat Noir and I think you’d quite like him, my lady.”

Marinette had to hide her flushing cheeks by looking down at Emma. “I’m stuck with sixteen-year-old you right now. Let’s start one step at a time, okay?” Marinette mumbled. “We have a long way to go before we become good parents.”

Chat laughed. “Me maybe. But you’re a natural mother, bugaboo. You’ll be great.”

Marinette giggled. What was that her future self had said? That she’d be a good mother, but her husband was half the reason why. She wouldn’t tell Chat that now, but she was starting to think it might be true. He’d done something risky today but he had her back as always.

In unison, both of their Miraculouses beeped, reminding them of their time limits.

“Oh! Gotta go,” Chat glanced at his ring before looking up at Emma. “Will you be able to handle her?”

Marinette smiled. “Papa’s done enough,” she teased, poking him away. “I’ll be fine.”

Chat laughed, pressing a kiss onto Emma’s forehead. “See you when I see you, little bug,” he whispered to the happy baby before looking at Marinette with a mischievous smile. Marinette almost jumped from the sneaky kiss he pressed onto her forehead too.

She still felt his lips on her skin, long after he’d leaped across rooftops away. Cradling Emma carefully against her, she sneaked into an alley quickly to de-transform.

“You did great Marinette! You took down the akuma and took perfect care of Emma,” Tikki smiled. “Chat Noir’s right! You really are a natural mother.”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks, Tikki. Adrien said that too- oh my god! Adrien!”

Tikki hid a knowing smile before going back inside her purse. Marinette instantly took off, running back to the bridge where she’d last seen Adrien leave with Emma. The poor boy… he probably was frightened to death, thinking he lost Emma and Marinette in the crowd.

Standing in the middle of the bridge, Marinette panted. “Oh Emma,” she chewed her lip. “You don’t think he’ll be too panicked, will he? Adrien?”

“Papa?” Emma only asked in response, blinking widely.

Marinette laughed. “Not Papa silly. You just saw Papa. Do you already miss him?”

Emma pouted, nuzzling her face into Marinette’s neck. “Papa.”

Marinette sighed. “Is this how it is in the future? Do you like Papa more than me?” she grumbled playfully. She didn’t think she’d even mind if little Emma gave all her devotion to Chat.

The two laughed together till Marinette heard her name called. As she turned, she hated the way her heart skipped at the sight. Adrien came rushing down the bridge, two ice creams clutched in his hands and a wide smile on his face. It was a scene she thought she’d recall in every dream from now on.

Ten years Marinette… you have ten years to get over that.

“Sorry! I went to get ice cream, then the akuma happened, then Emma-”

“It’s fine, Adrien!” Marinette forced a laugh. “You’ve been a great help today with Emma anyway!”

Adrien’s smile slipped into something softer. She almost wished she didn’t have to see it.

“Papa!”

“Hey Emma,” Adrien laughed, giving the ice creams to Marinette before taking Emma into her own hands. “You weren’t scared, were you?”

Emma shook her head happily. She nuzzled affectionately into his touch, still calling him Papa.

“Sorry about her,” Marinette smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Looks like she likes her Papa more and you remind her of him.”

Adrien nodded, biting back a smile. “Well, that’s okay. I think her Maman already has someone who loves her far too much. It isn’t fair for her to get all of Emma’s love too.”

“Hm?”

Marinette blinked. That smile on Adrien… Why did it look both new and familiar at once? And why was he leaning in with a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if this were something ordinary between the two of them? And why, despite every better part of herself, was Marinette’s heart racing from being the focus of those eyes?

“Wouldn’t you agree, future wife?”

The ice creams dropped. Two cones sat planted in the ground and Marinette squeaked. The smugness she’d seen minutes ago on Chat’s face now appeared on… on Adrien’s. He laughed, sharing the joke with Emma in his playful stare. Her first love, the love of her life, and her future daughter… all in one sight.

“Adrien!”

“Uh oh Emma, your Maman is mad at me,” the boy laughed. Marinette chased him down the bridge but when she caught him, it was Adrien who pressed his lips to her forehead this time.

“You took… our daughter into an akuma fight?!”

“Hey! She’s our daughter too. And don’t tell off Marinette,” Adrien pouted, jumping in front of Marinette from the towering Ladybug who had her hands on her hips. Hips he was having a hard time looking away from.

Adrien couldn’t tell Marinette - he wouldn’t dare - but while ten years would make him as Chat Noir just a bit more handsome, ten years would make her deadly.

He had to gulp a heavy breath when she appeared in Marinette’s bedroom, with her own Chat Noir on her tail. At first glance, he almost tripped from Marinette’s sofa. When he shared a look with his future self, his future self only feigned an innocent smile, fully aware of the inner workings of sixteen-year-old Adrien’s mind and how the stunning woman had short-wired it.

��I am allowed to tell myself off, Adrien,” Ladybug sighed. “Move away.”

“No way. It wasn’t her fault anyway!”

Ladybug shared a look with Chat. “Were you always this stubborn?”

Chat grinned. “Only when it comes to you,” he said with a wink and then with a glance at sixteen-year-old Marinette, “and her too, I guess.”

Adrien frowned. “Hey! Flirt with your own Marinette,” he grumbled, shooting daggers at his future self. For as hard as Adrien had worked to disguise his starstruck reaction to the future Ladybug, Marinette had put no effort into the same for the future Chat Noir. Her eyes were glued to him this whole time. Every time he moved or turned and the muscles strained against the suit, Marinette turned a little bit redder.

Adrien wasn’t sure whether to be jealous or flattered.

“Like I can’t see you ogling me,” Ladybug muttered before looking at Marinette. “Anyway. I’ll take Emma back now. While it wasn’t… ideal for you two to fight with her on hand, I know why you did it. Thank you for taking care of her.”

Marinette beamed. “Thank you for letting me have her today. I… I’m gonna work really hard,” she promised, her eyes bright and glittering. “To become a mother and superhero as good as you.”

Ladybug smiled, but before she could respond, the two boys answered in unison, “You’re already good.”

Marinette blinked, looking between Adrien and Chat. “Wow. This is trippy.”

“Tell me about it,” Ladybug sighed, before glancing at Adrien. “Thanks for taking care of her- well, me, Adrien. There’s gonna be a lot of tough times in the future but there’ll be a lot of good too.”

With a look at Marinette, the words came out of Adrien before he could stop them. “I think they’ll all be good.”

Chat sighed, picking up Emma. “I would make fun of you. But I’m exactly the same. Guess we’re even,” he grinned, offering a fist. When Adrien reciprocated, his fingers stung from the sheer force of a simple fist bump.

“Seriously man, what are you eating?”

“Nothing healthy. My wife’s family owns a bakery after all,” Chat said with a wink at Marinette. He turned to open a portal and Adrien squinted from the flash of light.

“Thanks for babysitting kiddos!” Ladybug smiled with a wave. Adrien could hardly wave back before the two of them were gone and the room was left with him and Marinette and their two sleeping kwamis.

And a hundred or so posters of Adrien.

“I really thought you’d be more into me,” Adrien mumbled in the empty room. “But you couldn’t stop gawking at Chat Noir!”

Marinette scoffed. “You weren’t slick about your staring at Ladybug either.”

Adrien rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was just… looking at how your suit would change. Very interesting, you know.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You have less spots in the future. It’s fascinating, right?”

“I guess. Your tail was longer too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Adrien bit back a smile. “Well thank you for admitting you were checking out my future ass, Marinette.”

Instantly, he dodged the pillow thrown his way by her that he’d anticipated. Her face was flushed and he couldn’t get enough of how adorable it was. He’d have to soak it all up before she became all cool and confident like she was in the future.

With all the laughing and pillows being thrown around, Adrien didn’t hesitate in grabbing Marinette’s waist and pulling her closer to him. The two were wrapped together now on the couch and while the proximity was familiar, the racing heartbeat he felt at being so close to her was new.

“You really have Emma’s eyes,” she muttered, staring at him.

“You have Emma’s hair.”

“You have Emma’s nose,” she answered with a playful flick of it.

Adrien smiled, letting his eyes wander down her face. “You have her…” he trailed off, bashful of even saying the word.

Someday, he’d have a kid with this girl. But for now, he couldn’t even bring himself to get past the initial awkward shyness of two sixteen-year-olds around their first loves.

“What do you think?” Marinette asked hesitantly. “Of our… Our future together?”

Adrien grinned. “I love it.”

“Do you really think I’ll be a good mother one day?” she asked, suddenly leaning in closer. Adrien was sure she could hear the hitch in his heartbeat, pressed against him like this.

His partner, his best friend, his first love, the love of his life… how did he get so lucky? All in a day, he’d found all these people with just a little bit of the future.

Adrien brought his lips to Marinette’s cheek and pressed a kiss at the corner of her lips. “I think you’ll make a great mother,” he kissed the other corner. He leaned back for a second to share a smile before pulling her close enough that no distance remained. “But I think you’ll make an even better wife.”

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breitzbachbea · 3 years

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📓?? 👀

Okay, okay, okay, so -

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

The Ancient Olympics AU (which I talked about with @crispyliza )

This AU came into being after I relistened to the "The Ancient Olympics" episode of the history/comedy podcast "You're Dead To Me". It had the interesting information that a lot of Olympic winners actually came from Sicily & South Italy! So naturally I began to wonder what might have happened if my Sicilians ended up in Olympia ...

Dramatis Personae:

- Michele Vento (APH Sicily, my OC) as Trainer of the Bontade Twins - Marco & Lorenzo Bontade (Human OCs of mine) as Athletes from Syracuse - Herakles Karpuzi (APH Greece) as Athlete from Athens - Timothea Simonides (Human OC) as Herakles' Trainer - Omar Simonides (Human OC) as ... Good question? Co-Trainer to Thea ig

The Happenings™:

- Lorenzo and Marco want to compete in the upcoming Olympics as runners. Michele,probably a distant relative to them who lives close, becomes their trainer.

- The Sicilians roll up to Olympia, most likely a few days early because travelling is an adventure in these days and it doesn't hurt to have a few extra days to get accustomed to the terrain.

- Michele also definitely loses the Bontade twins 10 minutes after arriving at the sanctuary bc he wasn't looking for 0.5 seconds. So now he lost his boys at a place that currently contains approximately half of Magna Graecia.

- The reason he wasn't paying attention? Some athletes were preparing themselves nearby, bucknaked of course. Amongst them Herakles. Michele has always been a sucker for strong arms and legs, so that plus Herakles' beautiful face has him swooning from the get go.

- After he recollects his twins, they spend the next few days training, as do the other athletes, which is when Herakles notices Michele's looks.

- Christina (crispyliza) had the galaxy brain idea that Herakles intentionally flirts with Michele to sabotage the Bontades success at the games. It's an idea that he comes up with together with the Simonides - to be completely fair, it was probably Timothea's. Omar: "My, looks like you've got a fanboy." Herakles: "And what a pretty one at that." Timothea: "He seems to be a bit shy about it, though. Or maybe he's actually after those twin brothers?" (They figure out he's the Bontades trainer) Timothea: "Oh, he's a trainer! Pretty sucky at his job though if he's oogling the competition so much." Omar: "All the better for us, though." Timothea: -oil lamp ignites over her head bc light bulbs aren't invented yet-

- While we're at the Simonides: This was before it was mandatory for everyone to be naked, so Timothea managed to sneak into the games by posing as a man. Omar helps her with it, since he's trans and thusly got experience. Christina also had the hilarious idea of them having fake beards, which is just, YES. Timothea definitely cut her hair and they made whatever beard is in fashion in Athens at the time out of them. Their mother Natasa used to be a famed winner of the Heraea, the woman's games also held in Olympia.

- So let the games GreSic flirting begin

- The Problem: Michele doesn't want his boys to think he's betraying them for a rival athlete. He also really wants Herakles to rail him. The Solution: Find ways to be sneaky and secretive about it so the twins don't have to find out. Here is one of the possible scenarios I had for this: "When I first thought about this, I also had this scene in my head. Idk how accurate it works, bc it involves a tent and in the ydtm episode they didn't mention how people were housed during the games. (Like, I am sure there were guest houses, the temples probably offered some places to sleep, both of that but in upscale fancy for all the rich and important people attending yadda yadda.) Do you know that trope(?) when someone has sex but is trying to hide it? That. Just Michele sticking his head out of the tent, clutching at the fabric to keep everything else closed. Tells his twins, who looked for him, he is kind of busy rn. Tries is best to hide the fact of what is actually happening and to make them leave. It works. Kind of. Because as soon as they are gone, Michele sighs with a :| look and tells Hera to stop. "But why?" "Because you would have to nail every corner of this tent down and then they'd still find a way to spy!" Which is exactly what the twins ARE doing. They are trying their best to get an unnoticed peak from one place of the tent. But because it has to be subtle, all they get to see is feet and they either don't hear them or don't recognize Herakles' voice. I don't think he is the person to go out of his way to pick on people or pick fights in general, so they probably haven't had much interaction. So Michele smoothes out his chiton annoyed and leaves the tent, to then just stomp around enough for the twins to notice him and pretend they weren't doing what he knew they were doing."

- One day however, Marco & Lorenzo are missing their trainer and can't find him. They run into Thea & Omar, who are missing their athlete. Hm. Weird. Wonder what's that all about :)

- They end up catching Michele and Herakles in the act, just out there somewhere underneath a tree, which, naturally, makes the Bontades VERY upset. Lorenzo: "What do you think you are doing?!" Omar, in his head: 'Herakles, obviously.' Marco: "He's the COMPETITION, Michele!" Both: "You've left us all alone for THAT?!" Since the Simonides were in on the whole thing, they're not surprised just disappointed that Herakles vanished without a heads up. "Well, that ain't sprinting practice."

- The most hilarious thing is that could not even tell you who wins the race. I didn't even think about that part until yesterday. I'm kind of particular to the thought that it's somewhat of a photo finish with the three of them, but the twins come out on top. Since there can only be one winner, they flippantly let one of them be chosen by the equivalent of a coin toss. So technically, either Marco or Lorenzo has won, but they keep both parading around with the wreath and insist that the inscription to them mentions them both as winners. Now, if they got their way is another story, I didn't read any academic articles on this at. all.

- Second place is as good as last in the Ancient Greek world, but Herakles takes the loss in stride. Timothea is probably the one who's most upset. Marco: "Hah, so all your flexing - " Lorenzo: "and all your fucking for nothing in the end!" Michele: "Hey, I'd like to think I'm a reward in and of myself, not an obstacle."

Sequel Bait:

- Back home in Siracusa, Michele gets asked if he doesn't want to train his cousins, too. The ones from Neapolis. The ones Michele can't stand. However, his mother talks him into it and he agrees. Extra funny because Lovino & Feliciano were also talked into it by THEIR parents. So Michele spends the next four years butting heads with Lovino, knowing fully well their mother will rip his head off if they don't do well. Lovino is of course hiding his giant insecurities about disappointing his loving father & mother behind snark. Michele will arrive at Olympia with four athletes in two this time and looks like he aged 40, not 4 years from all the stress.

- Herakles is no competition this time, though! He wants to try his hand at wrestling this year. However, very quickly after his arrival, he butts heads with a fellow wrestler from one of the Greek colonies in Asia minor. Only thing's more annoying than his big mouth, which he shares with his wrestling buddy, are probably the flirtations coming out of it & Herakles can't wait to show him his place. (Yes, I do know that the Turkish people came into the area that is modern day Turkey far, far later, he should be of another ethnicity [and he gotta be Greek to participate, anyways] but. Is any of you really going to deny me Herakles and Sadık wrestling, bucknaked, covered in oil? I'd hope the fuck not.)

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

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Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 1)

Full list of translations here

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A team with only ten runners had passed the qualifiers and was now in the Hakone Ekiden.

This spectacular achievement accomplished by the residents of Chikusei-sou was widely talked about, not just by the university athletics world.

Since the Hakone Ekiden began being televised in 1987, there was hardly anyone who didn’t know the name of this event for student runners in the Kanto region. Whether it was due to the grueling nature of the race or the glamour and glitz that aired on New Year’s Day, the Hakone Ekiden never failed to attract attention.

Only ten people were taking on that famous competition. Why would they think of doing such a reckless thing? What would happen if someone got injured or sick on the day of the event? What kind of daily training regimen did they follow, and how did they live?

Curious locals and students who wished to join the team began to visit Chikusei-sou incessantly. Most of the students had no experience in track and field, but when they found out that the team had passed the qualifiers, many of them asked to join the team in a temporary rush of excitement.

Kiyose carefully wrote on a piece of paper that he would turn down all visits and stuck it on the door of Chikusei-sou. He appreciated them wanting to join, but the Kansei University boom would soon die down, they couldn’t enter without an official record, and Chikusei-sou was already full. After much deliberation, Kiyose decided that it would be better for the ten of them to concentrate on training and unite to compete in Hakone rather than take in any new members.

With regards to the locals, the shopkeepers of the shopping district told them to not get in the way of training and most of the locals were now content to just peek at Chikusei-sou from over the hedges. The exceptions were the old people who quietly supplied produce from their fields.

As Kakeru was leaving for his morning jog, he noticed napa cabbages and pears placed outside the door. Is this some kind of repayment? He thought. Nira, who had watched the old people’s actions without barking, only wagged his tail at him. In the end, without knowing who did it, the residents of Chikusei-sou filled their stomachs with the produce that was often left at their door.

Of course, requests for interviews flooded in from the media. Not just track and field magazines, but also weekly magazines, newspapers, and TV; every kind of media outlet they could think of had been trying to contact them. Kiyose and Shindou investigated them all carefully and refused almost all requests with “We want to concentrate on our training.”

However, they agreed to an interview with Monthly Track and Field’s Sanuki and Yomiuri Shimbun’s Nunoda, who had been supporting them since the summer training camp. The two understood the psychology of runners well, so they watched them train without interfering and briefly asked them the most pertinent questions. Favorable articles about the people of Chikusei-sou were then published in the respective mediums.

The twins and King were over the moon and insisted on accepting more interviews.

“We’re actually going to Hakone, you know? It’s better to be noticed,” Jouta said.

“It might even help with getting a job,” King said.

“Instead of thinking about that, you need to get more serious about training. Otherwise, your pathetic running will be televised all over the country, and you’ll get attention whether you like it or not.”

Even when Kiyose flatly rejected them, the twins and King didn’t give up.

“No? We wanna be on TV. TV, TV!” they yelled. Kakeru was astonished as he watched the offense and defense unfolding at the dinner table.

Just the thought of competing in the Hakone Ekiden was enough to make Kakeru nervous and elated. But on top of that, the twins wanted the “extraordinary” experience of being interviewed on TV. Were they too simple-minded, were they greedy, or were they just fearless?

Until that spring, the twins had lived without having any connection to long-distance running, so they might not have had a clear idea of the significance of the Hakone Ekiden.

The Hakone Ekiden, which began in 1920, took place every year with the exception of a few years during the war. Even amidst the food shortage after the war, the runners put on their sashes and aimed for the mountains of Hakone—that's how important it was as an event for runners, with more than eighty years of tradition.

The Hakone Ekiden was what student runners yearned and dreamed of; the twins might not have fully understood the meaning and value of participating in such an event. But even though they didn’t understand, they trained and had the ability to claim their place to take part in it, so they were no ordinary people. Kakeru was impressed and amused by this.

Between them, the twins continued their appeal with Kiyose, who was silently moving his chopsticks.

“Hey, hey, let’s go on TV at least once.”

“We can have that perk, at least. After all, Haiji-san, you’re…”

“What about me?” Kiyose's chopsticks stopped moving. Jouta and Jouji suddenly closed their mouths and squirmed like they wanted to say something, but finally shook their heads.

“Nothing.”

In the end, Kiyose gave in and they ended up accepting a TV interview: on the evening news, in a five-minute topic segment, the lives of the residents of Chikusei-sou were going to be introduced.

TV cameras came and filmed Prince’s room full of manga and Nico-chan’s room full of small quit-smoking dolls that were scattered around his futon that he never put away. They also filmed their training in the field and interviewed the members.

The twins and King took the lead in the interview. We don’t know if things just followed their course or if it was because we were threatened by Haiji-san, but we found ourselves aiming for Hakone. We eat lemons soaked in honey every day to avoid catching colds. We don’t do any special training. We believe we have the same kind of regimen as the track clubs in other universities.

Kakeru, as usual, stood meekly in the corner, just far enough away that he was partially cut off by the cameras.

“Why are you hiding, Kakeru?” Yuki asked.

But Kakeru only smiled vaguely and dodged the question with, “No, I'm not really.” Nico-chan, who was watching over the interview, looked back at him.

“You’re not gonna tell us that you’re a wanted fugitive, are you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

That’d be cool, though, Nico-chan said and gave him a suspicious look.

“Putting that aside, there’s been a strange mood lately, don’t you think?” Yuki said. Nico-chan nodded, I guess so.

Kakeru had also noticed it; it had become somewhat strained within Chikusei-sou. The first-floor residents were the same as before, and most of the people living on the second floor were practicing with the same attitude as usual. The twins, however, seemed to be clearly depressed. To be frank, it was regarding Kiyose.

They didn’t argue with him or act defiant towards him. However, they tried to keep a subtle distance. Although Kiyose treated Jouta and Jouji as he always had, they couldn’t seem to be open with him for some reason. For some reason, their trust in Kiyose seemed to have faded.

This awkwardness spread through Chikusei-sou, and a somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere had persisted ever since the qualifiers ended.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Nico-chan said. “Kakeru, you’re in the same year as them—ask them casually.”

“What do I ask?”

“About what’s in their heart, of course.”

“Aah…yes.”

Although he answered with that, Kakeru honestly felt that it was a heavy burden.

Training was becoming more and more voluminous and dense. They slowly ran the first 5000 meters of the 12,000 meter run in 17 minutes, then increased the pace and ran the last 1000 meters at a pace of 3 minutes and 0.5 seconds. After that, they did five 1000 meter runs of 2 minutes and 55 seconds with a 200-meter interval in between.

Kakeru did his best to think about his own running. Was the swinging of his arms, the angle of his feet when he landed on the ground, the relaxing and tensing of his muscles okay like this? His consciousness stretched around every inch of his cells and he checked his running with every step.

Of course, he had to attend his university classes in between training sessions, but it was hard to have to pay attention to other people as well.

One time, he happened to be in the Tsuru no yu public baths with the twins. When the twins went to the washing area, Kakeru and Kiyose soaked in the bathtub with their backs to the painting of Mount Fuji, and conversed with the plasterer who happened to be there.

“How’s it going, Haiji? How are the Chikusei-sou guys?” the plasterer asked. He was sitting in the hot water with his back to the washing area, so he didn’t notice the twins. The twins, who would usually call out to them, saw Kiyose by the bathtub’s faucet and only slightly bowed without a word.

“They’re doing good,” Kiyose answered the plasterer.

“The first-years did pretty good.” The plasterer pulled his hands out of the water and rubbed his face. “Kakeru did great too, but look at those identical twins—they’re pretty fast too, aren’t they?”

Kakeru fretted over how Kiyose would answer. Behind the plasterer, Jouta and Jouji were straining their ears to listen. Perhaps because he was distracted by the conversation, Jouji lost control of his hands and spilled a large amount of shampoo on his head.

“They really are,” Kiyose smiled. “I can’t say it in front of the people themselves, but they run well.”

“Really?” Jouta stood up from his chair in the washing area, and the plasterer looked behind him with a start.

“What’s the point in lying?” Kiyose rose from the bathtub. “Sir, we’re raising promising runners, so please continue to support us from the shopping district. I will be taking my leave now.”

He walked past the twins’ backs, opened the sliding door of the baths and disappeared into the changing room.

“He only praised us ‘cause we were here,” Jouji muttered to no one in particular. But he couldn’t hide the fact that he was happy. He shampooed his head so vigorously that it was covered in dense bubbles in the blink of an eye.

“What’s with you guys? You didn’t even say hello.”

After the plasterer compared Kiyose’s and the twins’ words and actions, he turned to Kakeru, who was still in the bath. “Are they fighting by any chance?”

He was asked that in a whisper. “Well,” Kakeru sank up to his shoulders in the water. “I don’t think that’s the case.”

The twins might have been dissatisfied with Kiyose in some way, however they couldn’t hide it within themselves forever. If anything, he would say that it was because they had openhearted and naïve personalities; he was sure that they would let their emotions erupt at the earliest opportunity and directly vent them to Kiyose. It wasn’t too late to try and solve the problem.

Kakeru decided to leave the twins alone. He shouldn’t intentionally nudge a dormant volcano; when an eruption occurred, they would naturally discover where the crater is. After carefully assessing the location and wind direction, they could take shelter and wait for the overflowing lava to cool. That was what he thought.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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destiniesfic · 4 years

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132 Hours, Chapter 5:

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

Note: There is a content warning this chapter for a brief mention of past attempted sexual assault. The mention comes near the end of the chapter.

Read chapter 5 on AO3, or read below:

Despite the damp cool of the basement, I am warm when I finally blink my eyes open to the dim morning light. Cardan has curled up at my back.

Alpha blood tends to run hot, they say. It plays into the general myth that we are opposites in every way: alphas hot, omegas cold; alphas strong, omegas weak; alphas dominant, omegas submissive, and so on. Scientifically the hot-cold theory has a little backing, though we’re talking an average temperature difference of 0.2 to 0.5 degrees max. But with Cardan so close to me, practically radiating heat, I am almost inclined to believe it.

We’re not touching too much. He has sort of nestled his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and if I hadn’t slept in my sweatshirt I could probably feel his eyelashes tickle my skin. His hand found the curve of my waist in the night. But that’s it. The rest of him is a few inches away, like even in sleep he finds it difficult to overcome his revulsion to me.

It’s almost comfortable, if I forget who I am and who he is. Not even what I am and what he is, because Madoc’s position means that if any handsome, eligible alpha bachelors deigned to outright marry an omega, as he had once married our mother, Taryn and I would be the best of the bunch—best-connected, best-educated, best-groomed. No, it’s that he is Cardan and I am Jude, and I have hated him ever since my body put itself at war with my brain, and he has hated me too, just because I was afforded some small amount of privilege without being born into it.

And still, I stay there for a minute, soaking up his warmth. Because I didn’t think I’d have this anytime soon. I didn’t think I’d get to wake up next to a boy cuddling me, not after what happened with Valerian and definitely not after what happened with Locke. And even though these are the worst circumstances, and this is the worst boy, there’s something perversely nice about it.

Or maybe I just like things that are bad for me.

I was thinking of seeing if girls were better when I got to college, but they don’t really explain how alpha-omega girl sex works in school and I am not about to ask Vivi. And now I don’t know if I’ll even make it to college, so maybe it’s not so bad if I steal a moment of peace.

But then the stink of mildew cuts through Cardan’s rich sweet-musky-boy scent and I am forcibly reminded of where we are and why, especially now of all times, I can’t afford to be soft. So I jam my elbow back into his side, and if I do it with maybe a little less force than I normally would, well, it’s not like he knows that.

Cardan awakens with a start. “Ow!” he says, rolling over onto his back and pressing a hand to his side. “What the hell!”

“You’re fine.” I sit up, take down my now grody ponytail, run my fingers through it and begin to put it up again, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “Today’s the day.”

Cardan scowls at me, rubbing his side.

“Do or die day,” I clarify, looping my elastic around another time. “In case you forgot.”

“I remember,” he huffs. “That mattress is terrible.”

“Well, maybe tonight you’ll get to sleep in your own bed. Or maybe we’ll be dead. Or we’ll be locked in this room again and you can sleep on the floor.”

“Such tempting options. However will I choose?”

I roll my shoulders, trying to work the kinks out of my muscles. “My guess is we’re going to be held up with the police for questioning for a long time. You might not have to. Maybe the choice will be made for you.”

“As always, Duarte, I do so admire your rosy outlook.” Cardan finger-combs his hair and sits up all the way, blinking at me. “I’m still worried about the third guy.”

I don’t tell him that I’d been thinking the same thing. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say quietly. “We have two other bridges to cross first.”

Only a minute or so after I say it, there’s that knock on the door. I glance at Cardan, who needs to play the role of alpha today, and wait for him to speak, even though it sucks to defer to him. He takes his time about it, too, stretching his long legs, running his fingers through his hair once more, like he has all the time in the world, like the person on the other end of the door should be so lucky as to strangle him.

Just as I’m about to strangle him, he calls, “Yes?”

The door opens. The scarred man and his gun are there, along with, absurdly, a little paper Starbucks bag in his other hand. An upgrade. He looks at me and Cardan—we’re now both sitting on the mattress, even though we are a few feet apart—but if he has any comments he keeps them to himself. He shakes the bag like he’s trying to call in a wayward dog. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks,” I say, because it is my place to be deferential.

“No coffee?” Cardan asks.

I whip my head around to glare at him. The man grunts, “Didn’t know how you took it.” Disconcertingly, I can’t tell if he has a sense of humor or if he’s serious.

Airily, Cardan says, “Fine. Put it down wherever.”

The scarred man raises both his eyebrows, but he half-sets, half-drops the bag on the floor and backtracks through the door, closing it and leaving us alone. Cardan goes over to retrieve it and peers inside. “Okay, looks like sausage, egg, and cheddar and… turkey bacon?”

I hold out my hand. “Give me the turkey bacon.”

“Oh, thank god,” Cardan says, and this time he doesn’t take a bite out of it before he hands it to me.

“Not a fan of turkey bacon?”

He scowls. “It’s all healthy. Plus, it’s not like turkeys actually have a belly to cut bacon from. You have to grind it up and make it yourself.”

I snort, but am happy for his judgment if it means my breakfast escapes unscathed. It doesn’t surprise me that Cardan couldn’t care less about eating healthily. From what I know, he has a mostly liquid diet, and the liquid is mainly alcohol. Not that it matters much. He probably won’t be able to keep getting away with it after a few more years, but right now his body takes pretty much everything he consumes and uses it to build him more muscle.

I think of how hard I have to strength train for a fraction of what Cardan gains just by existing, and how some of the training shows, especially in my arms and back, but the rest is buried under a cozy layer of body fat, and I kind of want to strangle him again. Just one of the many downsides of being an omega.

Since I don’t have any fun facts about turkey bacon to contribute, we eat breakfast without speaking. We had agreed that it was important to get our strength up for whatever lies ahead, but I find it hard to chew and swallow, even though the sandwich is lukewarm. I end up offering the last half to Cardan, who takes it despite his complaints.

Then, once enough time has passed, he gives me a look, and I nod and stand, shaking my legs out. Instead of staying in my usual corner, I stand next to the door, tense, waiting. With one last glance at me, Cardan strides over and knocks.

We have a system with our captors now. They know that the knocking means we want out for one reason or another. They either call through the door to find out why or just open it right away. This time, the door simply opens. Cardan stays where he is and does not move to the back of the room.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s that time again.”

It’s the woman’s voice I hear, and I am privately thankful. “Okay, back up.”

“But I was hoping I could go first.”

“Back up.”

Cardan takes one step back. It’s now that she realizes that I’m not in my corner. Just a little further, I think. And she gives me the half-step I need.

“What’d you do with your friend?” she asks.

To answer that question, I grab her by her shirt and drag her into the cell.

Surprise is a legitimate advantage, but a fleeting one. Since she’s armed and I’m not, I need to move fast. I don’t have to think much about it. I jam my knee into her stomach; all of the air leaves her lungs in a startled gasp, and her grip loosens on the gun. I pry it from her hand with one of mine and use the other, still fisted into her shirt, to pull her further into the room—and let go.

It only takes a few seconds. I dart out. Cardan has already gone ahead, as I told him to, and I pull the door to behind me, quickly twisting the lock on the knob. That was phase one.

“Um, Jude,” says Cardan.

I turn, raising my stolen pistol in front of me before I do anything else, finger resting dangerously near the trigger. The scarred man stands on the other side of the table, his gun also raised. But instead of aiming it at Cardan, as we thought he would, he is pointing that barrel at me.

“This is a surprise,” he says.

Behind me, the doorknob rattles as the woman realizes I’ve locked her in.

“Let her out,” the man tells us, voice steady and slow.

“Or what?” I ask. Somehow, my voice doesn’t shake. “We’re both armed. Let us go and I won’t shoot you.”

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” he asks.

“What do you think?”

He cocks his head to look me over, evaluate my posture, my steady grip. “Huh,” he says, and then he moves to point his gun at Cardan instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I’ll only ask nicely one more time.”

I snort. “Sure. Do me the favor.”

The scarred man raises an eyebrow. Cardan whispers, “Jude?” like he isn’t sure whether or not I am playing a game. I am not sure either. I am intoxicated by the adrenaline pulsing through me.

“We’re not friends,” I clarify. “Shoot him if you want.”

Cardan gives me a panicked look.

“Of course, if you’ve promised to give him back alive, that’s going to cause some trouble.” My palm is sweaty. I shift my grip on the gun. The knob rattles again at my back, and I hear a soft curse, a hand slamming on the door. “It’s your call.”

The man’s lip curls into a kind of terrible smile. “All right, girl,” he says. “You go free. He stays. Leave the gun on the top step.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Final offer.”

I should go right away. Instead, I glance at Cardan, who has gone pale. But he looks at me again, and then, defying all my understanding of him, he whispers, “Go, Jude.”

So I do. Slowly, my entire body quivering with tension, I walk backwards up the stairs, keeping my pistol trained on the scarred man until the last possible moment. I try the knob at the top, and find it unlocked. It seems too easy, but with one last, stomach-churning glimpse of Cardan’s white face, I flee. But I don’t do everything. I do not give up the gun.

The house I step into has obviously long been abandoned—it was probably never even finished. Some of the walls have gaping holes in the plaster, the support beams visible; some were never plastered at all. There is no furniture to speak of. I don’t linger to take it in. I start running, through a hallway, in the direction of what might be the front door. When I find it, I tumble out into bright morning sunlight, and I keep going.

Immediately I know I am well and truly in the middle of nowhere. All around me is a field of overgrown grass. If there is a road, I cannot see or hear it. Still, I have to assume there was once a driveway that led somewhere, so I take off as fast as I can toward a distant line of trees. I do not wonder about Cardan. I do not wonder about anything.

For a minute it is just me, my feet flattening the dew-damp grass, my lungs straining with every breath. I am alone in a way that I haven’t been in days. Then there is a crack from behind me, and then I feel something rush past my face, just missing me. Startled, I drop the stolen pistol, which lands harmlessly in the grass and thankfully does not fire. I don’t stop running for it. Stopping is the last thing I should do, not when I am so close.

Still, my stomach drops. Without slowing too much, I glance over my shoulder back at the house. The second floor is half-intact, and I can kind of see through the wall—there might be a dark shape perched there. A man. The third man.

He’s a sniper.

I swear under my breath, and my panicked heart skips a beat. They chose this place on purpose. There’s no cover out here, giving them a clear view of whoever might be coming or going. Giving them time to move us in case the cavalry arrived. My only choices are to keep running until I am out of range, or stop, and go back. And I am not doing that.

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

There’s another crack, now unmistakably the sound of a rifle being fired, and this time I feel when it hits—really more of a graze, but it still skims through my flesh about midway up my calf, leaving a tear in its wake. The strange thing is that, at first, being shot doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t feel like much of anything. It shouldn’t be enough to make me miss my step. I falter anyway, and when I bring my foot down I land on it wrong and roll my ankle. I drop with a cry into the grass, tears stinging the corner of my eyes.

But even then I keep going, crawling on my hands and knees through the long summer grass, blinking back my tears because I refuse to let myself cry. I don’t look at my ankle or my wound. It is only when I hear the grass crunching underfoot behind me, and a shadow falls over me, that I finally, finally stop moving forward.

I don’t stop fighting, though. The man—Cardan had described him as tall, and he was right—picks me up with some effort and, without a word, throws me over his shoulder like a sack of garbage. After adjusting me a little so my weight is more evenly distributed, he turns to carry me back to the house. All the time I am squirming, trying to kick, pounding at his back with my fists, screaming with the faint hope that someone might hear me. It isn’t enough to get the sniper to loosen his grip on my waist, but I do feel him wince in pain a couple of times, giving me some small, bitter satisfaction.

All I think is, I shouldn’t have dropped the gun.

Despair begins to set in as we reenter the unfinished house, as the sniper shoulders his way through the door to the basement and carries me down the stairs. Cardan is seated in a chair, rumpled but seemingly unharmed, his hands behind his back. Apparently, someone has bothered to tie him up or handcuff him this time. He sits forward when he sees me carried in. “Jude?”

“Are you sure he’s the alpha?” the sniper asks his companions. “He seems to have gone easy on you.” He deposits me into another chair, and the woman is there immediately to cuff my hands, threading the handcuff chain through the chair back so I am well and truly stuck. I see that some of my blood has soaked into the sniper’s black shirt and think, Good. My leg is starting to hurt now, in throbs, like a bad burn.

“You shot her?” Cardan asks, straining against his bonds.

“I’m fine,” I say, avoiding his gaze. I cannot believe he would do something as stupid as give himself up so I could go free. I look at my wounded calf, streaked red. There is an angry-looking tear there, but it could have been much worse. He didn’t hit bone. “It’s a graze.”

“Because he’s good at his job,” says the scarred man.

The sniper shakes his head and disappears into the room beyond the bathroom. He returns with a first aid kit and begins to stoop down next to me so he can clean my calf, but I raise my foot, threatening to kick him again.

“That’s enough,” the scarred man says. “Believe it or not, we don’t want to hurt you kids.”

“Not,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hurting you wasn’t part of the remit unless you misbehaved,” says the sniper. “Is that more believable?”

I scowl and hold out my leg so that he can clean the wound. Cardan’s eyes narrow. “We can’t just trust you,” he says, as a stinging antiseptic pad is applied to the torn skin and I flinch. “We don’t even know who you are. Give us something. Names. Something to call you.”

The scarred man and the woman look at each other. The woman says, “You can call me the Bomb. This is the Roach. That—” She points to the sniper. “Is the Ghost. You can figure out why for yourself.”

“You call yourself the Roach?” Cardan asks. “Wow. I mean, love yourself a little.”

To my surprise, the man grins. “Not my choice, but we don’t get to choose. How’s her leg?”

“The twisted ankle is going to give her the most trouble,” the Ghost replies. He presses a clean cotton pad to the wound and binds it in gauze. Then he starts on wrapping my ankle. He’s efficient; he’s done this before. “Although I’m guessing we don’t want her mobile anyway.”

“I wouldn’t mind if she taught me a couple of moves,” the Bomb says, rubbing her stomach. I wonder if I bruised her. “What was that, karate?”

“Krav maga,” I admit, glaring at the Ghost as he props my foot up on the nearest empty chair. Ignoring me, he stands and leaves to wash his hands. “I’ve been training since I was nine.”

The Roach lets out a low whistle. “Someone didn’t want you getting jumped.”

I turn my glare on him. “For all the good it did me.”

For reasons I don’t understand, the Roach grins and holds up his hands. “This? This is just a paperwork dispute. Once everything’s signed and sealed, we’ll turn you loose.”

“Lot of hassle for some paperwork,” Cardan remarks. “You could have just let Jude go if it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I’m starting to see it,” the Bomb says to the Ghost. “Although, yeah, I could have sworn the girl was the alpha too for a second there.”

And if that isn’t absurd enough, Cardan leans toward me across the table and asks, “Did they teach you how to slip handcuffs in krav maga school?”

“Do you want to dislocate your thumbs?” the Ghost asks abruptly, reemerging from the bathroom.

I give Cardan a shrug and a nod—that is how to do it—and he shudders.

“Look, we know just about everything there is to know about this guy,” says the Roach, pulling out the last empty chair and sitting across from me. “But now I’m curious about you.”

I blink. “There’s not much to say.”

“He has quite a file on him,” says the Bomb, jerking her head to indicate Cardan, who pulls an innocent face. “But you were nowhere in it. We thought you were a bystander, a fling, or maybe his new girlfriend—”

“His what?” I squawk.

“But you’re way more interesting than that,” the Roach concludes. “Cardan told us this whole little escape plan was yours.”

The Ghost, for his part, leans against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and says nothing. I decide I would like him best except for the part where he shot me.

“Why don’t you just let Cardan tell my life story, then?” I snap, angry at everything and everyone.

“Gladly,” Cardan says, looking a little too gleeful. “Jude Duarte was born with a chip on her shoulder. She’s glaring about ninety percent of the time and never lets her guard down, ever. As far as I know, she’s only gotten drunk once. She and her sister were the first omegas to graduate from our school, and Jude staged a coup by being named valedictorian, too, as if being first at just one thing wasn’t good enough. Our last semester, she gave a kid a black eye and got him expelled.”

“Why?” The Bomb asks. “What did he do?”

Cardan lapses into an embarrassed silence that I don’t really understand. Valerian had been his friend, once. Maybe still is. I say casually, “He tried to do what alphas always do,” like I don’t still feel the awful weight on top of me, the cheekbone cracking under my knuckles. “So I did what I had to.”

“They expel kids for that now?” asks the Roach. “Huh. Good on them.”

“Jude’s dad made a persuasive case,” Cardan says.

They exchange bemused glances. The Ghost asks, “Who’s her dad?”

Cardan and I look at each other across the table. They really don’t know.

“My adoptive father,” I clarify, because it matters. “He’s a lawyer. Uh, his last name’s Madoc?”

“Oh,” says the Roach. “Shit.”

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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junmyeonning · 4 years

Text

Touch me — 1

Type: Series

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (EXO Suho) X Unnamed OFC

Rated: M (no smut yet)

Summary: He's the manager at the library. Smart, polite, and most obviously, incredibly sexy. She doesn't want the opportunity to pass so she teases the hell out of him. Until he breaks...

Previous: part 0.5

Warnings: a bit of an age gap (30 and early 20s)

Word count: 3.8k

Tags: @fightoh @suhotly @ctc95 @suhowifeuu @smolpeyy @lavellanfriendliness @eggsoyehet @ohsehunxv

—

Monday comes around. Her classes were cut short for the day, so she and her friend decide to grab a bite and hang out.

"So how is it so far? I've heard that professor is no joke."

"Oh god don't get me started," she thinks back on all the crap that's been dumped onto her ever since starting the semester. "It's only week two and it's been hell... I don't know how I'm gonna pass this subject."

"Well unfortunately you know how it is. And if I'm being honest, his tests are even harder." Her friend Jenna grimaces.

"Ugh you're kidding me..." she sighs in defeat, regretting how she didn't take up this general subject earlier and got it over with. But now she has no choice.

"-go back over notes after each class or you'll totally be screwed." She listens to the last part after unintentionally blocking out Jenna's voice, her eyes widening at that last statement.

"But I don't wannaa... not my style." She whines, taking a small bite from her sandwich. Jenna raises her brows at her friend's childish manners.

"...'Style'..."

"Fine okay, whatever I guess. Let's talk about something else." She shrugs it off, changing the topic for now. It stays at the back of her mind though, wondering in what ways can she make this situation a bit more tolerable. She has other classes after all, a shit ton of assignments, and it can be depressing to her if she forces herself and she knows it... that's just the way she is. Maybe a change of scenery while studying?

She thinks back on different places she's been recently, places with a calming atmosphere, possibly quiet...

All of a sudden she's reminded of the library and that one encounter with its attractive manager. It has almost slipped her mind, but now looking back at it she feels more eager to revise today's lecture.

She makes up her mind to stop by the place before heading home.

—

She enters it once again, getting butterflies in her stomach when recalling what happened the last time she was here.

Technically nothing really happened... but she saw this insanely cute guy. And he smiled. And waved. That's something right? To her longer than admitted relationship-less life, it is actually considered something.

She doesn't see him at first glance, so she tells herself to stop acting like a teenager. Later, time to study now. She promises herself.

She takes a seat at the same place as her previous visit, settling down and pulling out her book and notes in front of her. She can't stop herself as she raises her head a little to look, and it's not too hard to find him this time while he's standing by the shelves talking to a customer.

Their eyes meet by chance, and he flashes her that gorgeous smile yet again. She notices how extra warm he's looking today, wearing a sweater this time with some shirt under it. And of course, those damn glasses.

She smiles back 'casually', an exact opposite from what she feels on the inside. Why is her heart jumping like this? She blames his cute looks and that attractive gentleman aura of his.

She forcefully peels her eyes away from him, telling herself to seriously calm the fuck down.

Five minutes go by, nothing changes. Then ten minutes. Then fifteen. She's re-reading the same lines yet to no avail, her mind refusing to absorb any kind of information for the time being.

She feels frustrated when she looks up again, this time not finding him anywhere in sight. She looks right and left, wondering where he had disappeared when suddenly someone from behind her speaks.

"Looking for something ?" She almost jumps when she hears his voice. He comes into view and grins at her reaction.

"Huh? No nothing, I'm studying." She laughs it off, pointing at her displayed papers.

"Ah okay then. Good luck!" He gives her a cute little thumbs up in encouragement then turns to leave. She feels disappointed, knowing this could've went on for a little longer, but no unfortunately it's time to focus back again on her school work.

Fifteen more minutes pass by, and she starts to feel irritated with her lack of accomplishment. She's basically wasting her time doing nothing, and the library itself is so boring and empty, so she decides to just leave. She can't stay here when her mind is this occupied, it might've been a not so good idea in the first place.

On her way out she passes by him leaning against the front desk holding his phone. He has a surprised look on his face when he sees her.

"Oh, finished already ?"

"Well to be honest," she hesitates on telling him what's bothering her, but whatever. "I was trying to go over what I've taken today but I'm just so out of focus. I guess i'll go home and look it up or something."

"Hm..." he locks his phone and puts it away, giving her all his attention. "Maybe I can pull you out a book in here that'll help explain better ?" he offers.

"Sure, if you have anything on this." She shows him her book, making him raise his brows in acknowledgment as he takes it in.

"Ohh." He lets out a laugh, clearly amused. She's confused and he sees it, so he explains.

"I remember studying this subject back in college." He chuckles. She makes an 'oh' face in realisation, and that's when it clicks in her mind. Let's give it a shot.

"Ooh, how was it for you?"

"Hmm, I was pretty good at it actually." Perfect.

"What if... you help me out a little then? I don't think more reading will do me anything at this point." She subconsciously gives him a cute puppy face, and it's not hard to convince him to agree to her.

"Sure. As you can clearly tell," he gestures with his hands around him at the deserted library. "It's a very busy day today."

She giggles at his sarcasm. Wow he's a joker too.

"Hey watch over the place a little, I'm just gonna be over there helping her." He instructs his co-worker, then turns around and heads in front of her to where she was sitting earlier. She skips behind him, mentally cheering herself for her successful plan.

He goes over the pages for a little, quickly getting reminded of the topic before starting to point and explain some key points.

His voice is gentle and his tone is so calm, speaking like he knows what he's saying and putting it into words perfectly. One minute into it and she feels like she's in a trance, the only thing she's focusing on is him.

Then her eyes start wandering, looking down at his lips while they're moving and forming words. She doesn't understand what he's saying at this point, just nodding along mindlessly and agreeing with whatever he's talking about. Until he asks her a question on the topic.

"...Huh?"

"What I just explained now."

"Oh yeah yeah! That..." she thinks for a second, having zero idea on what he just said. He notices and closes his eyes in disappointment.

"Was I not clear or..." he wonders genuinely, in which she quickly starts denying with wide eyes.

"No no no! It's actually the opposite, you're so good," she stumbles, not knowing how to say it. "I guess your way of explaining is..."

"Yeah?" He replies in a lower, more careful tone, and she almost melts under his gaze.

"Um," she laughs lightly, almost nervous, but she dares say it. "...distracting maybe?"

She feels time go by so slowly at that second, waiting for his reaction.

"Oh... I'm sorry then," he rubs his neck in embarrassment and looks down at the book. "Then our time was just wasted."

What? She's shocked that this is just what he understood from her. After throwing all these hints and signals towards him, he's apologising?

"Hey, manager Kim you were literally perfect. I'm the one who should apologise here I told you I'm having trouble focusing today," she feels bad for putting him in this situation, she's the one who wasted his time, just because of her silly crush. "I'm sorry."

"No it's okay, don't worry about it." He gives her a reassuring smile, and her heart does that weird jump again. For the love of god stop being so cute. She says in her head.

"Okay, see you later?" She smiles back at him. He nods and they both get up, she starts putting her stuff away.

"Wait, what is your name?"

"Oh, it's Junmyeon." She tells him her own name, then leaves her things for a second to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

"Thank you Junmyeon." He staggers a little in surprise, standing there taken aback with his hands still in the air. He reacts then and pats her back with a laugh.

"No problem, I was entertained actually." She steps back from him and looks up in confusion.

"Huh? What's so entertaining about teaching."

"Uhm," he glances away with a small smile, before chuckling and shaking his head. "It just kind of reminded me of my college days."

She giggles at the way he's acting like a grandpa, when in reality he looks exactly like a cute little bunny with those cheeks of his.

"Stop I bet it's not that far."

"Oh but it is."

"How far?" She asks him and he takes a moment to think back on it.

"Hmm I don't know, nine years maybe?" She couldn't help herself from gasping, making him laugh in response. "Wow I look that young huh."

"So you're like thirty? Is that right?"

"Yep." She's struggling with keeping her thoughts in her head, her mind running a million thoughts per second. Something about this new info of him being in his thirties makes him more appealing to her, she doesn't know why but she feels even more attracted to him now.

"Thirty is still young by the way." She comments on what he said, and he shrugs it off with a 'sure whatever'. They share smiles and laughs during the whole exchange.

She takes her bag and waves him goodbye, heading back home while her stomach is still feeling all jittery.

She can't stop thinking about him even when she's unlocking the door to her apartment, having spent all the ride home recalling their now second encounter. She remembers how sweet he was to agree help her (even if she was a little shit who kept staring at his mouth), and how gentle and mature he sounds when he talks, and the way he has smiled at her multiple times by now. Seriously? Those precious looking smiles directed at her? What is the intention, to melt her heart into a little puddle at his feet?

She bites her lip from smiling too big, feeling like a complete idiot just standing there in front of her wardrobe still in her day clothes.

Her mind is telling her she needs to see more of that cute library manager.

—

Unfortunately for a week or so, that didn't exactly happen.

Of course life got in the way, and for the past few days she couldn't even think of anything else with how busy she's gotten. Now with an important quiz coming up, she's extra nervous about it and studied it to hell and back.

She leaves all her papers and gets up, wanting to get a breather and just get the hell out for a little bit. It's nighttime, she's still in her pyjamas, she doesn't even know where she's going, hut all she's thinking is fuck it as she grabs her phone and keys. It is kind of reckless to just leave like this, but in her head she says maybe she'll just go to her close-by usual café or whatever.

Just as she arrives at that spot, she looks a little down the street at the familiar place she hasn't thought of these days. What has he been up to? Did he think of me at all? She wonders.

She figures seeing him will instantly make her mood better, so she crosses out her initial plan and heads to the library.

She pushes the door open, looking around and seeing it practically empty again at this hour. What if he's not on his shift? She clearly didn't think it through, but she ignores the voice in her head and gives it a try as she struts around casually.

She passes the aisles one by one, until she finally lays eyes on what she was looking for. Or more specifically, who she was looking for. She wants to sigh in relief, he might just be the highlight in her otherwise miserable week.

"Oh, manager Kim!" She walks up to him as he was apparently arranging some books. He looks up when hearing his name, quickly recognising her and smiling in her way.

"Oh hey," he continues his work on the shelf. "Haven't seen you for a while."

Damn you, heart. Calm. Down.

"Yeah you know, college, life," she stands beside him, attempting at any sort of conversation. "What are you doing there ?"

"Stocking some new books, almost done with my shift now," he puts up another one. "Did you come here to talk to me or to actually study ?"

He says it jokingly without even looking, so she decides to muster up and just say some of the truth.

"Umm, both I guess?" He pauses and looks at her now. She smiles innocently at him, biting her lip subtly, which in return makes him glance down at her lips before looking back into her eyes. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks away, putting up the last book in his hand.

"So you want something from here or can we just..." he means to leave but she quickly comes up with a lie.

"Wait, uh I need a book from there actually." She points at a place behind him randomly. He turns around to look, then looks back to her confused.

"Where?"

"Oh right there I think..." he goes along with her and walks over to where she pointed, somewhere farther behind aisles close to a corner.

"What exactly-" he spins back to face her, only to find her directly standing in front of him. He laughs in surprise. "When did you follow me this fast ?"

"I walked up right behind you." She smiles, now very much close to cornering him against the wall of books.

"Are you sure you meant a book..." he laughs it off, looking visibly more nervous now.

"Yeah, what else ?" She casually pulls out a random book from beside him. "Found it."

She opens it and stares a little, pretending to have interest in whatever the hell she just pulled out on a whim. He furrows his brows as he takes the book from her hand, looking at the title and stifling a laugh.

"10th grade physics. Interesting."

"Does it matter ?" She lets out a little laugh, taking it back from his hands and throwing it to the side.

She's getting more serious now as comes closer to him, looking up into his eyes and giving him that look. Her bottled up feelings are coming up and she just can't stop them, her mind clouded and her frustrations from everything in her life right now is making her act out more than usual.

"Junmyeon..." he looks back at her, not saying a word as she comes closer and closer.

Their faces are so near from each other now, her eyes darting down to his lips then back up, her intentions very clear.

"What are you doing..." he whispers just as their lips almost connect, eyes closed by now.

"Isn't it obvious?" She whispers back, and finally goes in for it.

Their lips touch softly, staying still for a few seconds. She begins moving her mouth so slowly, kissing him and testing the waters. Before realising he still hasn't moved a centimetre.

She pulls back a little, looking up at him while his eyes are still closed. She calls his name in a careful tone to see his response, and he opens his eyes and looks down at her.

"...you shouldn't have done that." Her heart sinks a little.

"Why not ?" She gets closer again, their breaths hitting each other's faces as she tilts her head up to the side, waiting for him to make the move this time. Their lips are so close, all he has to do is press his down onto hers like she did earlier

But he doesn't. He's not pulling away, but he doesn't move in for it either.

When she sees he's not initiating anything, she moves back away from his personal space and looks at him with disappointment.

"What is it?"

"You know... it doesn't work." He looks at her with pleading eyes.

"What doesn't work? Give me a reason." She presses. He seemed into her enough to not pull away, and she caught him a few times eyeing her, specifically her lips, it doesn't make sense that he backs off this way.

"I... you're too young." He murmurs, not making any eye contact whatsoever. She crosses her arms.

"I'm twenty one... if that's your reasoning, remember we're both of age here and we're free to make our own choices." He looks conflicted, like he agrees with what she's saying but still holding himself back. She holds both his hands in hers, leaning in close to him once again and tilting her head.

“Come on, do it," she whispers. "Kiss me..."

Time is moving so slow as he leans down his head finally, getting his lips closer to hers. It is clear that he wants her too, and she awaits the moment that their lips touch once again, but he just stops there.

"I-I'm not sure..."

"Okay then hear me out," she stands back away from him, sighing as she gives it a thought. "Let's go on a date. If you're still unsure, we'll leave it at that for good."

The eye contact feels too strong, and he takes a few second to make a decision as he nods slowly.

"Okay ?"

"Yes, okay."

They exchange numbers and go to part ways, but not before her giving him a sweet smile in reassurance as she's leaving. The corners of his mouth lift up slightly as he smiles back at her, growing more and more convinced in his decision of agreeing to go on this date with her.

In his mind, he has never went for women who aren't within his age range, so this is definitely very new for him. He knows nine years isn't really the smallest number, but like she said it won't hurt to give it a chance since they're both adults here.

He is still looking at where she left with a small smile, shaking his head as he can't believe what had just happened. She knows what she wants... and it's damn hot. He admits to himself.

Finally snapping out of it, he attempts to push all thoughts of her out of his mind for the time being. It's way too early to try and guess what's going to happen on their date...

He continues to pack some stuff up and close the place for the night, with her still lingering at the back of his head against his own will. He might just enjoy their time together more than he initially thought, and he can't help but look forward to it.

So being the person that he is, as soon as he enters his home he types her up a text.

'Hey there, did you get home safely?

Just wanted to say that even though I wasn't sure at first- you shouldn't worry about anything now. I actually can't wait to see you again.'

He looks at it and frowns. Too wordy, very unnecessary over-explanations. Why the sudden nerves?

'Hey there, did you get home safely?'

He goes with just that for now, leaving his phone on the bed as he starts changing into something more comfortable for the night. Just when he pulls off his shirt, he hears the familiar new message sound making him leave his closet open and go check her reply.

'Yup.' He reads her simple answer. He starts typing again but she beats him to it, a picture of her suddenly popping up in a message bubble.

She's lying down on her bed in the dim lights of her room, holding up a peace sign while flashing him her pearly whites in a cute smile. He catches himself smiling back instinctively, quickly typing up a reply.

'Good.'

Send.

'Just wanted to check in on you.'

Send.

He locks his phone momentarily and throws it back on the bed, taking off his pants now and deciding to wear just some sweatpants to sleep. His duvet is pretty thick so he didn't bother.

He lies down finally, checking his phone again to see two new messages from none other than her.

'Aw seriously?'

'Well let me check in on you too... where's my cute pic :('

He laughs out loud at that. That little...

He looks down at himself, very topless, and that gets his mind going.

'Sorry, can't do cute pics atm.'

'Can I ask why, mister?'

'...sure you wanna see ?'

Over at her home she's reading his text once more, her heartbeat accelerating when she thinks on the possible meanings behind what he's saying. He's flirting back, holy shit-

'Bring it on, manager Kim.' And send.

She picks at her nails as she waits in anticipation, and that damn 'ding' rings in her ear as she quickly opens his newly sent photo.

He's mimicking her own picture, lying down on his back as well and holding up a peace sign. But what's very different is his obvious naked upper half, the covers coming up at just below his chest. His chest to her surprise looking muscular and very toned.

Her eyes also take in his shoulders and arms, feeling herself about to drool with this rather suggestive picture. She already found him pretty sexy before in all these baggy sweaters and shirts, but now knowing all of this is underneath takes it to a whole new level.

Her hands start to sweat as she ponders what to say next, feeling her body getting hot overall.

'Saved. ✅'

He smirks to himself at her response, having noticed how long it took for her to type it. Oh well she asked for it.

Time goes by unnoticed as they continue this playful/flirty texting back and forth, feeling more at ease with each other and for him a lot less tense.

Later on they find themselves going to sleep that night with a clichéd smile across their faces, the instant click between them being something of a pleasant surprise. The start of a beautiful and exciting thing perhaps.

—

(A/N): obviously I apologise for how late I posted this. I swear i have commitment problems to projects… dw it’s because we haven’t got to the good stuff 😈 can’t wait to show you what i have in mind

Comment if you wanna be tagged in all future parts! ♥️

Thanks everyone! Xx

#exo smut #suho smut #junmyeon smut #kim junmyeon smut #exo fanfic #suho fanfic #junmyeon fanfic #kim junmyeon fanfic #exo #suho #junmyeon #kim junmyeon

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cornerstonc · 3 years

Text

I posted 1,158 times in 2021

759 posts created (66%)

399 posts reblogged (34%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.5 posts.

I added 986 tags in 2021

#tbd - 312 posts

#mutastanaccount - 103 posts

#;interactions - 102 posts

#;dash games - 100 posts

#;answered by masha - 94 posts

#;bèn dàn - 62 posts

#anonymous - 62 posts

#;crack - 53 posts

#;answered - 51 posts

#;masha's art - 47 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#someone not in the know would probably look at natori's long-suffering beleaguered self and be like 'i bet he'll help us in our murder ques

My Top Posts in 2021

this is It this is the entire thought i had and then immediately set aside like 15 minutes to scribble out and scan in..................

17 notes • Posted 2021-04-05 05:35:54 GMT

wheezes well this costume idea has been in the making for like two years jfiepa was it worth the wait _(:△」∠)_

i hope so bc my hands are like covered in marker ink spots now lmao

28 notes • Posted 2021-11-01 01:49:25 GMT

Excuse me, Cat King? Is there a cat in the Cat Kingdom with the last name Jass, first name Hugh?

"What do you think I am, an idiot?! Cats don't have last names! Don't go around asking for a Hug--"

"S-- Sire, I would emphatically advise you not to finish that sentence--"

"Save it, Natori, I know what I'm talking about! As I was saying!" Here he points accusingly at the stranger, as if he is an adept and flashy attorney about to lay the smackdown. "Don't go around asking for a Hugh Jass like a weirdo! Hugh's already a strange name for a cat. There's only gonna be one, babe-- no need to get formal."

"...Wait."

"Have the guards throw them out the window."

31 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 07:16:38 GMT

the new home for these dumb shitpost edit Things since i shut down the other one. also don’t remember what number i’m up to oop

ft. just as much cat king as usual tho

49 notes • Posted 2021-06-14 02:19:49 GMT

so i recently bought the art book and it came in the mail today :v so just a handful of some of my favorite pieces i hadn’t seen online already

the second one cracks me up not only bc of the contrast between them but bc it looks like natoru knows some embarrassing secret about natori and he’s trying his damnedest to ignore her and Stay Calm jfjfkda;

also i like that it’s CanonTM the cat king is shaped like a bowling pin

76 notes • Posted 2021-03-23 05:42:40 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #fjkda most of my Popular Posts had a lot of images so i got rid of the images themselves but i kept the links #to the posts #long post #jic #even tho it's under a readmore

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

➜ Words: 4.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“I’m in love with you,” he asserts. “Gross.” Your answer is instinctive. But you’re not disgusted with him. Your features don’t twist. Your lips don’t become lopsided. Rather, the word is stated blankly. Impulsively. After all, you’ve conditioned yourself to respond like that — like anything in relation to romance is now awful. “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs, hair shagging over his forehead as he looks down. “I know. I’m pretty disgusted with myself too. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in love with you. Fucking head over heels and all that crap.” You’re rendered speechless, about to ask him if he’s fucking with you, if this is some kind of sick joke. But then suddenly, Jungkook sighs loudly, startling you. His rigid body deflates, the tension in his muscles leaves and he knocks his head back, taking a deep breath. “God, it feels so good to be honest. With myself and with you.” The sun is setting over the horizon, the warmth soaking into his skin and softening his edges. The pair of you face each other in the middle of the empty sidewalk on an equally empty campus. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to take cover. You wonder how long he’s felt this way for. You’re conflicted, unsure what to tell him. “Love’s a strong word, Jungkook.” “I’m aware.” “H-How are you even sure?” The dark-haired man looks you in the eye, his own becoming half-lidded. His breathing turns shallow, heavy in his chest and out his parted lips. “I’m sure.” You know Jungkook well enough to recognize his earnest sincerity. There isn’t a shred of doubt in his gaze nor his expression. He doesn’t waver once in his bold conviction. There’s only truth. “Well…...shit.” The words sink into you. The claws and pointed ends of each syllable nick into your flesh. In an instant, your impassiveness is torn from you — your placid state taken — your stoic face uncovered. “Fuck. Fuck!” You scream up into the sky, turning around, hands in your hair. What he’s saying registers and you hate it. You hate that love has to mess up every single relationship that you have. Goddamn. You can’t keep that disease away from affecting the people you care about most. Jungkook watches you have the small meltdown with widened eyes, not sure what to do or say. But then you whirl around after a moment, determination set in your features. All of a sudden, you grab his hand, patting it with your other firmly as if you were a doctor coaxing and comforting a patient. “We can overcome this together.” “What?” “It’s okay. This happens. If you’re friends with someone from the gender you’re attracted to, it’s natural you end up having a crush on them. It’s expected actually, considering we spend so much time together and interact so much. People encounter this issue all the time, but we can overcome it, Jungkook. Together.” You put your hand on his shoulder, eyes sympathetic. “I’ll help you get over me.” Jungkook can feel his left eye twitching. Of all responses, he did not expect this one. You’re acting like his therapist and that he’s got some kind of illness. You even end up thanking him for telling you the truth. Jungkook might actually need to see a therapist after talking to you.

Infatuation only lasts so long. Personally, in your humble opinion, you aren’t hot shit anyway. You’re not that great. Jungkook will get over himself when he sees you for how you really are. If anyone’s ever liked you, they won’t for long — you have evidence of that. “Hey, buddy!” You give finger guns as a greeting, making sure to not get too close to him. “You don’t need to patronize me.” Your voice releases stiff laughter. “Alright, bro.” You put your fist out for a fist bump, but Jungkook completely ignores you. He walks right past you with his hands in the pockets of his open coat. “Are you coming or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” he asks, briefly glancing over his shoulder. You scoff. Ever since the whole traumatizing confession, nothing’s changed. But at the same time everything has. Jungkook doesn’t act any differently — he still glares at you, calls you stupid and a witch. But you also begin to notice how affectionate his physical gestures are, when he taps your arm, when takes your shoulder to guide you away from a crowd, when he pats your head. And your efforts of keeping things as platonic as possible inadvertently makes everything awkward. It’s even worse now that you’re literally spending so much time with Jungkook. Exclusively. It’s just him, and for the months to come, it will only be him. You’ve already decided within the first minute that you won’t ignore him or distance yourself. You can’t. Not with the upcoming internship, and not when you’ve had that happen to you. You won’t do such a cruel thing to someone else. Jungkook will always be your friend no matter what and you’ll make sure of that. You catch up with him. “You know, I haven’t showered in days. This is like three-day old hair. Greasy, right? I just get so lazy showering.” “Right.” He ignores you. It goes silent and you noisily clear your throat. “Man, I had the worst shit today. It was explosive, dude.” “You really think toilet humour is going to make me stop liking you?” Jungkook stops in his tracks and you halt in a delayed manner. He shifts towards you, glaring. “What do you take me for?” You pout. “At least I’m trying.” “Try harder.” He pauses. “For the sake of both of us.” You’re befuddled over his answer and when he starts walking again, you quicken your pace to match his. “What? You don’t want to like me?” “Not if you don’t want me to. I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he hums thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.” “I already like you,” you mumble. “See?” Jungkook points out abruptly as the corner of his mouth quirks into a subtle smile. “That’s not going to help with my situation.” “Sorry.” Your cheeks puff in your pout. “Neither is that,” He says and when you quirk your head to the side, brows furrowing, he grins boyishly. “Stop worrying about it before you give yourself wrinkles. Save your energy for the internship. I’m the least of your concerns.” He’s wrong. Jeon Jungkook is the biggest thing on your mind lately.

Kim’s Wedding Cake Company sits in the middle of Imlings Avenue. It’s a bakery played in between two small boutiques. It has tan brick walls and the shop’s sign is slightly worn around the red letters, but still legible. The doorway is narrow and crowded by two large glass windows on either side that invites onlookers inside for a session of cake tasting. The bell chimes as Jungkook pushes the door open, keeping it wide until you’re able to step in. The cream walls and the floorboards create a cozy atmosphere like you’re home. But what sets it aside from an intimate abode is the paintings of wedding cakes on the walls and the rounded tables with chairs around them for customers to sit at. A counter is curved at the corner of the room, cutting off the main area from the back. The moment the bell stops ringing, a short woman comes frantically stumbling out from the doorway. “Welcome!” She grins and the wrinkles around her eyes crease. Her brunette hair is in a bun, strays falling to frame her face. The woman is maybe around her early forties. “Congratulations on your engagement!” She grabs her binder and starts flipping. “Do you have an appointment?” “Oh no! He and I…” You point at Jungkook and then back at yourself, flustered. “We’re not like that.” Jungkook is holding back laughter, watching you flounder about. You’ve suddenly become so anxious at the idea that the pair of you are engaged. He turns away to look at the woman. “What she means is that we’re your interns.” “Oh, thank god.” The woman sighs, stepping back. “For a second here, I thought I had completely forgotten about an appointment.” She turns on her feet, placing her hands on her hips and shouts, “Namjoon! Honey! We were supposed to get our interns today?!” From the other room, a man’s voice screams back. “What?!” She goes closer to the doorway, shrieking, “Our interns! Were they supposed to come today?!” “No! They’re coming in a week from now!” “Then why are they standing right here?!” “What?!” “Why are they standing here?!” You exchange a look with Jungkook, not sure what’s going on. At the same time, a stocky, tall man in the traditional chef's uniform emerges — white double-breasted jacket, black pants and an apron. “I heard you, I heard you.” “Did you mark it wrong in the calendar again?” “I swear I didn’t—” The older man’s eyes widen as they catch the two of you standing there awkwardly. You lift your hand in salutation and he laughs. “Well, what do you know! Here they are, today! Welcome to our home!” Namjoon opens the wooden separator, comes out and wipes his hands on his apron haphazardly to shake both of your hands. His wife sighs and follows closely to greet you. “You must be Y/N and Jungsook?” “Jungkook,” he corrects in dismay while you try to hide your giggles. “Right, right. My bad. My name is Namjoon and my wife here is Sejeong.” Sejeong smiles. “I’m glad you’re both on board. Do you have any experience doing wedding cakes?” “No, we haven’t.” “It’s alright,” she reassures, “We’ll teach you along the way.” “We need all the help we can get.” Namjoon sighs. “Ever since Soohyun went on maternity leave, we’ve been swamped up to our chins. Doesn’t help that it’s wedding season.” “Auntie.” A four foot eight girl comes out from the back, her long black hair tied into a ponytail at the crown of her head, and coral apron tied around her body. “The chocolate’s melted—” The girl freezes on her spot, big eyes pinpointing onto Jungkook. You glance at him, and he looks at you with a small shrug. “Has it?” Sejeong smiles and brushes past her. “I’ll go check.” The younger girl doesn’t move and Namjoon smiles. “Oh, this is my eighteen year old niece, Yuna. She’s working here part-time to help out, mostly on the weekends when she’s not at school.” “Nice to meet you.” She timidly approaches Jungkook, clearing her throat and batting her lashes at him. Jungkook blankly shakes her hand. “Hi.” You extend your own hand and it’s only then that she seems to notice you and reluctantly shakes it. “I’m Y/N and this is Jungkook.” “Jungkook,” she murmurs after you. “So you’re going to work here till August?” “Yes, they will.” Namjoon laughs heartily. “You should go help your aunt look at the chocolate, Yuna. You can only learn if you know what you did wrong or right.” “Fine.” She exhales and drags her feet away, throwing a fleeting look to Jungkook over her shoulder. Namjoon re-directs his attention to the two of you with a softened smile. “Let me show you around!” The back area is a short hall that splits into three. The door to the left is a room with a table and chairs, posters of wedding cakes on the walls and happily married couples on their wedding day. “This is our only private room we have. It’s just in case a couple has a large party with them or would like some privacy when we have our consultation.” You peek your head into the room across from it. “That is our staff room and our bathroom and where our offices are. You can always eat your lunch or take a break here.” Namjoon leads you the other way and it’s to the place you know best — silver countertops, stoves, ovens, and sinks galore. “And this is our kitchen. We have a fridge here where we keep our cakes, a small fridge, our pantry. You’ll get yourself familiar pretty soon, don’t worry.” You return from the tour back to the main area, asking questions along the way which Namjoon is happy to answer. The pair of you also offer more insight into what you know and he’s pleasantly surprised that his two interns are more experienced than expected. “It can get pretty hectic around here during the wedding season. Some days we just have appointments and cake tasting all day. Other times, we’re rushing to make a wedding cake for the following day or we might be at the wedding venue getting it all set up. We usually open up shop around eight in the morning and you guys are let off at four.” “Don’t worry, if we have to stay late to catch up on work or finish a cake up, you’ll get paid handsomely.” Namjoon grins. “We work five days a week. Sometimes you’ll have to come in on the Saturday if we have a wedding on Sunday, but it’s not often. Any questions? Comments?” “Um…” You exchange expressions with Jungkook. “No, not really. I think we got it.” Suddenly the older man bursts out laughing, startling you both. “You two don’t have to be so anxious! I was a student once too. Don’t they say wedding cake internships are one of the hardest ones you can take?” “Uh.” Jungkook gingerly smiles. “We’ve heard of that.” “Yep.” The older man bobs his head. “That’s what I thought. But don’t worry, it’ll be a lot of work, but it’ll be fun. Just don’t get on my wife’s bad side and you’ll be fine and dandy.” “Are you talking badly about me?” Sejeong comes from the back, glaring at her husband. “Oh, there she comes.” In spite of his playful warnings, Namjoon laughs, dimples marked on each side of his cheek. He leans over to plop a kiss at the top of her head and waltzes into the back, leaving her sighing. “That man. Hopeless, I swear. Anyhow...I hope you both are ready!” Sejeong claps her hands together. “No time like the present to start learning and diving into it! We have a couple arriving in an hour for a consultation and I want you guys to lead. Should be easy enough!” The two of you nod, preparing yourselves. // Both Namjoon and Sejeong give you a few moments to yourselves to breathe and not be overwhelmed. But you’re kind of excited. It’s a bit surreal that one moment you’re sitting in a lecture hall learning about theory and the next, you’re in the real world, about to apply all the knowledge you’ve gathered. For a while now, you’ve missed working and being more hands-on. You glance down to your coral apron they gave you. Jungkook is in the same one and while he grumbled about not wearing much pink before, he looks cute in it. You wanted to take a picture but he didn’t let you. Self-conscious Jungkook is one you’ve seldom seen and admittedly, endearing. “They seem really nice.” And in love. It’s pleasant to see. Even with how disgusting romance is. It just isn’t often that you can look at a couple and not think about their inevitable doom. “Yeah, they are. Thankfully. God knows how many strict head chefs are out there.” You wonder what it’s like to own a business with your husband and work together all the time — though you don’t voice your question aloud. You have an inkling Jungkook would flirtatiously answer ‘that could be us’ and you don’t need to be distracted by him right now. His presence is a distraction enough. “How about Yuna though?” You elbow him lightly in the ribs, giving a nudge while wiggling your brows. “I think she likes you.” Jungkook’s expression blanches. “She’s still in high school.” “I’m just kidding—” “And some other girl showing up is not going to stop me from liking you any less than I do,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, stating it like it’s a fact. He’s unaware of how your face heats. You quickly take a drink of water in an attempt to cool down. Goddammit — he’s being a distraction already without you having to set him up. “You still owe me that favour.” You clear your throat, changing the subject. “Remember? When you challenged me saying you could pipe better than I can temper chocolate.” “I thought we called it even.” Jungkook grins, cutely with the mole dotted underneath his mouth. “Nu-uh. That’s not fair and you know it.” You put your foot down. “We agreed the loser would have to cover for the winner when they go on break or make a mistake. And you lost, Jeon.” “Already planning on making mistakes?” You sulk. “No. I just want you to have my back.” “You already have that,” Jungkook says tenderly with a smile. “And a lot more.” Your mouth is filled with cotton. The corner of his mouth curls even more, relishing in your surprised expression. He doesn’t even bat a lash and merely looks away when the bell to the front entrance rings. “Welcome to Kim’s Wedding Catering Company.” You tear your eyes away from Jeon Jungkook’s profile. “Do you have an appointment?” “Yes, we do.” The woman smiles, dressed in a white beret and trench coat, her cheeks blushing. She’s accompanied by another woman in a leather jacket who’s holding her hand. “It should be under Lee.” “You must be Sungkyung and Victoria, congratulations on your engagement.” The both of them glance at each other, sharing giddy smiles. “Thank you.” “Right this way.” Jungkook leads them to one of the wooden tables, setting out a book as you grab the slices of cake on the plate from the back, all decorated and labeled. Sejeong who’s been watching at the counter gives an encouraging thumbs up. “So your wedding is being held during the beginning of September?” “Yes and we’re planning to cut the cake during the evening,” Sungkyung says as Jungkook jots it down on his sheet. “Will this be an outdoor or indoor wedding?” “We’re planning to have it outdoors in a garden.” “That’s nice.” Jungkook smiles. “Do you have any themes in your wedding? Any colour scheme?” “We have butterflies and we have green and purple as our colours.” “And how many guests do you have?” “About a hundred.” “Okay.” You come to the table with the long plate and two forks. Both of the women are excited, eyes lighting up as you place the cakes in front of them and take a seat beside Jungkook. “This one is vanilla cake with buttercream. It’s simple, but a classic. This one is coconut cake with coconut cream. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting, chocolate with ganache, lemon with custard filling and fondant, strawberry with salted caramel filling and fondant, and the last one here is carrot cake with butterscotch sauce filling and chocolate buttercream icing. Take your time.” “I really like this one,” Victoria whispers to her fiancée, fork points to carrot cake. “Or at least the icing part.” “I prefer this one.” Sungkyung indicates the strawberry cake and takes another bite. “We can always mix and match,” you tell them with a smile. “It’s possible to do strawberry cake with buttercream.” “Buttercream usually tastes better than fondant, but if it’s hot outside, it might melt.” Jungkook’s brows knit together and you look at him, humming for a second. “Well, we always put a layer of fondant over the buttercream so they also get that smooth look and we wouldn’t have to worry about melting.” The boy nods. “Yeah, that would work.” “That sounds really good.” The two women smile at each other. “How much would it cost?” “Ummm…” Jungkook flips through the binder, memory failing him. He finally finds the table of all the prices on the tenth page. “For us, it depends on what kind of cake you end up choosing and how many tiers it’ll be, but it should be around four hundred to five hundred. For a hundred people, I’d recommend…..uh…” “Three to four layers.” You finish his sentence and Jungkook looks at you gratefully. You leave the two of them to finish up the cakes and to discuss with one another. Sejeong who’s been waiting at the back has her compliments prepared. “Great job, you two. Couldn’t have done it better myself!” It’s stressful to remember the details, but luckily Sejeong is merciful and allows the two of you to shadow her as she goes out to explain the designs, possible flower arrangements on the cake and discuss how they want it to look. She also goes more into detail about prices, providing the women with a write-up of what it would look like. When the consultation is finished, there’s not a moment to breathe. You’re ushered into the kitchen where Namjoon is working on a wedding cake. “So I already baked these babies yesterday and let them cool down in the fridge. I’ve also made the buttercream just now. Today we crumb coat our cakes and colour fondant. Tomorrow, we’re going to cover the cakes with fondant, put dowels in and stack our tiers, and decorate, then it’s all ready for delivery! Easy, huh?” “Umm…” The older man laughs noisily from his chest. “I’m guessing you two know how to crumb coat cakes?” “Yes, we do.” “Great. Then this is all on you. Make sure not to mess up! It’s the bride and groom’s special day! People only have a wedding once...hopefully.” There’s not any pressure whatsoever. Namjoon leaves, coming in and out to help with his wife and niece cleaning the front and watching over your shoulder. But he has little to say to both you and Jungkook when he finds your techniques sufficient. The cakes are placed on a turntable, bench scrapers and offset icing spatulas in hand. You add a thin layer of frosting to trap cake crumbs and prevent them from popping up in your finished cake. And while you crumb coat two layers, Jungkook does one and goes to colour fondant. Namjoon teaches him, rolling the fondant into a ball and kneading until it’s soft and pliable. A small dot of pink is added and he kneads the colour until it’s blended. Once you’re done with the cakes, you help Jungkook with another ball of fondant, kneading until your arms are sore. Afterwards, the two of you assist Sejeong and Yuna, organizing the shelves of baking pans, various coloured ribbons, and bins of cookie and cake cutters. It’s tiresome, but you feel rejuvenated when they let you try some of the spare cake slices they offer. It’s delicious, melting on your palate and Namjoon jokingly quizzes both of you on what kind of icing works best with what cakes and what ingredients are in each of them. You’d like to say you won. They also teach you how to answer emails and phone calls, and both you and Jungkook arrange a few appointments for next week. The day is over before you’ve realized. “Good work, you two!” Sejeong praises. “You’re very fast learners.” “I heard you rank high at your school.” Namjoon smiles in spite of your modest protests. “I believe you know her as Miss. Kang. She speaks highly of you two and I’m not disappointed.” “Jungkook, I heard you wanted to be a Chocolatier?” Namjoon asks and the boy is like a deer in the headlights, doe eyes rounded. He nods slowly. “Yes, that’s my long-term goal.” “When we have a moment then, I’ll work on something with you,” he promises with another dimpled smile and Jungkook is visibly enthused. “Anyway, I hope nothing was too overwhelming. Get a good night’s rest and we’ll continue tomorrow!” They close up shop as the sun sets over the horizon and Yuna waves wildly, bidding Jungkook farewell. “Bye, Jungkook!” He makes a noise, a small ‘bye’ to her before the two of you turn away after waving to the married couple. You walk down the street together, towards the bus stop where it’ll guide you home. “That wasn’t bad.” “Yeah.” There’s a pause. Jungkook smiles at you. “It wasn’t.” Silence eventually falls in between the spaces. You can feel your eye bags deepening, your bones creaking with every movement. You’re exhausted from the long day, unable to utter a single word, but the quiet that settles is comfortable rather than awkward. Your feet are moving on their own against the pavement, the sounds of cars moving past shaping the white noise of the city. It’s a long way back home, but as you glance at Jungkook, walking alongside him with your footsteps synced together, you’re glad he’s here. The two of you have each other for support. You’re unknowing to how Jungkook shares the same sentiment. He takes a glimpse of you when you don’t notice, stealing glances like he’s stealing candy. The smile on his face softens. His own words echo back to him— “I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he had hummed thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.” It occurs to Jungkook that he’s found his answer. He realizes he can’t ‘overcome’ his feelings. He can’t get over you like you think he can.

If you rejected him, his concern of making you uncomfortable would far outweigh these simmering emotions inside of him, but you didn’t. The fact of the matter is that Jungkook knows your aversion is towards love, not him. And with such uncertainty and possibilities, it’s impossible to get over you.

It won’t work. Not when you’re you.

So Jungkook chooses the other path — the other approach. He makes the decision right then and there. Instead of idly standing by and allowing you to sprout nonsense and drive him even more crazy, he’s going to act. He’s going to actually do something about his feelings— Jeon Jungkook is going to court you.

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #sugar and coffee #btsboulangerie #jungkook reader insert #JUNGKOOK AS DUMB #AND OC AS DUMBER #IS JUNGOO BRAVE OR STUPID #does it even matter?? cause he's about to evolve Y'ALL #LEVELING UP

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