#it's been seven years i think it's okay to post this now. it bugs me so much. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

janeyseymour · 9 months

Note

Hii hope ur doing well x If ur still accepting requests for Mel x Reader could u do one where reader has some type of disability like chronic pain and they have a flare at school (cause they both work there) and Mel immediately runs to action and there's like Loooots of comfort etc hehe :3

I hope this is what you're looking for!

Too Late Now

WC:~4.3k

You usually have this under control. Since your fourth concussion, you’ve dealt with the headaches and the occasional migraines easily. Doctors have been helping you and make sure that you always have your emergency migraine medication at the ready.

On top of that, it’s been seven years that you’ve been living with this. You know the when a headache or a migraine is coming for the most part. You didn’t even bother writing down on your forms when you got hired that you should technically have accommodations due to your chronic migraines. You just know how to handle them at this point. It’s part of your everyday life.

Melissa, your girlfriend, doesn’t even know about your condition. She doesn’t need to know. You saw the way she sprung into action when you had the flu a few months ago- or when you had caught the stomach bug from the kids. After taking care of you with absolutely no complaints, she got sick both times herself. You took care of her too, much to her dismay. She was a caretaker, she did not like to be the one being taken care of.

When you wake up, you feel a little funny. But something is going around the school, as it always is around this time of year. So you chalk it up to that, and you take an Advil and an allergy pill.

When you’re leaving, you almost have half a mind to throw in your migraine medication just in case… but you get distracted by a text from Melissa asking if you wanted coffee this morning from Dunkin.

Of course I do, you reply back.

Your usual?

Please, and thank you.

Sounds good. I’ll see you at school gorgeous.

And because of that text exchange, you forget to throw your pills in your purse and leave the house.

As you’re driving, your headache worsens just slightly, and you groan. Allergy season was bad at this time of year, and your sinuses have been paying for it- post nasal drip is at an all time high, you’ve already had an ear infection this season, and you’ve been getting sinus headaches because of it. You don’t realize a migraine is coming on yet, so you just pop another Advil before you head into Abbott.

Your girlfriend is waiting for you in the teacher’s lounge like usual, and she almost immediately sees how unwell you’re feeling.

“Hey, baby,” she says softly as she kicks out the seat next to her.

“Hey,” you sigh, but you don’t take a seat. You just lean down and peck her lips before standing back up straight with a grimace.

She hands you your coffee with a frown. “You feelin’ okay, hon?”

“Allergies,” you say through a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go sit in my classroom this morning, but you enjoy your news.”

“Alright, hon. Do you want me to come with you?”

“I know how much you like your news,” you tell her. “I’ll be okay.” You head to your classroom, and she watches you in concern.

By the time the kids are supposed to come in, you know exactly what’s happening- a migraine is coming on. And you, like an absolute lovesick idiot, forgot your medication because you were too busy texting your sweet girlfriend. Your head is in your hands as you massage at your temples, the lights are off, the sound of the barely functioning air conditioning is making your eyes throb in pain.

Hypothetically, you could call out now. But there’s a shortage in substitutes, you don’t think you can even think properly to create sub plans, the thought of moving from your desk makes you want to cry, and you know it’s only a short amount of time until you’re unable to drive for the next… eleven hours. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it the drive home.

You have no idea how you’re going to survive today without your medication.

When the kids start to make their way in, you nearly burst into tears. You silently thank God that you didn’t put any makeup on today. You throw your sunglasses on as they trickle in, and you stay seated at your desk.

You can’t teach today, and you know this. It’s going to be a day where the kids sit quietly and watch magic school bus, you take them out for extra recess, and then they can sit and work on their projects, or read and draw. You don’t care what happens today, as long as they aren’t loud.

Again, your kids think that they have a sub until they see you sitting at your desk in the dark.

“Ms. Y/N?” one of the girls comes in and runs up to your desk.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, and even the eight year old can see the pain etched in your face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Skylar,” you tell her quietly. “Ms. Y/N’s head just hurts, so today is mostly going to be an independent and quiet work day. Unpack and get ready for today, love bug.”

The little girl gives you a gentle hug before going to her desk and unpacking. You keep your eyes closed as the rest of them trickle in, and they’re oddly quiet. They are never this quiet. You almost always have to remind them to do their handwriting pages and do their lunch count.

When you do open your eyes to take attendance and explain to them what’s happening today, you see that Skylar had quietly taken it upon herself to write the morning routine on the board.

Morning! The note on the board reads. Ms. Y/N’s head hurts, so come in quietly. Unpack, lunch count, the next page in journal, then DEAR.

Your heart melts, and you realize how lucky you are that your students genuinely care about you the way that they do. Skylar is over by the lunch count board writing a tally for you, and she quietly comes and slips it over to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you whisper to her, and you have a small tear trail down your cheek. “Do you want me to take it to Ms. Schemmenti to put in, or should I take it down to the office?”

“I can put it in, honey,” you give her a gentle squeeze before opening your laptop. You wince immediately due to the light, but you can handle this. You can’t have her go down to Melissa’s- your girlfriend would flip her lid when she found out how under the weather you were feeling and you didn’t stay home or ask for her help.

All of your students watch you silently. They’ve never seen you this drained. Sure, they’ve seen you sick; you rarely call out. They’ve seen you tired after a night of volunteering or staying up late to finish grading papers and preparing for them. But they have never, ever seen you this down- to the point that your skin is pale and you can’t take off your sunglasses because your head hurts so bad.

“Miss Y/N?” one of the boys raises his hand quietly, and he’s usually known for giving you a hard time.

“Yes, Cameron?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You just barely nod and take a shaky breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do today,” you tell them. “We’re going to do our independent work for each of our subjects today- I know we have projects and papers in all of the subjects except math. For math, I’ll have… somebody… take you outside for extra recess, and if you’re good and quiet today, I’ll put on Magic School Bus at the end of the day for dismissal. Deal?”

All of your kids nod, and you give them half a smile. Then you get a shooting pain right behind your left temple, and you quietly cry out in pain. You grip the table for a few seconds and take a deep breath before you open your eyes again. They all look absolutely terrified.

“Nobody tells Ms. Schemmenti,” you tell them as you point at them all.

They all raise their hands in surrender.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, shakily. “Who is going to lead our morning meeting?” It’s Rayna.

When that’s over, the kids quietly pull out their social studies projects and start to work on them. When social studies is over, they quietly move on to their independent reading for fifteen minutes. And then they line themselves up silently for specials.

“Can I trust you all to walk yourselves down to the gym silently?” As you write a note to the gym teacher explaining that they are coming on their own and to just send them back down to your room when gym is over.

“I take my line leader duty very seriously, Ms. Y/N,” Jayden tells you seriously. “If we aren’t quiet, I’ll tell you.” You nod, hand him the note with the instruction to give it to the PE teacher, and they’re off.

You get approximately forty-five minutes of peace and absolute silence. You close the door, grab your coat and throw it over your head, and lay down on the back table. You’re small enough to fit if you curl up.

On your kids’ way back to the classroom, they just happen to see your girlfriend in the hallway on her way out of the teachers’ lounge.

“Where’s Ms. Y/N?” the redhead asks with a popped eyebrow. You always walk with your children everywhere.

All of the kids look at each other nervously, remembering the way you told them that they weren’t to tell the second grade teacher. But Melissa is staring them down.

“She called the gym teacher and told him to just let us walk down by ourselves because she had to use the bathroom,” Jayden tells a fib, and he hates doing it to his former teacher. But he promised you.

Melissa furrows her brows, but Jayden’s always been a good kid. “Okay… Well, tell Miss Y/N to put up another class compliment star because you’re all walking through the hallway very nicely.”

The line leader nods and takes off in the direction of your classroom, while Melissa heads towards the office to make copies.

You’ve just barely managed to get yourself back to your desk when the kids come back in, but your migraine is starting to make you nauseous, and you don’t even know what to do anymore. You won’t even be able to drive yourself home, so you just have to wait this out- at least you should get paid for it.

“We saw Ms. Schemmenti in the hall,” Omari tells you quietly while everyone else is getting out their snacks. “She said to give us a class compliment star because we were walking so nicely.”

“Nobody said anything, did they?” you ask.

“Jayden told her you were in the bathroom and told the gym teacher to just let us walk down,” your student says. “I don’t think he liked having to lie to her though… and Ms. Schemmenti didn’t really look like she believed him.”

As if on cue, the second grade teacher is knocking softly on your doorframe. She looks so concerned for you. “Ms. Y/N?”

You thank God you weren’t facing the door and have half a mind to rip off your sunglasses before standing and meeting her on the other side of the room. “Class, eat your snacks while I talk to Ms. Schemmenti in the hallway.”

“Amore,” Melissa whispers softly as she gets a look at you. “You look terrible. Why don’t you go home? I can split your class between the other third grade class and mine- not like I haven’t juggled two grades at one time before.”

“I- I can’t go home,” you mumble, and you wince at the florescent lights that aren’t out for once.

“And why’s that?”

You bite your lip. You have to admit to her just how terrible you’re feeling. She’s going to flip out and become insanely protective. She’s going to be upset you didn’t tell her about your condition before. “I get chronic migraines sometimes, and I… I have one right now.”

“Oh, hon,” Melissa whispers sympathetically.

“I usually have meds for it to lessen the pain, but I left it at my house this morning, and I think if I tried to drive home, I would throw up or black out,” you tell her honestly. “The kids have been really great this morning though, and they understand.”

“How can I help?”

“During my math period, can you take them outside? They deserve extra recess today,” you practically whimper as you close your eyes and brace yourself for the shooting pain you can feel getting ready to come on.

“Why don’t I just split the kids for the rest of the day while you lay down?” your girlfriend suggests.

“I’m here, they’re behaving and quiet, and I need to get paid,” you tell her. “They’re okay with me for everything except math.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the redhead sighs. “But you just call if you need me, you hear?”

“I know,” you say softly. “I’ll be-” You cut yourself off with a whine and grab her arm as the pain comes. When it’s over, you relax and finish, “-fine.”

Your girlfriend shakes her head with a deep breath before stepping into your classroom. Jayden looks terrified.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he says quickly. “I didn’t want to, but I-”

“It’s okay, buddy,” she says softly before looking to the rest of the class. “You be on your best behavior for Ms. Y/N, and if anything happens, you come down to my room. I’ll be over during your math time for extra recess if you continue having a great day. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” your students reply, and you walk slowly into your room before putting your glasses back on and putting your head in your hands. Melissa gives you a gentle pat on the back before squeezing your shoulder three times.

Your kids finish their snack, and when that’s over they work on their research project for writing. They line themselves up silently for lunch and walk themselves down. You take up your position on your back table again, and close your eyes. You beg God to make the pain stop, and you finally give in, crying.

What you don’t know is that your sweet, sweet girlfriend is on her way to your apartment to grab your medicine. She also grabs a gatorade and your favorite hoodie (that is actually hers). She stops at Wawa and grabs you a Tasty Cake before returning to the school.

When she gets to your classroom, her heart breaks. She can see the way that you’re shaking from underneath your coat, and she has no doubt that you’re crying.

“Oh hon,” she mumbles as she makes her way over to you. She lays a delicate hand on your back and rubs up and down soothingly. “I brought your medicine, your favorite hoodie, and a Tasty Cake from Wawa. Can you take the medicine for me?”

Her kindness and gentleness just makes you cry even harder- and that only makes your head hurt worse.

Your alarm on your watch starts to go off, and you whine. “I don’t think I can do my recess duty today.”

“I’ll get the music teacher to cover it- she’ll do anything to get some of my meatballs,” your girlfriend tells you. “You just take your meds, and hopefully they kick in.”

You nod, just barely manage to sit up and take the medication and you take the hoodie and ball it up and put it under your head.

After she calls the music teacher and arranges your coverage, she asks, “Jeet today?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Can you try to eat the cupcakes I brought?” At your nod, she opens it for you and practically feeds it to you.

“Did you eat?” you ask your girlfriend.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she dismisses your concern. “I’ll get my lunch in eventually- just might be while the kids are running around on the playground for math.”

Once you’ve had one of the cupcakes, you groan. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, hon,” Melissa frowns. “You know your body.”

“My body wants to sleep.”

“Well, you have another thirty minutes of recess, and you know I’ll always take your kids for you,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You nod and close your eyes. “Set my alarm for the end of recess? And if you wouldn’t mind just sending my kids here from outside for me?”

She presses a delicate kiss to the side of your head, but she doesn’t set your alarm. She fully intends to let you sleep the rest of the school day, and she’ll take your kids for you- all twenty three of them. She can handle it.

It’s not like Ava is here to tell you you can’t get paid for today. And in reality, Ava wouldn’t care anyway.

Your perfect, wonderful girlfriend picks your kids up from recess, and she has no idea how she manages this, but every single child is able to grab their belongings without waking you up. They were even able to silently move their chairs.

When you wake back up, your head is still pounding. It’s starting to ease up though. You glance at your watch from underneath your coat.

4:12 is staring back at you. School has been over for an hour…

You take your coat off of your head to see a classroom without chairs and Melissa perched on the closest desk to you, glasses on the tip of her nose and reading something on her phone.

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” she says quietly as she puts her phone away. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed rest. Your kids’ chairs are in my room, and I told them to just come get them tomorrow.”

“I slept at school for almost four hours.”

“And how are you feeling now?” she prompts again.

“The prescription is starting to kick in,” you mumble. “But because I didn’t take it during the onset, I mostly just have to ride it out.”

“How long do your migraines usually last?”

“Hopefully, I only have another three hours of this hell,” you tell her.

“And are you feeling okay to go home?”

“I’m shocked Mr. J hasn’t come in here to kick us out,” you grumble.

Melissa flashes you that devious Schemmenti smile. “He did. But I told him… in a non-threatening way… that we would be staying here until you woke up on your own, and I would lock up the school.” She twirls the keys around her finger. “Now, do you need to stay here to ride it out, or…?”

“I really don’t know if I can drive to my apartment yet,” you admit sheepishly. “I’m still kind of nauseous.”

“Can I take you back home, then?” your girlfriend asks you softly as she fixes your wild locks.

You nod with a groan as you sit up. You go to grab your bags, but Melissa already has them next to her and both of your things are slung over her shoulders in a second.

“You just worry about getting your pretty little self into the car, yeah?” She presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and you know it’s all in your head, but her kiss makes you feel even the slightest bit better.

She piles your things in her car as you slowly get in and close your eyes. She gets in not a few seconds later, closing the door as quietly as she can. As the two of you are pulling out of the parking lot, you feel her warm hand settle on your thigh, and she squeezes it gently. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does- especially given how you’re feeling right now.

When she pulls in, she tells you gently to head in and up to bed. She’ll handle all of your things, she’ll be right in to curl up with you and/or nurse you back to health.

“I just have to ride it out, honey,” you remind her.

“Well, we’ll curl up together then,” she tells you. “And when you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make us something for dinner.”

“I love you,” you sigh softly as you drag yourself out of the car. You get yourself into the house and are just laying down in bed as she comes in. She changes, lays down next to you, and pulls you into her arms gently.

“Hon, I can sleep on my own,” you mumble into her chest. “I know you have a shit ton to grade.”

“I can do that tomorrow during my prep,” she whispers. “Right now, my girlfriend needs some love and attention.”

Because of her warmth and the delicate fingers that are tracing patterns on your arms, you fall asleep easily. And when you wake up, she’s still laying with you, and she’s half asleep herself. You wake up to a mouthful of red hair, and you sigh in content. Your head is no longer pounding- you think your migraine is gone.

“How’re you feeling?” your girlfriend asks you softly, eyes still closed.

“So much better,” you tell her truthfully. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve had dinner or graded stuff while I slept.”

“And what kinda girlfriend would that make me, hon?” Melissa retorts. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better. You ready to eat a real meal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “After a few more minutes of cuddles?”

“I can’t say no to that.”

After a few more minutes, and a rather loud grumble of both of your stomachs, you head into the kitchen hand in hand. She starts making dinner while you go over to one of her bags and start grading the math tests she gave to her class yesterday.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells you as she stirs the pot.

“I have to make it up to you somehow,” you say as you mark a few questions wrong.

“You can make it up to me by tellin’ me why I never knew you got migraines… and frequently enough to have the good shit prescribed to you,” the redhead says as she turns to look at you pointedly.

You frown and keep your eyes trained on the papers in front of you as you shrug.

“Y/N,” she says sternly. “C’mon.”

“Nobody really knows,” you mumble before you clear your throat. You suppose you have to be honest with your girlfriend. “After my fourth concussion seven years ago… it’s just something I got used to dealing with. I usually have them under control and can just push through them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” she asks softly. “Or at least told me this morning when we were in the staff room?”

“I thought I was fine,” you tell her honestly. “It didn’t hit me until after I had already walked into my room, and at that point… it was too late, and I didn’t want you fussing over me for something I could’ve prevented.”

“Hey,” Melissa turns the burner down to let her sauce simmer. “I always worry about you- whether you’re sick or not. But when I saw you this morning, I knew something was wrong. You shoulda told me. I would’ve driven to your place to get your medicine sooner.”

“I was just going to tough it out,” you sigh.

“You were going to pass the hell out in pain,” she tells you. “Your kids were really worried about you.”

“I know they were… They were so sweet today and made sure they were on their best behavior for me,” you say softly. “I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of the morning message Sky put up on the board for the rest of the class.”

“They were just as well behaved for me,” the second grade teacher tells you honestly. “Although that may be because I promised them all doughnuts if they were good.”

“So… we have to leave early to pick up doughnuts for the kids?” you laugh. At her nod, you shake your head playfully. “I’m buying.”

“With whose card?” she snorts out.

“Mine, thank you very much,” you tease back.

With your banter, Melissa knows you’re feeling much better and are on your way to feeling 100 percent again soon.

After dinner, the two of you go back to lay in bed.

“Put a few of your pills in a plastic baggie for me to keep in my car for you tomorrow,” Melissa tells you as she pulls you into her arms again.

“Babe, I usually have them on me,” you tell her. “This was a one time thing.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” she mumbles against your head, kissing it gently. “And if I can help prevent you from crying out in pain at a small noise, I will.”

“Okay, honey.”

The next morning, the two of you show up to school with dozens of doughnuts for the kids, and yours and Melissa’s classes enjoy the treats together. They’re all thrilled to be rewarded with the sweet treat. They’re happy that they can talk in their own classroom again. They’re glad to see that you’re back to yourself.

“Ms. Y/N?” Skylar asks as she gives you a hug that morning.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

“Can you like, not get sick like that again? I’m happy we got doughnuts, but I don’t wanna have to play teacher again for you… It was hard.”

You chuckle as you muss her hair. “I’ll do my best kiddo.”

Melissa just nudges you with a smirk. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she assures your student.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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anattemptatmeaning · 4 months

Text

Meredith: First Time Caller, Long Time Listener - Chapter Two: Out the Dark

Author Notes: I'll beautify the post later - I'm exhausted and pumped up from a date with my partner and hanging with my homie that I haven't seen in-person close to a year. Crazy, huh? But we kissed! And I've never kissed before! History in the making! Anyways, I figured I'd drop this before life gets in the way again. Not much happens. Apologies. I've literally had all of this chapter written except for the last two paragraphs for weeks if not months now, but best to get it out of the way. I'm so excited for what's to come...the story of Meredith is near and dear to my heart and so help me, I will fight for her. Of course, if you're just seeing this, do read Chapter One: Fire Starting first! It's even shorter and pinned on my blog! ------ Tags: @nocturnest @brittklein18 @silver-spoon-paper-plate @luluartpop @pretty-little-mind33 Yes, I do keep track of y'all and really appreciate that you're giving me a chance. Seriously. Thank you. Please don't think I'm stalking you. Pretty please.

------ Chapter Summary: Without Lemon, Tangerine gets a job of his own. Theme Song: Johnny's Gonna Die - The Replacements

youtube

Word Count: 632 -------

Chapter Two: Out the Dark

One week. One fucking week.

More than long enough to take a solo job. Extra income was always a plus.

Against his better judgement of being fucking proactive like a professional, he couldn’t get the possibility of the whole situation suddenly going tits up off his mind, keeping Tangerine pathetically glued to his seat with the occasional fidget aside, eyes darting from anything akin to a pin drop.

After hours and still on edge, he’s checked every nook and cranny of the house.

Nothing bugged. Nothing hiding to ambush. Nothing out of the fucking ordinary.

He’s unable to stay focused on his novel, the swashbuckling antics of the Three Musketeers only fuelling his panic. He isn’t D’Artagnan at the Bastion de La Rochelle; he’s Milady on trial.

He thought about going to a pub, but he preferred to drink only after a job, and he hadn’t done shit that day.

“These the Twins?” Deep. Feminine. Mature.

“One of them.”

“I see. Still able to take on new clients?”

Why the fuck else would you call? “Yeah.” Sarcasm slipped in. He had gotten his fill of impertinent phone calls for the day.

“Perfect.” A tad higher-pitched. Pleasant. Mocking? “In the States, Saint Paul, Minnesota…”

Saint Paul.

It had been seven years since the Twins had taken their only job there.

It paid 10 million American dollars and he leaped at the chance.

The job was right fucked up. He’d done his share of shit, but Saint Paul made Bolivia child’s play.

That being said, Saint Paul was a big part of why he and his brother were so feared and successful nowadays. And he figured he’d at least spare the decency of never showing up there again.

Until the right business opportunity arose, of course.

“...Central District, there’s a cop, Justin Geoffrey.”

Justin Geoffrey.

The name was familiar.

He hadn’t recalled meeting or killing the guy, but it rattled in the back of his head.

“Sparing details, he’s crooked.” Attempting aloofness. Actually aggrieved. “It’s. Personal. I want him dead. I’m willing to pay three million–”

Well, shit.

“Consider it done. I’ll book a flight to Minneapolis.”

“Good. May I text this number?” More relaxed.

“Yeah.”

The line hung up. Within seconds, he receives a message from a contact identified only by a black-and-white square emoji.

🔲: Save this number and send a photo of Geoffrey’s body here. I’ll complete the wire transfer once you’re done.

The adrenaline coursing from the assignment of a mission pushed him to finally get off his ass and text Lemon.

🍊: Got a job.

🍋: See? doing something with your time already

🍊: In Saint Paul.

Tangerine knew Lemon would take longer to respond after mentioning that. His foot tapped even quicker.

🍋: Are you okay?

🍊: What kind of question is that? I do the job and come right fucking back. Simple.

🍋: You’re amped up again bruv you’d never go back there

🍊: Until now. Client’s offering three mil

🍋: three mil is fucking insane but maybe this is a trap?

🍊: Wouldn’t they want both of us? And what was that about you not bleeding? Same thing, I’ll handle shit

🍋: I don’t trust this. Seven years and now you get a call from that place?

🍊: We deliberately avoided Minnesota for years, wasn’t fucking blindness

🍋: This is Diesel shit bruv

🍊: Fucking again?

🍋: Just be on the lookout, I don’t like this at all

Tangerine lowered his phone with a huff. He routinely obtained what he needed for the job: ammunition, bulletproof vest, first-aid, holsters, weapons. All-in-all while slamming clothes into his suitcase, he was just relieved to do something of the ordinary in spite of the White Death bullshit.

Justin Geoffrey.

Tangerine clarified he had stolen the right ticket and left the house. ------

"Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in the bosom of a man like smoke." - Homer

#tangerine bullet train #lemon bullet train #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train fanfic #original character #fanfic #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #Youtube

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baekhvuns · 2 months

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HIIII BAEKSSSSS I missed you 😔 how are you? Wsp? How's everything?

Man, I've been pretty peaceful I'd say..kinda idk. Maybe the calm before the storm but that's besides the point. I miss your work so so so much 🥹🥹🥹 like rlly, not wanting to pressurise you just GIRL RLLY MADE 2022 SUCH A GOOD EXPERIENCE.

Anyways I've been watching a ton of stuff ofc, found a new pakistani drama 😈😈 well it's kind of the same plot as u wld guess, but I like this one it's like if not a lot then a bit diff frm the same ass dynamic. It's like a first daughter x youngest son the fun part is it was supposed to be, first daughter x first son but he was a jerk and a red flag. So yes...it'd be fun, it's a silly dynamic imo ik for sure there are going to be a ton banters.

ALSO dude these asmr Rps be getting Outta hand 😭 Nah cz i cried. I CRIED. THE ANGST OHHHHH. Some asmr artists are just so fucking good like alanakamakwk i felt like I was in a movie.

Lemme tell u a bit abt it, so the concept was basically, an old bsf comes back into the listener's life not in a bad way or anything just cz the bsf lived farrrrr away.

"do you wanna see the new tattoo i got?"

LIKE OKAY and then we did trace them too and a while later the convo goes deep "i got this tattoo bcz u told me seven years ago, what you don't rmr?" And then he sort of reminisces over the old times

"and that day..I went home, and texted you how much I liked you. And wanted to hang out with you a bunch.."

"that didn't happen I never texted you."

BRO OMG OMG ONWKWJWKW IM TELLING YOU THE FREAKIN TENSION BW ME AND MY HEADPHONES.

And then the best part was the listeners bf calls who also used to be friends with the bsf, and goes "i love you."

In hopes of hearing it frm us too. "Dear...?" Silence.

NO CUZ IMAGINE STANDING IN FRONT OF SOMEONE U ACTUALLY LOVE AND U GOTTA SAY ILY TO YOUR BF WHAT??? OMG.

And then when he comes out to go run errands he talks to the bsf AKA THE ASMR ARTIST I TELL U HIS VOICE *melts*

"we'll see you right?"

"... farewell"

That's the visual representation of me I'm not even kidding. And....he just leaves. LIKE THAT?? WHAT ABOUT US AHHHH *dies*

Nah but yes, I've been obsessed now. At least it makes me feel something 😮‍💨

Ok also no way my old Bollywood obsession is dying anytime soon *listens to bol na halke halke*

Anyways bye bye baeks MAKE SURE TO TELL ME ABT YOURSELF HOW U DOING AND STUFF OK?? OK MWAH ILY 🤭

YOU SENT THIS LAST WEEK AND I JUST KIND OF LOGGED INFBWNDBSK SO SORRY

i hope you’re doing well!! i’m currently sick bc of a heatwave i caught at a wedding 🥰🥰

i’m glad you’re feeling peaceful! AND DHSKDHKW DONT MENTION IT FNDMSKC ITS BEEN 2 YEARS 😭😭😭 maybe my writing bug just dimmed LMFAOOOO haven’t been on here or read anything, ive been in my drafts just giggling and reading but never like posting or writing fbdndb but ive kind of, maybe wanting to write something for fall time which i’m not sure ill post but it’s got me smiling a bit!

WHAT IS THE SHOW TELL ME 🔫

omg i can never get behind asmr, i have this thing called misophonia, i just despise the way the arm sounds make my ears feel fmandksb i just feel triggered BUT U CRIED BC OF IT WHY 😭😭

u gotta send me the link of it bc the voice actor u say… 👁

does our bollywood obsession rly die 😭😭 the new tauba tauba got me going a bit crazy,,, heard the jannat bgm but sad version and iM OBSESSED WITH IT, it lowkey inspired me to think and write <3 got me giggling and imaging stuff <3 in my pillow fbwndbsj

#✉️ : ask #[ nothingjustme444 ]

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

NUMBER ONE

A/N: i've been dying to post this fic for so long! i wrote this first so it's been sitting in my drafts for over a month, if not two haha! it's a good old fake dating trope with personal assistant reader, one of my fav things! happy holidays to you all, hope you are having a loving time!🎁

PAIRING: Harry Styles X PA!Reader

WORD COUNT: 10.3k

masterlist

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2021 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“What do you mean you can’t come?! You promised me a month ago, Jonathan!”

Holding the phone to your ear you have a finger in your other to hear whatever he is saying on the other end of the line. The concert is still on and it’s almost impossible to find a spot backstage where you can actually hear something, not when Harry is blowing the place up, just as usual.

“I know! I’m sorry, but you know my brother is the only one in the family with a driver’s license other than me and he broke his fucking ankle, now I have to be the chauffeur for all my aunts during the holidays!” he growls in frustration.

“Then get a real chauffeur! Or can’t you drive them around after you’ve spent the night at mine?”

“Just tell your mom something came up for me, okay? And that I’m really sorry, I wish I could be there blah blah blah. I’m sorry, Y/N, okay? I really wanted to help you, but I can’t.”

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath, trying your best to hold your tears back.

You should have known this whole plan was the worst idea you’ve ever had, but when you’re desperate there’s nothing that sounds too ridiculous. The plan was to bring Jonathan home for Christmas so he can pretend to be your boyfriend and your family would stop bugging you about being single now that your sister is engaged. When Leila called you with the news a month ago you were extremely happy but you also knew you would never hear the end of it that your sister, who is three years younger than you is engaged and you don’t even have a boyfriend.

“I have a busy schedule and I’m focusing on my career,”you tell them every time, but they think it’s just a lame excuse. Well, it is an excuse, but you wouldn’t say it’s lame. It’s the truth, you don’t have much time left next to the tasks you carry with being a superstar’s personal assistant and tour manager at the same time. It’s a killer combo, but you love the challenges and you love the job. Your mother however thinks you’ll never find a husband if you keep working in this pace and she is already praying for your soul even though you’re only twenty-seven, you have plenty of time.

And besides… you’re not quite interested in dating. Not when the man of your dreams is right in front of you and he also happens to be your boss.

“It’s fine,” you mumble into the phone.

“I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Sure. I gotta go,” you sigh when you hear the last song starting.

You end the call with a bitter goodbye and take a moment to yourself to think about the trouble you brought on yourself. When your mom kept bringing up your nonexistent dating life over the phone you couldn’t take it anymore and opened your big mouth, telling her that you’d be bringing someone home for Christmas. Not anyone, your boyfriend. Which you obviously don’t have. Jonathan is your only straight male friend who you’d trust with the situation and it took some time to convince him to do it, but at last he agreed to be your fake boyfriend, however his brother’s accident screwed it all up and you’re supposed to fly home in a few days with him but… it’s gone to shit and you’re gonna have to explain to your family why you’re alone again.

It seems like a frown is etched onto your face, because as Harry runs off the stage, sweaty and high on adrenaline he freezes as he sees you, a quizzed look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you grumble. “Go and get ready to leave,” you tell him, sending out a few texts, avoiding to look at him. When he doesn’t move for several moments your eyes snap up at him. “Would you not be a pain in the ass and do what I asked?”

“Woah, what’s gotten your panties twisted?” he asks with a frown, but heads to his dressing room finally and you walk along him, busying yourself with your phone.

“I said nothing. I’m gonna go and talk to head of security. Meet me at the car in thirty.”

Harry wants to question your sudden change of act, but he has no chance as you run off to do your work.

Running your usual rounds in the venue you make sure everything is going smooth, the arena is slowly emptying out and the stage crew starts to take the stage apart and load everything into the trucks. For a little bit you forget about having to face your family, but as soon as you head out to the car to meet Harry it comes back clashing down on you.

“You’re starting to worry me, Y/N. You look like the world is about to end,” Harry comments on your act once again as the two of you climb into the car and head back to the hotel.

“If the world ended today I would be the happiest,” you mumble barely audible, but he still catches your words.

“You sound like an emo teen, would you just tell me what got you so upset?”

“I’m upset because I’m stupid!” you groan, folding your arms on your chest. The driver starts the car and you roll out of the parking lot, passing by hoards of fans, but neither of you care about them now. Harry is watching you intently as you load your problems out on him. “Jonathan was supposed to come home with me for Christmas, but his brother broke his fucking ankle so he can’t come and I have to go home alone!��

“Okay, I feel like I’m missing something,” Harry comments, eyes narrowed at you. “Why was he supposed to go home with you?”

Pursing your lips you think about telling him a lie. You don’t necessarily want him to know that you’re so desperate you told your mother you have a boyfriend when you’re as single as you can get. This is something only crazy people do who think that their life is a movie.

“I, uhh… I might or might have not told my mother that I have a boyfriend who I’m bringing home for Christmas. And that boyfriend was supposed to be Jonathan.”

“Wait, what?” he grimaces. “You’re dating Jonathan?”

“I’m not!” you growl rolling your eyes. “I just wanted him to pretend like we’re dating.”

“But… why exactly?”

Sighing sadly, you turn to stare out the window, the flickering lights of the city passing by you in a blur. You’ve never told anyone in details about what it was like to grow up with your sister. She was just always better than you. Prettier, more popular, she nailed everything in life. She was a cheerleader in high school and of course, prom queen, she’s been dating her boyfriend since the eleventh grade, she got into Columbia with scholarship and now she is working a perfect job, lives in a perfect house with the perfect man who’ll marry her soon.

You never blamed her. You couldn’t hold it against her that she had everything she wanted. It’s the way your family always treated the situation. You weren’t popular, didn’t get to be prom queen, hell you almost didn’t even go to prom because no one asked you out. You dropped out of college and started as an assistant in a law firm before you ventured over to celebrities. Two years ago you landed this spot next to Harry and you’re proud of what you accomplished, however your parents don’t feel quite the same. You never hear the end of it that you didn’t finish school, but Leila did, that your job is not the type they generally consider serious, but Leila’s is, or that you haven’t had a serious relationship in five years, unlike Leila… Nothing you do is good enough or just simply… enough.

You just wanted one Christmas when you’re not the disgrace of the family. Apparently, you wished for way too much.

“Doesn’t matter, Harry,” you mumble, shaking your head softly.

He remains silent and you’re convinced the topic is dropped, but when you reach the hotel and the two of you are heading up in the elevator, he breaks the silence and almost makes you faint.

“I could go home with you and pretend to be your boyfriend.” You turn to him with wide eyes, fully convinced that he is just pulling your leg, but he seems serious.

“Excuse me?”

“I could do it. Only if you haven’t told your parents that it’s Jonathan, because then we would have some problems with the change…” he muses.

“I-I didn’t tell them, but… Harry, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t.”

The elevator arrives and you’re quick to storm out heading to your room, but Harry catches up with you in a heartbeat.

“I totally can and I’m willing to do it, Y/N.”

“You can’t! They know you’re my boss!” you shush him, but he just rolls his eyes.

“So what? That doesn’t mean we can’t be a couple.” You ignore the way your heart skips a beat as Harry talks about the two of you as a couple. This is not exactly the setting you imagined it come up.

“Harry,” you sigh stopping in the middle of the hallway. “This is just… ridiculous, okay? The whole thing was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have even come up with it. I’ll just tell them the truth.”

“Well… if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Of course I know, I’m the one who puts your schedule together,” you scoff and he just grins at you before walking up to his room and disappearing inside.

Not even twenty-four hours later you’re sipping on your afternoon coffee in a different city, laptop in front of you on the small table of the hotel bar, going through loads of emails, making calls to all parts of the globe. You’ll head to the venue soon to check out how the stage building is going, it’s been your usual for months now, life on the road.

Your fingers are typing away fast on the keyboard when you spot the familiar figure approaching you from the corner of your eyes. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Harry, wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, a coffee in his hands as he lazily walks up to your table and takes a seat, inviting himself into your company.

“Have you thought about it?” he hums, stirring the black liquid as he stares out the window.

“I think about a million things a day, you have to be more specific,” you answer in a flat tone, eyes still glued to the screen.

It’s been the dynamic you built up. You like to be sarcastic, a bit rude to him but he always knows it’s just a game. It helps you keep a very fragile wall between the two of you so you don’t fall for him even more and at least you can do your job. Though Harry likes the bickering, even fuels it as much as he can, enjoying the little remarks and teasing.

“The Christmas thing,” he adds, taking a sip from the coffee, sliding lower in his chair.

“I have not,” you mumble, but it’s a total lie. It’s all you’ve been thinking about since he offered to be your fake boyfriend. You haven’t been able to wrap your mind around the absurdity of it: your boss, who you’re in love with, coming home with you for Christmas to pretend to be your fake boyfriend. This straight up sounds like the plot of a Netflix movie.

“Okay, then think now. Because I’ve thought and I came up with a few things that would convince you.”

“Harry, I’m working. My job doesn’t end when you run off the stage, alright?” you sigh, leaning back in your seat, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You’re just answering Jeff’s million emails, that can wait,” he says and simply shuts the laptop down, your eyes widening.

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

“I am, but what’s new?” he smirks at you, crossing one leg over the other. “So. I’m the perfect candidate to be your fake boyfriend, because I know everything about you. We’ve been practically living together, I know the way a boyfriend would know you.”

“Harry, can you just—“

“Second, I’ve met your mother and I totally charmed her, she would love me!”

“You’re giving yourself way too much credit, H,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, don’t tell me I wouldn’t make her swoon as your boyfriend!”

It’s hard to admit, but he is right. Your parents might not like your career choice, but they love Harry. They think he is the greatest person in the celebrity world and your mother even said that you should quit your job and just date him. As if that was so easy…

“Alright, third. I assume we would have to sleep in the same room so we would have to share a bed and we’ve done that before. Wouldn’t be a problem this time either.”

“Harry, how long did you spend thinking about these stuff?” you huff, your head rolling back as you let out a frustrated groan.

“Enough to make the perfect plan,” he smirks proudly. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun!”

“No, it’s not,” you shake your head right away. “You don’t know the shitshow that goes down on Christmas in our family.”

“It’s a shitshow everywhere, I can manage,” he shrugs.

“And how do you plan to explain to your mother that you won’t be home for Christmas on time?”

“Mum’s in quarantine, one of her girlfriends tested positive so now she is locked up as well. It ends after Christmas so we’re celebrating later.”

“I can’t believe you have an answer to everything,” you scoff in disbelief. “Why are you so desperate to do this?”

“Because I wanna help you! I can tell it’s something important to you and you do so much for me, I could finally do something for you! Just let me help!” he begs, running a hand through his hair and god, he looks way too good for your league. No one will believe you scored Harry Styles…

“I don’t…”

“Come on!” he groans in frustration. “It’s gonna be fun, we can spend some time together without any work loading on us. When was the last time we did that?”

“You took me out to dinner on my birthday,” you answer without a second thought, because you’re definitely keeping tabs on the times you spent alone with Harry.

“That’s right, but that’s been so long,” he whines. “I’ll be your best fake boyfriend, your family will fall in love with me and they are gonna finally get out of your hair about being single.”

“I never told you this is why I’m doing it,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Y/N, I know you,” he smiles at you softly. “You’ve complained to me several times how your parents just keep bugging you to get a boyfriend and your sister just got engaged. You don’t want to go home alone and listen to them dragging you down because Leila is getting married and you’re not.”

You never thought he paid attention, not this much at least. But it seems like Harry remembered everything you told him and it’s making your chest ache. It would be easier to keep your emotions out of the equation if only he wasn’t the greatest man alive, always so caring and thoughtful. You’re afraid that if you’ll pretend to be dating Harry your heart will get broken, even more than it already is. That’s why you’re so adamant about not accepting his offer.

“You’ll have someone to complain to all Christmas, I think that’s a great deal, Y/N,” he smirks at you, slurping up the rest of his black coffee.

Just as you’re about to answer him, your phone starts to ring and the words die on your tongue as you reach for the device.

“I have to take this,” you mumble. Harry nods and standing up he grabs his empty cup.

“Think about it some more,” he softly tells you, giving your shoulder a squeeze before walking away. You pay one last glance after him before turning back towards your phone and answering the call.

It’s the last show before everyone is heading home for the holidays. The tour dragged longer than it was planned at the beginning, more and more shows were added, because Harry just wants to give the people what they want. That’s how you ended up with the last show being so close to Christmas.

Harry is on stage now, talking to a fan whose sign just asked for dating advice, he is wearing a magenta suit, of course, no shirt underneath. His smile is beaming as he is talking about how they should never trust a man who forgets their birthday and you’ve always found it funny how wise he can get when he is definitely no expert in dating. After all, he is just about to pretend to be your boyfriend for the holidays, what kind of sane man agrees to do that?

Fixing your mask you step out to the arena to the secluded area where crew members can get a glimpse of the show. You stay close to the wall, watching him parade on the stage, another rainbow flag glued to his hands, just like about every night. There’s no doubt this is his element, the place where he is himself the most and you’ve always admired how open he can get with thousands of people around him.

It’s not a surprise you fell for him, how could you not? You hit it off instantly when you started working for him at the beginning, an odd but deep friendship forming between the two of you quite fast. Being vulnerable with Harry feels like second nature, he is a great listener and has a magic power to get you to trust him right away. One month into knowing him it felt like you’ve known him all your life.

And loved him all your life.

While you shared almost every detail of your life with him, he has seen you at your best and worst, bought you tampons in the middle of the night and held your hair as you threw up from food poisoning, there was one thing you could never tell him: how badly you fell in love with him.

You know you’ll never get to have him the way you want. It just wasn’t meant to be, no matter how painful it is to accept it. But as you watch him sing his heart out on stage, the ache to get closer to him just grows and you’re desperate to get just a tiny slice of him.

That’s when you make up your mind that you’ll let him go home with you and pretend to be your boyfriend. Because if that’s the only way you can have him… you’re gonna take it.

It’s an emotional moment as Harry leaves the stage for the last time, he is throwing kisses everywhere, bowing and waving around before he runs behind the curtains where you’re already waiting for him.

“Great job,” you pat him on the back, the two of you heading to his dressing room.

“Thanks. Gonna miss this a lot,” he sighs, chest still heaving as he is trying to catch his breath. “When are you leaving tomorrow?” he asks, pushing the door to his dressing room open and you follow him inside, closing it behind so it’s just the two of you. He gets rid of the mask as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, his suspenders already hanging from his waist.

“You mean… when are we leaving?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He freezes and then his head snaps around to look at you, a cheesy grin already growing on his lips. “I thought about what you said and… if you’re still up for it, I would appreciate it if you came home with me to… pretend to be my boyfriend. God, this sounds so stupid,” you groan shaking your head.

“Oh, you won’t regret it, Y/N,” he chuckles and walking closer he yanks you into his arms, hugging you tight, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

“Yeah,” you mumble against his shoulder. “I really hope so.”

“Would you relax? You definitely don’t look like you’re happy to bring your boyfriend home.”

Harry places a hand over your bouncing knee as he pulls up to your parents’ house, your anxiety rising high when it comes into your vision. It’s decorated exactly the same as every year, your mother never buys new decorations, not even when they start to look rusty and worn down.

You shoot Harry an awfully fake smile, but he just chuckles as he places his hand back at the wheel.

“I will not take the blame for any emotional or mental trauma you might suffer from while you’re here, alright?” you remind him again.

“Yup, you want me to sign a contract?” he teases you smirking and you just smack his chest playfully.

He pulls up to the driveway and you see the curtains move in the window so it’s just a matter of seconds for your mother to burst out the front door and attack the two of you. You still haven’t told them who your alleged boyfriend is and she’ll probably flip when she realizes that it’s Harry.

“Get ready, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you get out of the car and the front door flies open just as you expected.

“Finally!” your mom runs out, hands in the air as she approaches the two of you. You walk around the car, joining Harry by the driver’s side, his arm coming to curl around your shoulders to pull you to his side and you swallow hard, plastering a smile on your face, watching your mother finally realize who you’ve just brought home. She stops, mouth hangs open, covering it with her hands as she stares and you and Harry with wide eyes, while the man on your side is just smiling at her sweetly, always the charmer.

“Oh my God! Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?!” she screeches before taking the rest of the way to you, pulling you into a hug.

“Don’t freak out, okay? I wanted it to be a surprise,” you grit through your teeth as you hug her back before she turns to Harry, arms wrapping around him as well.

“I surely am surprised! Oh my, I was not expecting you, son!” she cheers, patting Harry’s dimply cheeks.

“It’s so nice to see you again Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, just call me Martha!”

“Alright,” Harry chuckles, his hand coming to rest on your back. “Hope you don’t mind Y/N didn’t tell you about me, but we’ve been keeping it low.”

“Oh, I understand, though I’m a bit hurt you thought I wouldn’t keep my mouth about it!” she jokes. “But let’s forget about it, come on in! Don’t freeze out here. I’ve just made hot chocolate. Leila and Stanley will be here in a bit too, they are on their way already.”

Unloading your stuff from the car you head inside, your dad coming from the kitchen with a steaming mug in his hand when he spots the two of you, his eyebrows shooting up upon seeing Harry with you.

“You’re dating your boss?” he asks right away, no filter on him at all.

“Dad!” you roll your eyes at him, Harry just grinning next to you.

“What? Is he not your boss?”

“He is, but… it’s not like that, alright? We don’t work in an office or something like that.”

“That I know,” he mumbles and you bite your tongue not to comment on his words. “Well, welcome back, Harry.”

He extends his hands for your boyfriend and he takes it with a soft smile.

“Nice to see you again. And I know this might be a bit weird, but I assure you that we do everything we can to keep our relationship separated from work. It’s been going well.”

“I’m not one to judge,” your dad shrugs. “Worked with your mother when we got together,” he smirks, patting Harry’s shoulder and you let out a long breath. This could have gone better, but it’s not as disastrous as you’ve imagined it. Nice start.

The two of you bring your bags up to your old room, having a few moments to yourself as you close the door saying you’ll unpack.

“This went well, right?” Harry hum, sitting down to the edge of your bed and you try to ignore how weird it is to see him in your old room, the one you grew up in.

“It was fine. But I think Leila will be more skeptical than them, so we gotta convince her.”

“No problem,” he smirks confidently.

Not too much later you hear the front door open and close downstairs, your sister’s voice hitting your ear as she and her fiancé are welcoming your parents. You take a deep breath, mentally bracing yourself for the meeting.

“Okay, come on. Let’s say hi to them,” you say Harry, who’s been lying across the bed flipping through your high school yearbook until now. Shutting the book closed he jumps to his feet and follows you out of the room.

You spot Leila at the bottom of the stairs, Stanley right behind her and they look just the same as you remembered them.

“Hey! There you are!” she greets you with a bright smile when she sees you walking down the stairs, Harry trailing behind you. “And Harry! Hi!”

She doesn’t seem surprised to see Harry and the way they hug got you suspicious. Leila doesn’t seem fazed at all that Harry is the one she is seeing by your side.

“So, um… I know I didn’t tell you about it, but Harry is… the one I’m dating.” you explain, the words feel strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

“That’s great!” she beams, but no trace of surprise is seen on her face still. Something is off. “Oh, let me put the tiramisu into the fridge,” she rushes off, Stanley following her behind with their bags as you turn to face Harry.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“What do you mean?” he asks with an innocent look.

“Leila doesn’t seem surprised to see you, you know anything about that?”

“That’s because I told her,” he answers as if it was the most usual thing ever, but you don’t share his opinion.

“What do you mean you told her?”

“I talked to her and told her that I’m the one you’re dating and you’re bringing me home for Christmas.”

“What the fuck?! When did that happen? And why are you talking to my sister?!”

It seems like you’re the only one who is shocked by the information, Harry doesn’t seem too shaken up by any of it. If anything, he is looking at you like you’re crazy.

“Talked to her on the phone yesterday. Why is that so shocking to you?”

“Because I didn’t know you were just casually making calls to my sister!”

“You talk to my sister all the time.”

“But that’s different! I’m your assistant, I need to keep in touch with the people around you.”

“I don’t think gossiping with my sister is your job,” Harry smirks at you. “I’ve kept in touch with your sister since I met her last year. Thought I would let her know that you’re bringing me.”

“And do you think she believed that we’re dating?” you nervously ask, glancing towards the kitchen where you can see Leila already arguing about something with your mom. When you look back at Harry he seems a little hesitant, but it disappears from his eyes pretty quickly.

“Don’t worry, she didn’t even question it. Come on, let’s mingle a little.” He puts a hand to your back, guiding you after the rest of your family, though you’re not quite in the mood to put up an act for now. However you don’t have much of a choice.

Somehow, you manage to survive the first day at home. Harry was right, he charmed the shit out of your mother and by the time dinner was over you were sure she was more in love with him than you. Your dad seemed a little skeptical at first, but it didn’t take long for Harry to warm him up and they sat down for dinner like old pals. Everyone seems to love Harry and the fact that you’re dating him.

It’s a shame it’s all just one big lie.

Wrapping yourself up in a thick blanket you grab your tea from the kitchen counter and head out to the sunroom to join Leila, Stanley and Harry for a late night chat. Your parents are already out, your mom is gonna be up by six probably in the morning to start everything for the big family gathering tomorrow, so it’s just the four of you.

It’s too cold to sit on the porch, that’s why you decided to take the evening to the sunroom where your mom keeps most of her precious plants. Arriving you see that you’re the only one drinking tea, an open bottle of wine sits on the table, Everyone nursing a glass of the red liquid as you hold your steaming mug in your hands, sitting down next to Harry. He’s been drinking a bit throughout the evening, though he is not drunk, and you know how touchy he can get with some alcohol in his system, but you still get surprised when he curls an arm around your shoulders and tugs you to his side.

“Apple and cinnamon?” he asks with a lazy smile, sniffing the air that smells from your tea.

“Yeah. You want to try?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper. You haven’t been able to get used to the little touches and looks you’ve been getting from Harry. You keep telling yourself not to fall too comfortable into this role, because it’s all fake, but it’s hard to draw the lines.

“No, I’m good, but thank you,” he smiles at you, taking a sip from his own drink.

“Oh my God, you two are the cutest,” Leila sighs and you look at her, meeting her dreamy eyes as she sits cuddled up to Stan’s side. “You haven’t told us how it happened, I wanna hear the story!”

You purse your lips, looking up at Harry you share a glance and he is the one speaking up first.

“It just… kinda happened. I slowly grew some balls and asked her out one day.”

“So you were always into her?” Stan asks.

“Since day one,” he answers, but his eyes are locked on yours and the damn butterflies in your stomach are going crazy. It’s really hard to remind yourself that it’s all just an act, especially when his fingers are delicately dancing on your arm and shoulder.

“And how did you ask her out? Did you just blurt it out or did you plan it?” Leila asks in excitement.

Harry’s eyes shift to his drink as he runs his tongue across his lips, probably coming up with a story he can feed them and you wonder what he’ll say.

“It was at the beginning of tour, just a few shows into it, in Dallas to be precise. She was in my room before the night of the show, going over my schedule for the next few weeks and I was trying to decide if I wanted to shave or not. We had some wine, just chilling and taking it slow,” he starts and you realize that this evening actually happened, you still remember it.

“She was lying on my bed on her stomach, typing so fast on her phone, I wondered how her thumbs haven’t fallen off,” he chuckles and you can’t push down a smile either. “Maybe it was the alcohol or I just finally came around and figured out what I want in life, but I sat down, took her phone and she whined, but I just stared at her smiling and… asked her to have dinner with me in the next city. Then she asked if I wanted her to reserve a table and if anyone else was coming, but I told her that it was just gonna be the two of us, because it’s gonna be our first date.”

Your lips part and your chest aches as your eyes are glued to his. He described that evening perfectly, everything happened like that except he never asked you out. When he grabbed your phone from you, he just stared at you as you whined and asked for it back and he cocked his head to the side before handing it back to you at last, walking back into the bathroom.

“That sounds just like Y/N, thinking that it’s a group thing,” Leila chuckles, snapping you back from your thoughts, you definitely got lost in the memory and the way Harry is staring at you right now.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckle nervously, bringing your mug to your lips to busy yourself with something, but you were too fast with that and the hot drink burns your tongue.

“I kind of always knew you two would end up together,” Leila muses and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

“Sure you did,” you mumble to yourself, religiously avoiding to look at Harry for the rest of the evening.

You head up to your rooms about an hour later when the wine has run out and you’ve been yawning for a while. Leila and Stanley take her old room while you retreat into yours, Harry following behind and for a hot minute you forgot that you have to sleep in the same bed, but reality comes crashing down on you when he closes the door and it’s just the two of you after being surrounded by your family all day.

You use the bathroom first while Harry lies in bed, scrolling on his phone before it’s his turn. You’ve never been more anxious to sleep next to him, this whole day just turned your world upside down and now you have to share a bed with him, even though it’s not the first time. He has crashed in your hotel room several times not just on this tour but on several trips you’ve taken around the globe since you’ve started working for him.

Placing your rings to the nightstand you cocoon on your side of the bed, pulling the covers up to your ears as you lie on your side, facing the wall. The bathroom door opens and you listen to Harry fumbling around in the room until the mattress dips behind you and he makes himself comfortable on his side. Just when you think he’s gonna go to sleep without a word he speaks up.

“Are you mad at me?”

Turning around you give him a puzzled look.

“Why would I be?” you ask, your heart beating like crazy.

“Because you’ve been so quiet since Leila asked how we got together. Did I say something wrong?”

The two of you are lying now facing each other, your hands tucked under your head as you take just a split second to adorn his handsome face squished into your pillow. You wonder why everyone believed so easily that you’re a couple when he is clearly way out of your league.

“I’ve been just tired. My mother can be a bit too much all at once,” you say, forcing out a tiny smile.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” he hums nodding into the pillow. “Tomorrow is the big day? Your whole family is coming over?”

“Yeah. Grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, the whole fam,” you chuckle softly, a smile tugging on his lips too.

“Alright, I’ll switch into full boyfriend mode.”

“Was it not that today?” you tease, making him chuckle.

“Kinda, but I can put some extra into it.”

“No need, you already charmed everyone.”

“Everyone? You included?” he asks teasingly, no clue how on spot that question was.

“Don’t get too cocky,” you warn him, trying to mask your real emotions.

“Okay, I’ll take it as a yes,” he grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry,” you sigh, turning back around, your heart pounding in your chest and you can only hope he can’t hear it in the silence.

The house is packed and it’s not even nine am. You didn’t joke when you told Harry that it’s gonna be a shitshow. Your mom has three sisters, each of them at least two kids, but Aunt Carol spent her twenties popping babies out one after the other, gifting you with five cousins alone, so your home would be full if only they came over, but that’s not an option. You’re trying to fetch yourself a coffee, but your cousin Annabelle’s twin daughters have been running in circles in the kitchen, making you trip over them almost three times in the past thirty seconds. Today is going to be way too long and tiring.

If it wasn’t enough, the morning was kind of awkward.

Your bed is not the same size as the ones you’ve shared in hotels before, so you and Harry ended up tangled in each other sometime in the night and when you opened your eyes you were met with his chest, his arms draped over your figure as you were hugging his waist under the covers. You were so shocked, for a minute you didn’t even know what to do, then he woke up too, hugged you even tighter for a second before he realized the position you were in.

It was a bunch of sorry and no worries and awkward fumbling and mumbling before you jumped out of the bed and locked yourself up in the bathroom. You never plan to talk about it again, but it’ll be stuck in your head probably forever.

“Good morning!” Harry greets everyone walking into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of light washed jeans and a simple red sweater. He looks so cozy, you almost want to bury your face in his chest, but you just stare back at him, stirring your coffee, not even realizing that you should introduce him to the people he hasn’t met. Luckily, your mother takes the situation into her own hands.

“Isn’t it great that Y/N finally has a boyfriend?” your mom enthuses to your aunts and you just roll your eyes, sipping on your coffee. “I was starting to get worried that she’ll be alone forever!”

“Mom, I’m only twenty-six. It’s not like I was behind or something,” you scoff at her.

“You haven’t had a boyfriend in so long, we all thought you’d just given up to even look!” she laughs as if she just told the joke of the year, but you’re not laughing at all.

“I’ve been busy, I’ve been working a lot to get here in my career. I’m holding two positions on a sold out tour, that doesn’t leave much time to look.”

“One of those positions is an assistant, honey. Those are never too hard, I assume,” she smiles innocently and you’re quite close to throw the mug at the wall screaming. But before you could react, Harry steps over to you, pulling you in front of him, his arms snaking around your waist from behind as he keeps you tight to his chest.

“Well, it’s not,” he speaks up calmly. “I usually work on at least three projects at the same time and Y/N is the person who keeps it all together. If it wasn’t for her, my career would be literally over. And beside all that, she is tour manager, she stays in contact with about a hundred people on the daily basis and she makes sure everything goes as smooth as possible. I can assure you that Y/N works harder than anyone and I’m so grateful for her, every day.”

Everyone in the room is stunned from Harry’s little speech and you have to blink a few times before you can even move. Harry just smiles around before his eyes fall on you and he simply kisses your cheek before his arms fall from around your waist and he moves to pour himself some coffee.

Your mom just mumbles something that resembles a sorry before she is called away, your aunts leaving as well so it’s just you and Harry left in the kitchen for a few minutes.

“Hey,” you softly say, standing next to him as he is sitting at the kitchen island. “Thanks for… standing up for me.”

“Just told them the truth,” he smiles at you, his hand finding yours on the counter, squeezing it gently. “I hope you do know that you’re amazing at what you do, keeping everything together. I’m sorry your mom doesn’t see how huge it is.”

“Nothing is serious to her other than being a lawyer or a doctor,” you scoff rolling your eyes.

“She has pretty high standards,” he chuckles softly. “But if that makes a change… I’m really proud of you, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you breathe out. If only he knew how much that means to you…

Somehow you survive the first part of the day without breaking down fully and it has a lot to do with Harry on your side. Every time one of your aunts or your mom or one of your nosy cousins comments on something about you, he swoops right in and not only stands up for you, but he always makes sure to keep you grounded and calm, touching you in any way he could. A hand on your arm or back, sweet and tiny glances and smiles, an arm curled around your shoulders or waist, he’s been really good at this pretending and if you didn’t know better you’d think that he is doing all of this for real.

Sometime after lunch you get caught up in a raging game of Scrabble and you lose track of Harry. When Uncle Thomas wins the third round, using words you all think are made up but he proves over and over again that they aren’t, you leave the table to look for Harry and make sure your family hasn’t wrecked him.

Walking upstairs you hear his voice coming from your room and as you get closer you realize that he is not alone, Leila is in there with him. As you appear at the door their conversation comes to an abrupt stop and Harry jumps to his feet as if he was just caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Hey, everything alright in here?” you ask, eyes switching between the two of them.

“Of course, we just had a little talk,” Leila smiles at you sweetly, standing up from the edge of the bed. You catch them share a look and your stomach drops, something is going on, but you have no idea what it is and it seems like they are keen to keep it away from you. In the matter of just a few seconds, your anxiety and darkest thoughts take over your mind and you come to the worst possible conclusion.

What if Harry is into your sister? He kept in touch with her all this time and now they are sneaking away from the rest of the family, this looks awfully upsetting, but you can’t let your mask fall.

“Hey, do you maybe want to take a walk?” Harry asks stepping closer to you, but this one time you want to keep some distance between the two of you.

“Um, I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Just… I think I’m gonna take a quick nap, if that’s alright,” you mumble.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Leila asks, worry lacing through her voice and you just nod, forcing out a smile.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

She leaves so you can have some peace and you get to bed, pulling the covers over yourself, realizing that Harry is still in the room. He comes to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, brushing your hair out of your hair with a soft touch and it churns your stomach.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’ll just rest a bit. I promise I’ll be fine,” you smile at him and he doesn’t seem convinced, but nods anyway and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You’ve done this before, got yourself over the fact that you’ll never have a chance at Harry. But this time it hurts even more, because you got a glimpse of what it would be like if he was yours and now your heart is breaking more than ever.

An hour later when you wake up you feel a tad bit better or at least good enough to get back to pretending. While you were out, Harry befriended the younger ones in the house and as you get downstairs you find him in the living room, focused on a coloring book, all the other kids doing the same thing around the coffee table. When he spots you, he abandons his work and he is quick to get to his feet and rush over to you.

“Hey, how are you feeling? Any better?” His hand moves to check your forehead in case you have a fever, but physically you’re alright.

“Yeah, I’m better,” you smile at him and he pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

For some reason, Harry doesn’t leave your side from that moment. He is just always around you, watching you like a hawk.

Dinner finally comes and you all gather around the table, naturally, you sit next to Harry and he keeps putting an arm onto the back of your chair as you both try to keep up with the conversation at the table.

“So when are you guys getting married?” You hear your cousin, Penelope ask and you don’t even look up, assuming the question was addressed to your sister, but the silence grabs your attention and when you raise your gaze you realize that she asked you.

“I’m sorry, what?” you chuckle nervously. “We’ve been dating for just a few months, P. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Come on, I’m sure you want to tie this dude down as fast as possible!” she jokes, more people joining in on the laughing while you just grit your teeth. Harry’s hand moves to your knee under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze before handling the situation.

“We’re not in a rush. Got all the time in the world, right, love?”

The way he called you love has turned you into jelly and you can barely manage to hum an answer as he smiles at you warmly. God, you’re so gone for the man, it’s ridiculous.

“Y/N, would you please bring in the tiramisu from the fridge?” your mother asks and you nod, standing from the table, but Harry moves with you at the same time.

“Let me help.”

You don’t protest, just let him follow you into the kitchen, grabbing the two massive boxes filled with the dessert before heading back, but right as you cross the archway of the kitchen your grandma speaks up.

“Hold on! Stop right there!”

You freeze, Harry right beside you as you stare back at your grandma with a puzzled look, but she just smirks back at you and it’s giving you a sinister feeling.

“Look up, darling!” she tells you and you do just that, finding a mistletoe hanging right above you, your stomach dropping instantly.

“Grandma, come on!” you groan, anxiety rising in your gut.

“I’m not the one making the rules!” she chuckles sweetly and it’s infuriating that you still can’t be mad at her, when she is forcing you into your most awkward situation ever. You dare to glance at Harry just for a second, seeing him with a blank expression, nothing can be read from his face.

“It’s just a silly thing, we’re not gonna…”

“If it’s just a silly thing, then get over with it and you can come back to the table!” she pushes and you have to bite into your bottom lip to stop yourself from a remark.

This is it. This is the moment where you’ll just die from embarrassment, because you’re sure Harry will not go through with it, that would be way over the lines and also, it would be stupid of you to think he would ever be okay with it. So you start thinking about a way to get out of this, but you don’t get far.

Because the next second, Harry’s hand cups your face, he turns your head, angling your head for him before his lips press onto yours.

A round of gasps and exciting murmuring washes over the room, but you shut it all out, only focusing on how Harry’s lips are gently sucking on your bottom lip, kissing you for the first time ever. It doesn’t end in just a few seconds, because when his lips let go of yours he goes right back again, kissing you a little more confidently and this time you return it as well, deepening it just a tiny bit. Your free hand moves up his chest to the base of his neck as you try to wrap your head around what’s truly happening, though it surely feels like a dream. One you’ve already had several times, but none of them were as good as this one.

“Get a room!” one of your cousins laughs, her voice bringing you back to reality, so you pull back, shock plastered all over your face and Harry seems to be mirroring the expression as he stares back at you. But a moment later you force a smile on your face, not wanting to draw any attention.

The two of you walk back to the table, place the tiramisu to the two ends and take your previous seats as the conversation carries on while you sit there in total disbelief that you just kissed Harry under a damn mistletoe.

Well, technically he kissed you and that just makes you even more anxious, not knowing what went down in his head before he made the decision. You have absolutely no idea how you’re gonna move on from this.

Later, when most of your family has left, only those are still around who are spending the night, some of you move to the sunroom again with some wine and leftover for the hungry men. It’s Leila, Stan, Harry and you, two of your cousins, one of your uncles and his wife occupying the beat-up couches your mom has moved to the room a few years ago. This time you’re having some of that wine as well, the conversation is going well and since there’s not that much space, you’re pushed up against Harry’s side while he has an arm curled around your shoulders. Ever since that kiss under the mistletoe something has changed, you can feel it in not just him but yourself too, but you don’t know yet what it really is and you’re a bit scared to face him alone in bed tonight. But for now, you’re just enjoying having him close to you.

Excusing yourself you take a quick trip to the bathroom, fixing your smudged mascara in the mirror before heading back. Just as you near the room you stop, seeing Harry and Leila in a seemingly confidential conversation in there, they are leant closer, pulling themselves a bit away from the rest of the group and your throat closes up at the sight of them. After the kiss you were way too busy to think about what you suspected before about Harry and Leila, but now it hits you like a train.

You should have expected it, Leila was always better than you in every possible way, you were always just a shadow of what she was. When you were a senior and she was a freshman in high school, you remember some of the boys in your class coming up to you, asking if you could introduce them to her. She was always the first one men noticed, the stunning and the pretty sister out of the two of you, why would it have been different with Harry?

With trembling lips you turn around and decide to take a few more minutes alone before returning. Making your way into the empty living room you sit down in the dark to the couch, the only light source is the Christmas tree in the corner, painting the room in a red and yellow hue. You pull your knees up to your chest and try your best not to let the tears spill out of your eyes, but it’s hard to control your emotions after everything that happened in the past two days.

You get sucked into your own dark thoughts and doubts so much that you don’t even hear someone else coming in.

“Y/N?” Your head snaps up at the sound of Harry’s voice and you spot him slowly approaching you on the couch with a worried look on his face. “What are you doing here alone?” he softly asks, sitting down next to you.

“Yeah, I just… I needed a minute. Why did you come inside?”

“Because you’ve been gone for like fifteen minutes, I was worried about you. Is everything alright?” Reaching out his hand falls on your knee and he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if he is saying that he is here and listening.

“Sure. I’ll be out in a second. You just… go back and enjoy the evening, don’t worry about me.”

“Y/N, I always worry about you and you seemed a little shaken up all day.”

“Nothing is wrong, Harry. Just go back, Leila must be looking for you.”

You couldn’t help the petty, bitter comment and you can tell that it took him by surprise as well. But it’s been bottling up inside you all day and it slipped your mouth.

“Why would she?”

“Harry, I’m not blind,” you chuckle bitterly. “It’s not a surprise you like her, but I hope you know she is a risky business since she is engaged.”

“Excuse me?” he huffs in disbelief. “Are you implying that I’m into your sister?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” you mumble under your breath. “You kept in touch with her, talked to her on the phone even before we came here… And when I found the two of you in my room earlier? That seemed pretty intimate.” Your cheeks are burning, but hopefully the dim lighting is hiding your embarrassment that you even have to talk about it.

“That’s… You got the whole thing wrong, Y/N, let me explain.”

“You don’t need to explain your feelings for her, I get it, I’m used to it, it’s totally fine.”

“Would you shut up for a minute and let me talk?” he laughs amused and you finally close your mouth, giving him the chance to talk. “I did keep in touch with Leila but not to the extent you think and most of the time she was just asking if you were doing alright because you haven’t answered her texts. I called her before coming here because it felt odd to come here without telling here, that’s all. Sure, I like her, she is a nice girl but… I assure you that I have no feelings for her or whatsoever. When you caught us in your room…”

He takes a deep breath, like he is getting ready for some kind of announcement and you’re holding your breath, staring back at him intently.

“She figured out that we are not dating.”

“What?” you ask, all blood rushing out of your face.

“Yeah, she saw right through us. But she also saw through me,” he admits clearing his throat. “She wanted to talk to me because… okay, I’ll just say it. She asked if I’m into you, because it seems like that and I told her that I am.”

Your stomach drops, eyes widen and your lips part at his words and it feels like you’ve just entered a parallel universe, because there’s no way Harry just admitted that he is into you.

“I told her that I’ve been in love with you for probably as long as I’ve known you and she urged me to tell you, because she thinks you feel the same way. Then you came up and I suggested to go on a walk because I wanted to tell you, but you didn’t feel good, so I just… dropped it.”

He rubs his face in his hands, letting out a long sigh as he leans back and stares in front of him for a moment before he continues.

“Then that kiss happened at dinner…” A tiny smile tugs on his lips and your heart is fluttering in your chest. “That wasn’t how I imagined our first kiss happening, forced by your grandma in front of your whole family, but… It didn’t matter, I was seeing stars, Y/N. Fucking stars and it was just a kiss!” He lets out an amused chuckle and you can’t help but smile as you listen to him intently, a feeling in the back of your mind still bugging you that it’s just a fever dream. “Leila has been bugging me to tell you all day, but I just couldn’t find the right moment and this is not that either I’m pretty sure about that, but…” He turns to you and reaching out he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t care anymore.”

There’s a few seconds of silence of the two of you just staring at each other, letting everything sink in and you have no idea what to do or say next.

“I literally just admitted to you that I’m in love with you and you haven’t said a word, Y/N. I’m starting to worry,” Harry speaks up chuckling and you can’t help the grin plastering across your face.

“I think that my jealousy scene was pretty obvious,” you mumble back and Harry reaches out, cupping your face in his palm, making you melt into his touch.

“I can’t believe you thought I was into your sister who is engaged!” he chuckles and you shoot him a narrow-eyed look.

“Hey! You acted suspicious! And you can’t blame me, my sister always came before me in everything.”

“Not for me,” he hums and you could cry from his words as he scoots closer, his hands grabbing a hold of your legs as he pulls them across his lap, his palms resting on your thighs. “You’ve always been my number one.”

“Always?” you ask in a whisper, your faces getting closer with each passing second and your hands find their way to the base of his neck, your noses bumping against each other.

“From day one, I told you,” he smirks at you cheekily. “Are you gonna say something to my confession or you’ll leave me hanging?”

“Your ego could use some humbling,” you tease him, though your heart is about to jump out of your ribcage.

“Not the time for that, baby,” he warns you playfully before he finally leans in, closing the distance between your lips, kissing you for the second time today.

It’s similar to the one you shared during dinner, but somehow different. There’s no anxiety and guessing about what it means or how the other is perceiving it, because it’s clearer than daylight.

Your hands cup his cheeks and he grasps your waist, pulling and positioning you until you’re straddling his lap and you can’t help the moan that slips through your lips, right into his mouth when your chest presses up against his. His kisses are slow but demanding and deep, he is taking his time savoring the moment, doing everything he couldn’t when your family was watching you with curious eyes earlier.

His lips move softly against yours, sucking and tugging on yours, tongues and teeth clashing, it’s a bit messy, but you don’t mind it. It’s perfect.

“Where did they—Oh!” Leila’s voice breaks the moment as she walks in, quickly stopping when she sees the two of you tangled up on the couch. You pull back, trying to pretend like you weren’t just making out on the couch like teenagers.

“Hi Leila,” Harry smirks as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, still sitting on his lap.

“Didn’t mean to disturb the lovebirds,” she grins widely, knowing exactly what she just walked into. “I wasn’t even here!” she calls out, going back to the sunroom.

“I think we got busted,” Harry murmurs, his fingers carding through your hair.

“We did. And she’ll tease me about it forever!” you groan, lifting your head. “We’ll never live this down, getting together after pretending to be dating.”

“Don’t care, would do it all over again,” he smirks pleased, eyes wandering down to your lips over and over again.

“This feels like a shitty Netflix Christmas movie,” you chuckle and leaning closer you wrap your arms around his neck, pecking his lips shortly.

“Shitty?” he gasps dramatically. “You’re talking about our relationship!”

“We have one?” you tease him.

“Of course,” he grins back. “Your last one.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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bloodandrunes · 3 years

Text

Blood and Runes

Demo | Forum Page | Discord

Updated: January 11th | Next update: TBD

Introduction:

Hello, all! This is my first WIP ever, and I'm very excited to be writing it! I'll do my best to iron through any typos and/or bugs before I post an update, but if anyone notices anything off, please let me know!

Blood and Runes:

As I stated above, Blood and Runes is my first interactive fiction game ever.

In it, you play as a member of the King’s Order, an elite society of mages who serve as his assassins, diplomats, generals and more.

You live comfortably – luxuriously, even – but not all is well in the world.

A gluttonous upper class; a starving peasant class; a resentful merchant class; a hated mage class.

In the Kingdom of Reian, corruption runs rampant, tensions are rising and revolution is coming. And you must choose a side.

Features:

- Play as a man or a woman.

- Choose between seven romance options: your partner in crime; your commanding officer; a princess trapped in her gilded cage; a revolutionary merchant with whom you have been tasked with killing; a hedonistic lordling who may be more than he seems; an ambitious tycoon who protects her own; and an underestimated queen, who has steel beneath all her gentleness.

- Enjoy a story influenced by the choices you make.

- Choose between the great factions of the realm.

All updates will be posted on this blog, including ones about progress : )

I am totally okay with scenario asks about the ROs, questions about world-building, and so on.

Thank you for checking out the blog! The ROs will be listed beneath the cut.

Aariz (M21) – The Arbitrary Assassin:

One of your two childhood best friends, Aariz has been by your side for as long as you remember. Considered to be a magical prodigy, he is arrogant and vain with a penchant for apathy, but he loves you fiercely and is loyal to those he deems worthy. Can you ensure that you will not lead him to his death?

(Aariz has an optional poly route with Dalia)

Aariz is tall and wiry with loose, light brown shoulder-length curls, deep bronze skin and brown, almond-shaped eyes. He has a crooked nose from where Dalia broke it once. A large part of his skin is decorated by rune markings. His right arm, metal from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, is a prosthetic. Aariz loves jewelry and will often adorn himself in earrings, necklaces and bracelets.

Dalia (F25) – The Dutiful Officer:

The other of your childhood best friends, your memories are filled with Dalia. She has risen quickly through the ranks of the King’s Order, and she is considered to be a rising star. But ever since her promotion, she has been distant to both you and Aariz; almost cold. Can you worm your way back into her now hardened heart?

(Dalia has an optional poly route with Aariz)

Dalia is short and muscular. She has dark umber skin, high cheekbones and a full mouth. She has heterochromia, with one azure blue eye and one light gray eye. Her kinky black hair, which she usually ties back, falls to her shoulders in tight coils. A multitude of scars of scars race across her body, each one carrying with it a memory.

Adys de Resham (M22) – The Wastrel Lord:

Adys de Resham is the only son of Duke Malic de Resham, the second most powerful man in Reian, and his only child by his second wife, Duchess Serala de Lyn. He is a hedonist and a fop, a drunkard and a stain on his house. But beneath his fool’s act, when he thinks no one is looking, his dazed expression grows sharper, his gaze more aware. There is, perhaps, more to this spoilt lordling than meets the eye. Can you unravel the layers to him?

(Adys can only be romanced by male MCs)

Adys is a man of average height and possesses an average build. He has tawny skin and dark brown curls which fall to brush against the line of his clean shaven jaw. His face is round and heart-shaped and he is seldom seen without his cane, which he leans on often now ever since his injury five years ago.

Ralys de Amars (F20) – The Powerless Princess:

The King of Reian has no sons, and as his eldest legitimate daughter, Ralys is his heir. Under the patriarchal structure of her father’s realm, her wings have been clipped and she has been isolated from power all her life, trapped in a gilded cage of luxury. But Ralys has ambitions, and she does not mean to stay as powerless as she is. Can you protect her from both outside threats and herself as she flirts with treason?

Ralys is around average height for a woman with copper skin, wavy, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. She has a heart-shaped face and a curvaceous build. There is one mole at the base of her throat and an identical one beneath her right eye.

Idar Melios (M31) – The Merchant Prince:

The head of one of the most powerful guilds in the kingdom, Idar is extremely wealthy, extremely influential and extremely determined. His radical leanings have brought him the attention of the king, and you, as a member of his order, have been tasked with killing him. Can you find it within yourself to carry through with it, or will his revolutionary ideology catch your attention?

Idar is tall and muscular with olive skin, wavy black hair and soulful brown eyes. His body, including his face, is littered with scars. He has high cheekbones and a long, straight nose. His features are roguish and chiseled. He likes to dress in fashionable but practical clothing.

Zara Esyn (F21) – The Lady Tycoon:

The daughter of a powerful merchant family and wed to Duke Malic de Resham’s only son and heir, Zara wields political importance as well as financial importance, holding in her hands a level of influence rarely seen from women in Reian. Bold, proud and fiercely intelligent, she has been educated in finances, the lifesblood of kingdoms, her entire life. She protects the interests of her and hers and no one else. Can you become close enough to her to say you are among their number?

(Zara can only be romanced by female MCs)

Zara is tall and slender with golden-brown skin, honey-brown hair that falls to her shoulder blades in messy curls when she lets it down, and deep emerald eyes. The angles of her face are too sharp to be beautiful, all cutting cheekbones and strong jawline and aquiline nose. Often she keeps her hair in a stylish updo, leaving a few strands to curl at her temples and ears.

Arassa de Tibrem -- The Fragile Flower: Beloved by the nobility and common people alike, Arassa is the favorite wife of King Remys IX of Reian. Well connected, she holds considerable influence across Reian, not just in her husband's court. Still, sickly and frail, she is frequently underestimated by almost everyone, even those who claim to love her. But there is steel to her, more than anyone could ever guess. Will you be the one to discover it?

Arassa is thin and of average height. She has fair skin, deep red hair and pale green eyes. She possesses a round face and several dimples that reveal themselves when she smiles. A long, uneven scar runs from the inside of her right thigh down to her knee.

#interactive fiction #Blood and Runes #Blood and Runes IF #demo #hosted games #choice of games #wip intro #introduction

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

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my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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misfit-fics · 3 years

Text

Demon Rehab For Dummies

Summary: (Y/N) started seeing seven demons when she was 10. Through the years they all disappeared, all but one. Namjoon. A demon who has not so creepily, creepily, very creepily been in love with her for years.

Genre: fluff, crack, extremely minimal angst, idiots to lovers, romantic-comedy

Word count: 7384

Rating: Teen

Warnings: mentions of suggestive & kinky themes, a handful of cursing, a story with a plot but not doesn’t exactly have a plot, a stubborn (Y/N) who dismisses love confessions & genuine flirting, an unspoken confession

A/N: Hey! we're back, it's been a while. We're starting school in a while but it will be gamble if we'll be more active or not. Well... we ARE active but just not posting? Yeah, you know what I mean. This has been sitting in our drafts for a while now and we're posting it now... although it's pretty unedited, feel free to address any oopsies. Hope who ever finds this enjoys reading!

At the ripe young age of ten (Y/N) began seeing seven men. Which- would’ve (should’ve) freaked any kid out but you know (Y/N) is just kinda quirky like that so she didn't really mind much. The men were nice and played with her anyway, and the only weird thing was that sometimes they would bring her dead birds.

At age eleven (Y/N) noticed that one of the men was missing.It didn’t affect her much except for the fact that this particular one would help her find things and she’d lost almost all of her socks since he disappeared. Not to mention the increase of bug bites after he left. The darn things seemed like they multiplied exponentially after a month.

By twelve only two of the men had disappeared, at this point (Y/N) not only lived in sandals (she still couldn’t find her socks) but she also couldn’t explain why her hair was burning off every time she tried to straighten it (her lil demon friends didn’t want her to, you’d think after almost 3 years of having men following her around and telling her what to do she’d get with the program already.) Her dog her parents had given her when she was 9 started disappearing quite often after he left. He always came back with a single sock that would disappear the next morning.

By thirteen (Y/N) had developed a crush (more like unhealthy obsession) on one of the men, Namjoon. The third year was also the year when Jimin disappeared, taking all of her favorite shoes with him. That year she had prayed to whoever was listening because her parents really couldn’t afford to keep buying her socks and shoes, and because she definitely couldn’t afford to shave her head.

By fourteen, Hoseok, the man who had cheered her up whenever she needed it, had gone, leaving a tidal wave of bad luck in his wake. He had a great deal in keeping (Y/N) happy, although some of his antics made her want to punch him, it never turned out that way.

When she was fifteen no one left… except for the dog. Aside from that, the only thing that left was her social life (It wasn’t like she had one before but you know it was still a little rough). (Y/N) began to depend more and more on her demons. She had become great friends with the oldest, Seokjin, who cooked for her when her parents went on trips.

At sixteen Yoongi left and the nightmares began. And with the nightmares came the growth of (Y/N)’s relationship with Namjoon. Namjoon became her protector, along with sometimes Seokjin, who still cooked for her and cared for her altogether when she couldn’t.

At seventeen, (Y/N) was informed that when she turned eighteen Seokjin would be leaving, on account that they didn’t need each other anymore. (Y/N) had been torn up when he told her and even more when he left. He didn’t take anything when he left other than a piece of (Y/N)’s heart.

At eighteen, (Y/N) moved away from her parents house with Namjoon trailing behind her (He even had lil demon suitcases and everything,) following her every move.

“I really don’t understand why you had to follow me out of my parents house. I thought spirits are supposed to be attached to a general area…” (Y/N) took to unpacking a box in the small apartment she now lived in.

“(Y/N) how many times do we have to go over this, I'm a demon, DE-MON.” Namjoon clapped his hands with each syllable. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at the self-proclaimed demon.

“Demon, ghost, same thing.” She shrugged her shoulders, “same thing as to-may-to, to-mah-to.”

“It is not the same thing!” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) like it was obvious.

(Y/N) snorted, “Okay Casper.” She continued pulling out the items in the box.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted, “CASPER!?” Namjoon put a hand over his chest and widened his eyes. (Y/N) looked up at the demon with a raised brow,

“Geez Casper, why are you so offended? I’ve called you Casper before, Casper.” (Y/N) struggled to keep in her laughter, trying to keep a straight face as she looked at Namjoon.

Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “I think I shall simply cease to exist in your realm.”

(Y/N) looked back down at the almost empty box, “You wouldn’t do that, you love me too much, my dearest Casper.” She said in a singsong voice, “Oh hey I found a sock.” She pulled out said sock from the box, it had yellow stripes. :]

“I think Jungkook took the mate to that when he left.” (Y/N) threw the sock at Namjoon with a loud ‘FUCK!’

“I mean we could try and summon him to see if he’ll return your socks.” Namjoon shrugged.

“I wouldn’t even try.” She started putting the random items in their new places.

“You should put Juno on the window sill rather than the coffee table, I mean cacti do need sun.” Namjoon looked at the little green prickle plant.

“I’m sure if i didn’t tell you how to parent your child, it would’ve been confiscated by child protective services.” Namjoon crossed his arms and looked at Juno who had been (rightfully so) moved to the window sill.

“Casper- Juno is a cactus. There is no CPS (Cactus Protective Services).” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with her own arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised, “Now if you could- Can you please go unpack a few boxes?” (Y/N) shooed Namjoon away before her eyes widened and she added in, “NOTHING LABELED FRAGILE!”

“You know if we painted a wall or two in here, it would liven up the place so much…” Namjoon looked around the bland apartment, “Maybe an accent wall over here. A floor lamp over there. A new plant in the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt you to give Juno some siblings.”

(Y/N) looked flabbergasted, “You want me to pop out another child?!”

“No I mean-” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“-OUT OF MY WALLET?!? MY BARELY 21 DOLLARS!?” (Y/N) got her wallet out and zipped it open. She shook it in the demon’s face, about 26 pennies, 2 nickels, 1 dime, and a quarter fell out. It was followed by a single, folded, 5 dollar bill.

“I don’t think that’s 21 dollars, (Y/N)” Namjoon looked down at the floor, where one or more of the coins had caught onto his feet.

“I have a gift card.” She pulled out the cheap plastic, silver, $25 visa gift card (that didn’t have 25 dollars) with a bit of a struggle.

“How much exactly is on that gift card (Y/N)?” Namjoon eyed the flimsy silver object.

“You expect me to know- I mean probably more than 10 dollars!” Namjoon raised a brow at the statement. “Okay, maybe about 3.69.” Namjoon sighed, massaging his temples. (Y/N) bent down to put the money back into her wallet like a pigeon eating bread crumbs the old lady on the bench threw onto the floor.

Namjoon walked away from the pigeon-girl and grabbed a notepad and pen that was left on the kitchen counter. “We’re making you a to-do list.” He stated, clicking the pen.

“WE haven’t even unpacked all the boxes yet.” (Y/N) whined, pointing at the last large box in the middle of the hallway. Namjoon looked to where she pointed and shrugged.

“It says Christmas decorations.”

“EXACTLY! VERY. IMPORTANT.” she clapped her hands in between each word.

“It’s February.” He said.

“It’s still winter.” (Y/N) reasoned, finally done picking up the money. She plopped herself down onto the small brown couch.

“Okay so first off you need a job.” He wrote it down onto the notepad, the pen scratching being overlapped by a loud gasp from the human in the room.

“You dare ignore me?!” She yelled offendedly at the demon who glanced at her before looking back down at what he was writing.

“You also need to go to the supermarket.”

“I told you I barely have any money.”

“Your parents gave you some money.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“And also, you should walk to the school and find a short route to get there.” Namjoon pulled out a literal map.

(Y/N) pouted, “I thought you were gonna walk me to all my classes to deter all the frat boys from coming my way…”

“I did say that,” he confirmed before continuing. “But I mean to get to the actual school grounds.”

“But we have a car.” She had drawnout the ‘but,’ trying to make her point that she didn’t need to walk.

“But you need exercise.” He reasoned, mimicking the way she had said her words.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“(Y/N) i’m not.”

“Yeah you ARE, Casper.”

“Would you PLEASE call me by my actual name for once?”

“Sure thing. Rap Monster.” She teased, the ground started shaking. (Y/N) let out a loud screech looking up at the demon who’s eyes were rolled back. “OH FUCK YOU!”

The shaking died down, Namjoon staring down at the girl who was now underneath the coffee table. “This is why you’re still here!” she cried.

“You want me gone?” Namjoon questioned, offendedly. (Y/N) army crawled her way from her ‘safe spot.’

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” She yelled, returning the offended tone.

“I’m out,” Namjoon pivoted on his heel, walking to the front door robotically.

“Noooo!”

“Will I ever see my socks again?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with hope, “I mean having shoes would be great too though.”

“What’s wrong with living in sandals? Birkenstocks are very comfortable.” Namjoon pivoted around with a candle in his hand.

“It’s winter.” (Y/N) frowned.

“You could always use mine?” He gestured to the shoes at the shoe rack at the front door. The ones that were closed toed…

“Your feet are too big.” (Y/N) looked over at the shoes, then looked down at her own feet, then at the demon.

“Size didn’t matter Last night with your sweaters?”

“That’s different, Namjoon.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Size.” Namjoon smirked.

“Different.” (Y/N) stood confidently.

“You know, you could always just go buy new socks?” Namjoon looked at her oddly.

“I usually wait to get them for Christmas, you should know this by now.”

“Independence.” He stated.

“You’re a hypocrite.” Namjoon let out a ‘huh?’ and (Y/N) continued, “You said independence when you’re dependent on me.”

“That isn’t my fault.” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“It kind of is though…” (Y/N) shrugged, Namjoon opened his mouth to retort but was quickly cut off, “I’m literally a rehab center for you.”

“Apparently you’re not a nicely rated one.” Namjoon shook his head.

“I’ve helped 6 other demons, Namjoon. You’re just being difficult.” (Y/N) poked his chest really hard before retracting her hand.

“Ouch,” he put his hand over his heart where she had poked him, “You shouldn’t be saying these things to your client.”

“I didn’t ask to get a client or even BE a rehab center.”

“The reason why you became a rehab center was because you decided that humans were ugly and disgusting.”

“The reason why you ended up with me was because you did something bad and you just now decided to be a good person and it’s not turning out well for you.”

“For your information, I could have left a long time ago.” Namjoon crossed his arms, with an audible exhale from his nose. He stared down at the rehab center.

“And why didn’t you, hm?” (Y/N) crossed her arms also with a raised brow. Namjoon kept quiet, debating how to answer, keeping eye contact as if it was an olympic staring contest.

“You.” He said. (Y/N) snorted, ready to insult the patient. “-would’ve starved to death by now if I hadn’t stayed with you until now.” He finished, (Y/N) gasped, reaching up and hitting Namjoon on the shoulder.

“You. Jerk. Get. Away. From. Me.” She hit him harder every word before waddling away into the hallway from the chuckling demon.

“No problem,” Namjoon disappeared with a veil of sparkles out of view.

(Y/N) thrusted open the door to her new bedroom. Continuing her waddle to the end of the full size bed. Facing the head board, she plopped the top half of her body onto the bed front first. Namjoon reappeared about 6 feet away from her with a loud poof and a burst of sparkles scattering around the room.

“Go away.” (Y/N)’s face was still shoved into the mattress, “Seriously shoo.” (Y/N) lifted her arm off the bed to wave him off.

“I won’t go. You can’t make me.” Namjoon walked towards the bed hesitantly, scared to get fucking murdered by his prison warden, “Move over. Give me some room.”

“Go sleep in my closet.” (Y/N) flipped the demon off.

“You’d prefer nightmares over your dearest Casper?”

“Yes.” Namjoon sat down on the bed, his knee almost hitting the girl’s head. “I thought I said in the closet.”

“And I prefer the bed.” Namjoon leaned forward and took (Y/N) by her hands and pulled her closer to himself with an annoyed groan from her. She was pulled until her head was laid on his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“I hate you.” (Y/N) grumbled into her demon-pillow.

“I know.”

“You live because I allow it, and that is it to be my flesh pillow.”

“Okay, now sleep.”

“But why do you have to leave?” (Y/N) looked up at her bunk buddy, her chin was impaling the person’s chest.

“I have to. I'm ready to go.” Yoongi looked crestfallen, “They said I could have one more night. But then, when I leave, I can pass on my role.”

“Could you maybe not steal my socks?” (Y/N) pouted at Yoongi who chuckled in response. “This is a genuine request.” She said with slight seriousness in her tone.

“You don’t have any to steal anyways,” he rolled his eyes with an endearing smirk that replaced his dispirited look just seconds before.

“Ok just- don’t go stealing any of my clothing, I need it.” (Y/N) clicked her tongue, not denying the fact that she was sockless.

“I won’t. I don’t need your clothing.” Yoongi shrugged, “I might take your guinea pig though. Meatloaf is cute.”

“YOU wouldn’t DARE take Meatloaf from me.” She glared

“I can and I will.” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the cage that housed Meatloaf. (Y/N) groaned, unlatching an arm that was sandwiched between the bed and Yoongi’s back. She planted her palm smack in the middle of the demon’s face, covering his view of the poor guinea pig.

“No.” She patted his face, Yoongi’s eyes now squeezed shut.

��I can lick your hand.” he threatened, his voice muffled and jumpy from the wacky hand.

“You’re gross,” she moved her hand up, now only covering his eyes and revealing a gummy smile from Yoongi.

“It’s sleep time,” he declared. (Y/N) whined in response, “I’ll be here in the morning to say goodbye one more time okay?”

“Promise?”

“Never said that,” he hummed.

“You jerk,” she groaned, laying her head sideways. Her ear over his heart, engraving the sound into her mind.

Like a cliche love story, (Y/N) woke up to no one but herself on the bed. Through groggy eyes, she could see that poor Meatloaf was gone too.

“I tried to stop him from taking Meatloaf I swear.” Namjoon uncrossed his arms from over his chest when he noticed that (Y/N) was awake.

“Did you really?” (Y/N) sat up in bed.

“I did, I swear,” he said immediately, “I have proof.”

“By proof, do you mean you broke something?” Namjoon took a deep breath figuring out whether or not to say yes or no.

“I… never said that.” He decided on dying, his words drifting off in nervousness.

“So… you did?” She concluded, Namjoon nodded slowly, his eyes down on the floor.

“Yea…” (Y/N) sighed, trying to find anger to cover up a tsunami of sadness that was approaching.

“It’ll be okay. We can summon him every once in a while. Maybe while we’re at it we can try to get your socks back.” Namjoon smiled and hoped it would make her feel better while the reality of things had begun to set in for him. All of the boys loved (Y/N) with all of their hearts but he was the only one willing to stay for the long run.

“I don’t think people want to go back to a rehab center, Namjoon.” (Y/N) let the tears begin to pour.

“(Y/N) it’ll be okay…” Namjoon went over to sit on the bed next to (Y/N), “Seriously we’ll get through this.” Namjoon put a hesitant hand onto (Y/N)’s shoulder and began trying to comfort her.

“I know- I know but-” (Y/N) sniffled, “Hold on, my mascara will run.”

“You’re not wearing any?-” Namjoon raised a brow and looked at (Y/N) like ‘bih-’

“Shush.” (Y/N) shushed Namjoon before shaking off his hand and placing her head on his shoulder.

“You know you can’t prevent me from getting a boyfriend forever.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon before continuing to pack her bag for school.

“I can and I will.” Namjoon slung his own bag over his shoulder. He was definitely a professor.

“You can’t make me be single forever.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and slung her backpack onto her shoulders.

“Your preferences in men are horrible (Y/N), I'm not trying to prevent you from getting a man.” Namjoon said in a matter of fact voice, moving and opening the front door, letting (Y/N) pass through before he walked out behind her.

She scoffed, “maybe you should hook me up with someone, maybe then you can leave rehab.”

“I miss Meatloaf,” Namjoon said solemnly, changing the subject.

“Why do you always change the subject when I bring up my love life?” (Y/N) complained, stomping her foot as they walked down the hallway of the apartment building toward the elevator.

“Do you think Yoongi will respond if we try to summon him?” He ignored the question.

“Hey Joon? Is your dick ribbed? I heard all the demon dicks were ribbed.”

Namjoon stopped in his tracks, putting his feet together and staring down at the human with a face screaming ‘what-the-fuck?’ (Y/N) had a boxy smile on her face, waiting for a response. “Who the fuck did you hear that from?”

“A fanfic I read, it was a group called DTS,” she shrugged. “Is it right though?” she leaned forward slightly in high expectations.

“Well-” Namjoon paused, “uhhh…” his eyes darted around. “Mine… isn’t.”

“Damn- that’s really disappointing,” (Y/N) frowned, throwing down an imaginary hat onto the ground and continuing walking with Namjoon following behind her.

“Why is it disappointing? You’re a virgin.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you think I’m a virgin?” (Y/N) looked offended. They stopped in front of the closed silver elevator doors, Namjoon hit the down button before responding.

“You literally had no social life in middle and high school and depended on demons who were attached to you by force in order to not lose your ability to speak in English.” Namjoon raised a finger, “Plus I’ve known you since you were ten and unless it was before that… I would know.” He slipped into the elevator, turning around and walking backwards. A know-it-all smirk plastered on his face while (Y/N) had an annoyed look on her own.

“Can we just- stop before we start arguing about my sex life?” She marched forward into the elevator like a preteen going into their room after an argument with their parents.

“How did you even become a professor?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon confused. “Couldn’t you have just you know… poofed yourself from people’s view when I go to school?”

“I need something to do while you’re in class. I might as well teach asshole frat boys how to do business math amiright.” Namjoon chuckled.

“I mean… you can just be the ghost you are and haunt me n’ stuff?” (Y/N) suggested, “I mean you already do that, Casper.”

“That’s Professor Casper to you.” Namjoon laughed too hard at his own joke.

“Ew,” (Y/N) cringed. “I’d rather call you Daddy Casper.”

“Only in the bedroom.” Namjoon looked at the human.

“Sex doesn’t always have to be private.” (Y/N) stared back at the demon, flipping her hair back. “Wait- are YOU a virgin then?” She asked, bringing back the topic from earlier, but this time about Namjoon.

“Classified.” Namjoon glared.

“So you ARE a virgin?” (Y/N) snorted a laugh, “And you call yourself a demon.”

“Not all demons are incubi or succubi, your demon-racist.” Namjoon accused.

“I am not demon-racist.” (Y/N) looked up at the tall demon, “I’m human.”

“You’re not a human, you’re the personification of the word ‘dumbass.’” He said, poking the proclaimed dumbass on the forehead.

“Rude of you to assume what I am, Casper.” (Y/N) smacked away his hand and pushed Namjoon not so gently on the shoulder.

“Now you’re the hypocrite,” Namjoon glared, “Professor Casper.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Daddy Casper.”

Namjoon frowned, “If you’re so persistent on not calling me Professor, then just Daddy works fine.”

The girl shrugged, “I’d prefer to just call you Daddy Casper, but without the Daddy part.”

“But what if I want to be called Daddy Casper.” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as they walked through the gates of the school, the walk soon enough would be coming to an end.

“Woahhhh down bessie.” (Y/N) lifted her hands and moved them in a downward motion, “Save it for the student who’s gonna try to fuck you for their grade.”

Namjoon laughed again, “You say it as if it won’t be you trying to fuck for an A.”

“I don’t get how an idiot like you got a job as a professor.” (Y/N) punched Professor Namjoon on the shoulder who was still laughing at the insult he pulled out his ass against the girl.

“I don’t know how an idiot like you got into college.” Namjoon rubbed his shoulder and then pushed (Y/N) back with a grin on his face. The bell conveniently rang, ending the conversation and forcing the pair to speed their way over to the classrooms.

“You know I saw one of the sorority girls eyeing you, I think we’ve found our fuck-for-a-grade person.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “You wouldn’t fuck her right?”

“I would never fuck one of my students.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Plus I don’t like cheerleaders, I like depressed freshmen who can see demons and that double time as rehab facilities.”

“I am not a rehab facility. I am a struggling freshman.” (Y/N) clapped at Namjoon.

“No you’re not a rehab facility, you’re my rehab facility.” Namjoon smiled cheekily, “And the way I see it you are not a struggling freshman, you live with a professor that helps you with most of your homework.”

“Eh- The one thing you don’t help with is stress relief.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “The least you could do is let me go out and find a boyfriend.”

“You HAVE a boyfriend.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“WHERE? WHO?” (Y/N)’s eyes frantically searched the room.

“HERE! ME!” Namjoon pointed at himself and then widened his eyes.(Y/N) looked at Namjoon with a raised brow, her frantic eyes stopping and looking the demon up and down.

“I didn’t know you had a rental-boyfriend service?” (Y/N) said in genuine shock, “I don’t have any money though so-“

“You don’t have to rent me.” Namjoon scoffed, “I’m right here and I cost no money.”

“I don’t take charity work, sorry.” Namjoon groaned and covered his face with a hand.

“You’re literally the most stubborn person I know.”

“I’m trying to keep my single streak here, thank you very much.”

“Wait so we aren’t dating?”

“You thought we were dating?”

“You didn’t think that?”

“You like me?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I mean- you never said it-”

“I literally said it seconds ago, (Y/N).”

“Well yeah, seconds ago I guess but I mean before?”

“I literally confessed to you when we were looking for apartments to move out of your parents house.”

“When?-”

“What about this place then?”

“I like it.”

“More than you like me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Are you questioning my love for you?”

“Bitch, maybe I am.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I be questioning it then, hmm?”

“I’m literally helping you look for a home that we both will move into.”

“That proves nothing.”

“Bitch- If that doesn’t say ‘I LOVE YOU’ I don’t know what does.”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe saying ‘I love you’ straight up?”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

“Nice.”

“Ohhhhhh.” (Y/N) smiled, “You meant that?”

Namjoon looked at her with a blank face. She stared back waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

“So… you do mean it?” She confirmed it herself. The demon nodded slowly, waiting for her to process it.

“(Y/N)? You good?” Namjoon waved a hand in front of her face.

“You know,” she started, finally having rebooted her system. “There’s a lot of things wrong with this relationship. First of all, you’re a demon and I'm a human.”

“Not the first time I've heard of that type of relationship.”

“Secondly, you’re supposed to leave soon considering you’ve delayed it enough. Even using my personified dreamcatcher as compensation to stay longer.”

“I’m pretty sure at this point, they’ve given up on trying to get me back.”

“Third of all, it’s weird that you’ve literally known me since I was ten.” She held up ten fingers, “How old are you again?”

“Not that old for a demon,” he shrugged.

“Exactly. For a demon, thank you for proving my point.” Namjoon went to retort but (Y/N) continued. “Fourth, teacher and student relationships are weird.”

“People roleplay it in the bedroom?” Namjoon shrugged once again.

“Exactly,” she said again.

“It’s technically not weird since you’re not my student though. You’re definitely not a business major so…” Namjoon weighed the pros and cons of being caught with a student even if said student isn’t even one of his.

“I’m an English Major- BUT that’s besides the point. You’ve still known me since I was ten.” (Y/N) poked Namjoon’s chest.

“Hey it’s not like I was creeping on you when you were a kid…” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“No you just started creeping on me when I was around sixteen.”

“It’s more acceptable than pedophiles!”

“You’re like three hundred!” She exclaimed, she threw her hands above her head to

“Add about seven-hundred years to that.” Namjoon added with slight hesitation.

(Y/N) stood there, mouth agape, trying to do the mental math.

“You’re one-thousand?!”

“Give or take some.”

“I- I’m going to remove myself from this situation.” (Y/N) walked away.

[:] I ran out of image things, so we get text from now on. [:]

“Maybe I should start sleeping in the closet.” Namjoon voiced his thoughts as he was grading papers one night.

“You don’t have to sleep in the closet.” (Y/N) looked at the demon from across the kitchen table.

“The closet is comfortable.” Namjoon shrugged before voicing his concerns about the student’s work, “I’m pretty sure this student is gonna try to suck my dick for an A. This work sucks ass. How did she even get x=34? The answer is x=0!”

“I’m bad at math, don't look at me.” (Y/N) jotted a note down on her work before closing her notebook.

“But anyway- Back on track. Why do you want to start sleeping in the closet?” (Y/N) raised a questioning brow.

“Because the bed is awkward now.” Namjoon sighed before writing a bold ‘10/35’ down on the paper and circling it. (Y/N) glanced over at the paper that was marked red at every inch of it.

“You should put ‘see me after class’ on it. Maybe she’ll suck your non-ribbed demon dick.” (Y/N) suggests as she puts away her notebook. Namjoon’s fist hit the table in annoyance with a loud sigh that definitely said ‘i’m not getting some dumb bitch to suck my dick.’ The girl snorted, “Geez, no need to be so rough on the table.”

“Stop bringing up my non-ribbed demon dick.” Namjoon glared across the table.

“You admit that it’s not ribbed? That’s rough, man.” (Y/N) sighed sympathetically. “Some people are into that, you know.” Namjoon facepalmed, a bit too harshly, a loud smack echoing in the cramped apartment. “No need to be so rough, Casper.”

“You’d probably like it rough, and why the hell are you so bent on the fact that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon glared, moving onto the next student’s paper.

“We’ve taken the god damn BDSM test together, Casper. You KNOW I'd like it rough.” (Y/N) said in a smart-ass tone, knowing for a fact that they’ve done the test before.

“That shit lies,” Namjoon declared, “I’m not a bottom.”

“We know sweetie, we know. The test did you dirty.” (Y/N) weighed her options before ultimately deciding not to cross the room to comfort her demon. “But you know, the test DID have some direct questions-”

“You mean like the golden showers?”

“Ew, why would you even bring that up.”

“You said ‘direct questions.'” Namjoon shrugged.

“That question was traumatic.” (Y/N) shuddered, “But anyway, You can keep sleeping in the bed. It’s only awkward for you. Plus you can’t even be a demon dreamcatcher from a closet.”

“I can and I will. Now go get ready for bed. I'll join you in a bit. I have to email the kids' advisor.”

[:] Oh wow, another spliter [:]

“What’s awkward about this?” (Y/N) asked, ignorant to the fact that it was very awkward. Her legs were wrapped around the demon’s waist, who was laying down as straight as a log uncomfortably.

“Everything is uncomfortable.” Namjoon tried to push (Y/N) off of him.

“This is where you’re wrong,” (Y/N) states. “Your chesticles are very comfortable.” She furthered her point, by moving her head and weirdly nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

“(Y/N) get off of me.” Namjoon was now really uncomfortable.

“No.” (Y/N) pulled Namjoon’s log-body closer.

“Please?” Namjoon wiggled some more, “Seriously (Y/N) get off.”

“No…” (Y/N) held Namjoon tighter, “Imma go sleep now.”

“Ok (Y/N).” With that Namjoon pushed (Y/N) up and off of him and climbed out of bed and into the closet.

(Y/N) whined, “Nooooooo!” She looked at the closet through her eyebrows. “Are you hiding something from me?” She accused the demon.

“Excuse me?” Namjoon opened the closet door a bit.

“Oh my god- are you a closet gay?” She gasped loudly.

“WHAT?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) from the crack in the doorway.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to use a fake confession to hide it from me.” She comforted the demon, “I will support you 1000 percent.”

“I’M NOT GAY!” Namjoon wiggled around in the closet before emerging from the space.

“Okay okay- but just so you know, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, Casper. Closeted or not.” She hummed, her words being muffled as she slowly put her face into the mattress.

“It’s been awkward since you basically called me a cradle robber, you stubborn piece of shit.” Namjoon blushed at his confession.

“I thought you didn’t care about that earlier.” (Y/N) looked back up, taking a deep breath of air after almost suffocating herself.

“Well I did.” Namjoon huffed out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Well that sucks,” (Y/N) said blandly, “I was thinking of saying I love you.”

“The fuck- wait,” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Night night.”

[:] Cockadoodle-Doo it's morning [:]

The next morning came around quickly for (Y/N), though I wouldn’t say the same for Namjoon. Having him overthinking the “postponed” love confession from (Y/N). Meanwhile, though the night was quick, the morning dragged the girl by the toilet paper stuck at the bottom of her shoe.

Frown plastered on her face, seemingly deep in thought. She was unmoving in her seat aside from her wrist moving to stir the half eaten cereal in front of her. Namjoon sat across from her, “You can stop thinking, you’re going to hurt your head.”

The insult snapped the girl out of her concentration, she looked up and clicked her tongue. “I was just thinking about you. You want me to stop doing that?”

Namjoon raised a brow, “Depends on what you were thinking about.”

“I was wondering if we could summon the boys,” (Y/N) smiled before continuing, “Maybe get my socks back…”

“Are you saying you’d enjoy the company of your socks more than you with me?” Namjoon asked rhetorically with a shocked expression. (Y/N) gagged and rolled her eyes.

“Namjoon…” she said with a honey coated tone. “Are you saying you don’t know that I know you’ve used MY socks before?” The accused had a shocked look on his face that looked like he was on the verge of throwing up.

(Y/N) started snickering, amused by the demon’s expression. “As if I'd use your cheap ass yellow striped socks,” Namjoon aimed his nose at the ceiling. The girl laughed harder, finding the insult to her socks a bit too amusing.

“Okay, back on topic,” she said in between giggles, “We’ll get back to this later.” Namjoon shook his head, unamused unlike the person across from him.

The offended sock insulter cleared his throat, “We should have enough time before we need to go to the school to summon one of them.” He said in a factual voice, (Y/N) nodded as she took a glance at the time that read 7:23 am.

“What did we need again?” She got up from the stool she sat on, abandoning the poor soggy cereal. Namjoon got up also with a hum of thought.

“Candles and a lighter are the main things, obviously,” He says. (Y/N) nodded going into one of the kitchen cabinets for the items. “And if we’re summoning all of them, we’d need offerings…” Namjoon drifted off.

(Y/N) put down the candles onto the marble counter and looked at Namjoon questionably, “So… we need another hamster and dog?” This made the demon pause before nodding slowly, the situation becoming a bit more difficult than it needed to be now.

“And then what about Hobi? What he took wasn’t exactly… a physical object?” She also put it into consideration and clicked her tongue. “I’m still mad at you for sacrificing my literal source of happiness and good luck for yourself.” Namjoon’s jaw dropped.

“I thought we were past this!” He threw his hands up in the air, (Y/N) flipping him off simultaneously.

“Maybe you were,” she sassed, pointing fingers with a half assed glare.

“Technically, it wasn’t a sacrifice, (Y/N).” He said, crossing his arms.

“Well-” She was cut off by the demon.

“Nuh uh, It was just him choosing to leave and wanting to stay,” he snapped, not in a harsh way though.

“But-”

“You know what, let’s just try and summon them another day. I don’t think it’d work anyways.” Namjoon said, dismissing the topic by waving his hand, taking a glance at the tree outside.

[:] Wooshy flash back time I guess [:]

“Why are you still here?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “I mean weren’t you supposed to leave this year?”

“I was supposed to leave instead of Hobi last year. I asked to stay.” Namjoon was sitting nonchalantly in one of the lounge chairs in her parents' living room reading the book she was supposed to be reading for school.

“Why didn’t you leave when you were supposed to?” (Y/N) looked at the demon, a look of confusion evident on her features.

“Who else is supposed to write your book reports for school?” Namjoon smirked while holding up the book before going back to reading said book.

“Then why did Hobi leave? Did he not want to be attached anymore?” (Y/N) began to tear up.

“It’s not that. I asked to stay because I felt I wasn’t ready to leave yet and Hoseok felt he was ready to leave. Most of the time, we leave when our time comes (Y/N). Hobi and mine were at the same time and I wanted to stay so I stayed.” Namjoon smiled at (Y/N).

“But why didn’t Hobi want to stay?” (Y/N)’s tears were flowing freely at this point.

“(Y/N)! Are you crying?” (Y/N)’s mom came rushing downstairs to investigate why her only child was crying.

“I’m fine.” Even (Y/N) wasn’t convincing herself, “Really Mom, I’m just over exhausted. I’m gonna go up to my room.”

[:] And back to the present :) [:]

“Are you almost ready to go?” Namjoon popped his head into the bedroom, “We have to leave soon if you want to be on time for school.”

“I’m almost ready, relax. And don’t you have a class to teach and a non-ribbed dick to get sucked by that one bitch for an A?” (Y/N) scoffed from where she was printing an essay that Namjoon had written the night before.

Namjoon started counting down from five, “Five- You better fucking get your ass in gear or you’re gonna be late. Four- Seriously (Y/N). Three- Professor Howard can’t give you another pass just because he likes you. Two-” Namjoon got cut off by (Y/N).

“I’m ready, asshole.” (Y/N) looked at him, “You better not let that bitch Brianna suck your dick.”

“I won’t let her suck my dick!” Namjoon raised his hands in defense, “What about my toes though?” (Y/N) looked at the demon with a face of disgust and looked at him from head to toe.

“Are you Namjoon or Taehyung?” She squinted, looking at his face.

“It was a joke!” Namjoon smirked, “But I'm sure she’ll do it for an A anyway.”

“I’m done with this conversation Casper.” With that (Y/N) slung her bag over her shoulder and left.

“Hey wait!” Namjoon grabbed his own bag before speed walking after (Y/N).

[:] Professor Casper or Daddy Casper? [:]

“SO.” (Y/N) sat down across from Namjoon in his office, “Rumour has it that you’re dating a cute english-lit major and are up for evaluation. What say you in your defense?”

“I mean I am dating a cute english-lit major. But I’m not up for evaluation, I used my demon charms to get out the punishment.”

Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“Did you actually?” (Y/N) gaped at Namjoon.

“No. I explained that dating you is punishment enough.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples popping.

“Bastard.” (Y/N)looked at Namjoon.

“Bitch.” Namjoon smirked at (Y/N) before leaning over the desk and kissing her on the forehead, “I love you.”

“Good.” (Y/N) blushed.

There, through the window of the office, there were 6 peeping toms watching the couple.

“Adadada-uda,” Taehyung stuttered, “THEY’RE SO CUTE!”

“This looks like it’d turn out like a straight porn video on the hub,” Yoongi says bluntly.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, “Ew straight.”

“Moving on,” Seokjin cleared his throat, “Does anyone remember when (Y/N) said I love you back?”

A series of “No’s” could be heard.

“Maybe we weren’t watching!” Jimin raised his hands, “But when were we not watching?”

“Oh I know!” Hoseok interrupted, “When they split up because of classes earlier. We left Yoongi hyung in charge just in case something happened.”

“I took a nap and must've missed it.” The guilty demon shrugged.

“No, (Y/N) definitely isn’t someone who confesses straight up.” Seokjin said, stroking his chin. The rest nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's why she didn’t have a man when we were still there.” Jungkook snorted.

“No JK, we all know the reason why (Y/N) was always single. Was because she was pining after Namjoon.” Jimin stated the obvious.

[:] Damn. Imagine having someone to kiss in public. Or at all. [:]

“So how do you reckon the staff caught onto us… I mean PDA really isn’t our thing.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Who have you told?”

“I haven’t told anyone!” (Y/N) frowned, “Maybe someone saw us go home together? I bet it was that bitch Brianna. She gives off the stalker vibes.”

“I’m not gonna let her suck my dick.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “And she’s already failing my class so even if I did let her suck my non-ribbed punisher, she still would probably only have a D-.”

“Hey- I thought we stopped referring to your dick as non-ribbed.” Namjoon raised a brow, making a face that said ‘you’re-the-one-who-started-it.’

Reading his expression (Y/N) glared at the demon, “Technically you’re the one who started it because you freely admitted it freely.”

“What makes you find out the hard way that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) suggestively before flopping namtiddie first into the couch.

“I think I would've preferred finding out the hard way.” (Y/N) flopping onto Namjoon’s hard back.

“So I can’t even have the couch to myself?” Namjoon groaned before realizing what (Y/N) meant by ‘finding out the hard way,’ “Are you saying you rather had found out in the heat of the moment after having prepared yourself for a ribbed demon dick?” Namjoon leaned his head up to bump (Y/N) who still had her fat ass on his back, “I can’t breathe, get off.”

(Y/N) rolled off of Namjoon before plopping herself down in front of Namjoon, “That’s exactly what I am saying.”

[:] Smh stalkers at every moment [:]

“And I got a big fat ass!” (Y/N) shook her ass while singing off-key.

“Your ass is everything but big, baby.” Namjoon passed (Y/N) to reach for the garlic from the spice cabinet.

The girl turned and looked at Namjoon with an offended look, “You know. As my rental boyfriend, you’re supposed to be nice.”

Garlic forgot, Namjoon turned to (Y/n) and grabbed her waist, “I’m not your rental boyfriend and you know that.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Okay go off I guess, not my rental boyfriend.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes before pushing Namjoon away.

“Woman,” Namjoon placed a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

(Y/N) turned around and smiled at her demon, “I could argue that you’re the one that wounds me.”

“I do not wound you.” Namjoon scoffs, “But I could very well wound you if you keep saying i’m a rental boyfriend, love.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to wound me now would we,” (Y/N) smiled up at Namjoon before leaning in and placing a quick peck to his lips, “I love you.”

Namjoon smiled before returning (Y/N)’s peck with a chaste kiss, “I love you too, baby.”

*Meanwhile from the dining room 6 men were watching from not so afar*

“Hyung! Hyung! Did you see that!” Jungkook excitedly pointed towards the couple in the kitchen.

Yoongi groaned, “See what?”

“Le gasp! How could you have missed that!” Taehyung held a hand over his heart, “(Y/N) initiated affection for once!”

Jin smiled, “It really was adorable.”

[:] Oh look, you're at the end. [:]

“Every kiss begins with consent.” Namjoon wiggled his shoulders while grading papers at the table.

(Y/N) smirked before leaning over the table and planting a large whet kiss on Namjoon’s cheek.

“Rude.” Namjoon scoffed before pulling (Y/N) in for a proper kiss.

“You know that kiss didn’t have much of my consent in it.” (Y/N) smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t think I consented to that either though.” Namjoon smiled.

“Get back to work baby.” (Y/N) nudged Namjoon towards his pile of papers.

“Yeah yeah.” Namjoon smiled before looking down and putting a big red ‘F’ on a paper clearly marked Brianna Simms.

“When will she just drop the class?” (Y/N) chuckled, “Dumbass.”

do not repost, translate, or claim as your own. :]

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

A nighttime conversation between Seokjin and Arin

kim seokjin x reader warnings; cuteness overload! words; 758

Takes place during chapter iv

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

“Did you have fun today?” Seokjin asked Arin as he finished tucking her tightly (her personal choice) into bed.

She’d had a busy day, it was a wonder she was still awake actually. In fact, she’d had a second surge of energy just before bath, time, which made washing her hair extremely difficult. He had not wanted a repeat of that time he’d accidentally gotten soap in her eyes, even though ever since then he’d been always sure to purchase child friendly shampoo in bulk. It was near to 9pm now but his daughter was still pretty buzzed.

“Yesss!” She squealed, grinning widely. “It was so fun.”

Seokjin chuckled, fond as anything as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He’d been promising to take her roller-blading again for a while now, it had been a long time since the last.

“I liked hanging out with Miss. Y/L/N,” Arin added, smile still on her face as she decided she wanted her arms out from under the covers, wriggling about like a wriggly worm.

Seokjin instantly went to help her, pulling her arms out before tucking her in again. “Arin, remember what she said, you can call her Y/N now.”

He was over the moon that both you and she had enjoyed yourselves today. He had been afraid maybe it was too soon at first, not wanting to feel like he was pushing you to hang out with he and Arin but you’d been just as enthusiastic as his daughter. That meant everything to him. To merge both parts of his life together like he had today.

Arin looked mildly embarrassed at his little reminder, laughing quietly. “I keep forgetting.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “Maybe it will take a little time to get used to,” and then, “She liked hanging out with you, too.”

Arin’s eyes widened, excitement in her voice as she asked, “How do you know? Did she tell you?”

Seokjin nodded. “Yep.”

His daughter was thrilled with that piece of information, giggling happily, her long dark hair, recently combed, draped across the pillow. “I like her. She’s my favourite ever teacher.” Then she paused, looking up at him curiously. “Do you like Y/N too?”

“Yes, I like her,” he replied easily. “I like her a lot.”

Arin continued to giggle, her hands coming up to her mouth as her cheeks tinged pink. “Because you were holding hands.”

He couldn’t help but laugh along. “Yes, because we were holding hands.” It seemed pretty obvious to him, but he took the opportunity just to make sure of something. “So, you’re okay with me liking Y/N? Miss. Y/L/N?” He asked. “Are you happy?”

She looked slightly confused by his questioning and nodded. “I want to see her more.”

“You can if you want to,” he smiled, trying to hide just how happy he was to hear such words. He didn’t want to overwhelm her at all, nor make her feel uncomfortable. The idea of seeing her father with another woman, one that wasn’t her mother, might very well have upset her, but he was certain that wasn’t the case now, as he looked down at her grinning wide.

“Tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “Maybe not tomorrow, but soon.”

Arin was turning into such a big girl these days, mature beyond her years and highly perceptive – although thinking about it, she’d always been like that. He couldn’t believe she was turning seven at the end of August. He thought back to a few days ago, when he’d had to explain the premise of dating to her. He’d been so painfully awkward and so totally out of his depth it was laughable.

He caught the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand and clapped his hands together. He was distracting her. “Okay, time to say good night now.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, brushing some hair away from her eyes. She smelled powdery, it reminded him of when she was a baby. She was probably too old by now, but Seokjin had a hard time letting go of that baby powder.

“Good night sleep tight. Don’t let the bed –

“BED BUGS BITE!!” She yelled over him, wriggling around once again.

Seokjin held his hands over his ears and winced. “Gosh, so loud.”

She laughed loudly, reaching for him. “Night night, daddy,” she said sweetly, soft lips kissing his cheek as she hugged him tight.

He smiled. “Night, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too. You’re the best.”

She told him that every night and he hoped she’d never stop.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #mls:drabbles #floralseokjin:writings

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

Eight Second Ride

Okay, so I did a thing. This is for @charincharge who made me think this was a good idea and @wordsxstars who convinced me to post it anyways when I reconsidered. XD I hope y’all enjoy.

CW- An inaccurate portrayal of modern cowboys. They ain’t shit y'all. XD

The smell of hay and top soil fills the arena and Aelin can feel the anticipation of the crowd rushing through her.

So far, Bulls Night Out had been more epic than she was expecting. When Aedion had showed up at her apartment and presented her with the tickets, she wasn’t impressed. A night in a building filled with dirt, watching men attempt questionable things with animals wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.

Yet, with every near-fatal miss and the difference between victory and failure lying in the milliseconds between competitors- Aelin found she was quickly becoming invested in the bizarre sport.

Lorcan Salvaterre was the name highlighted at the top of the leader board with an impressive nine-point-one second ride. A lot of the men, she noticed, didn’t even make the minimum eight seconds before flying off their bull.

Aelin had watched in morbid fascination as a rider named Vaughn was tossed and narrowly escaped death. A hoof missing his head by a hair. His buddies had helped pull him back over the fence just as a gate at the far end of the arena opened. She watched as two men on horses roped the angry steer and guided it back towards the stalls.

When Vaughn saw the timer which now reads N/A he took off his hat and threw it on the ground, yanking on the ends of his dark hair. A couple of hands reached around to pat his shoulder consolingly.

Aelin’s attention was pulled away as Aedion squeezed his massive thighs through the tiny, crowded stadium seating. A cherry frosty in one hand and the funnel cake she requested in the other.

He set the dessert of fried batter and powdered sugar in her lap, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Whether it was from the sight of something so greasy, or the pure joy of the carnival snack she didn’t know.

“It’s about time,” she goads Aedion through a mouthful of dough. The sugar already coating her fingers and a layer of it dirtying her jeans. It was a mess, but so good.

Aedion’s eyes narrow at her as he sips his frosty, “It’s a mad house down there. All of the lines are like a mile long and I’m pretty sure a clown tried to grab my ass.” He snags a bite of her funnel cake and shoves it in his mouth. “I hope your snack was worth it.”

“Keeping me happy is worth it,” she smacks his wrist when his fingers try to swipe another bite.

The crowd roars and Aelin looks back down to see a rider running back towards the fence, a glinting smile on his face. On the big screen, they replay his ride and clock him at nine-seconds even, placing him in second place.

Aedion whistles appreciatively at the footage and Aelin claps when a Fenrys Moonbeam is placed just below Lorcan on the leader board.

“Damn, he’s attractive.” Aedion comments, and Aelin nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical about this-“ they watch as another rider is helped onto a bull and they await the go, “but this is way more fun then I thought it was going to be.”

“It helps that all of these people are fine,” he laughs. Aedion pulls out his phone, and videos the next ride. It only lasts five seconds, but makes an excellent boomerang that he swiftly posts to his story. Followed by a selfie of them and their snacks.

Lysandra would be so mad she bailed.

“Shit,” Aedion swears as he drops his frosty and the red ice bursts across the front on his shirt. “Shit. I forgot napkins.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aelin assures, but as she battles her way through the crowd and bumps various limbs against other peoples body parts, she regrets her chivalry.

It takes five minutes alone just to get to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling herself free from the throngs of people, Aelin leans against the bars looking down, directly into the arena. She needed a moment of fresh air, not surrounded by dozens of sweaty people. Aedion could wait an extra damn minute.

But, as she peels her eyes open, they nearly bug out of her head. Directly below her she can see right into the shoot, and the bull rider who was being set up for his next ride.

His eyes are the same pine green as the forests of her homeland, and she can see the white hair coiled into a bun right before his buddy slaps a hat on his head.

He was beautiful. A work of masculine art. Muscles for days and Aelin swore she could gut glass against his cheekbones. Aedion’s napkins are long forgotten as she stares at the man situating himself onto the fidgeting bull.

Rowan Whitethorn- the name is plastered on the big screen alongside his previous states and homeland. He’s from Wendlyn, her mother’s country of origin.

When Aelin looks back down, she startled. His face is locked on hers, green eyes piercing her skin with its inquisitiveness. He’s close enough she can see his pail eyelashes droop, apparently satisfied by what he sees. Aelin forces her expression to stay neutral as his yes flitter back up her face to meet her own gaze.

Their eyes lock, neither of them blink. Aelin can feel the temperature of the building rise by several degrees and she bites her lip.

A man slaps Rowan’s shoulder, telling him the count down has started. He barely pays the person any mind though as the seconds before his ride dwindle down. Just before the horn blows, he winks at her.

Aelin’s whole face burns as the gate is released and Rowan is out of the shoot like a rocket. Her heart is thumping in her chest like a base drum and she’s about ready to lay on the floor and die.

That man. She caught that beautiful man’s attention and got into a veritable starting contest with him like a five year-old. Her horror is only exacerbated when she realizes her hands are still coated in powdered sugar and it was probably on her face as well.

So much for her image as smoldering, goddess.

A roar from the crowd rises like never before. The men above the shoots near her have their hats off and are cheering at the top of their lungs. People are stomping, clapping. Something big just happened.

A replay of Rowan’d ride is playing across several different screens. Below his name, is his time.

Twelve seconds.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands are gripping the rails near her face, and a heavily muscled body is pulling itself up and over the edge.

Aelin staggers back as Rowan drops onto the floor in front of her. His eyes are lit with adrenalin and sweat beads his brow, but despite the whirlwind he’d just gone through he looked strangely serene.

He marches in front of her grabs a paper from inside his pocket. It’s a crumpled paper with a bold number on one side and on the back is his name and information.

Information like his phone number.

Her mouth goes dry as he presses it into her hand. Rowan gives her a smile that sends a tingle down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

“You are good luck, doll. You should give me a call sometime.”

Aelin’s bravado catches up with her and she places a hand on her hip, meeting his gaze full on. “If I’m such good luck then you would take me out for a drink. Tonight.”

Pulling the hat from his head, Rowan combs a hand through the loose strands of silver hair cascading around his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll be in row ten, seat seven. When you are done.” She pushes the piece of paper back at hum and nods to where Aedion is sitting. He’s be pissed when he realized she would be ditching him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” his eyes rake over her one more time before walking away to join his jovial friends.

They clap his shoulders, he’s so tall some of them have to jump to rustle the top of his head. All of them enthused over his almost assured win, before they sweep him away and he disappears into the crowd, he looks back at her one more time.

An hour, she mouthes to him.

A half-grin graces his face and he tilts his chin as Aelin makes her way back to Aedion.

Yeah, the rodeo was definitely more exciting then she was expecting.

#one shot maybe #cowboy au #rowaelin #rowan #aelin #charincharge asked #I delivered

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FOUR

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

Warnings: fighting with parents and some swearing

---

The bright sunlight hit your eyes and you squinted a little as your feet hit the driveway.

Julie’s song was still playing through your head, and so was your conversation with her last night. The passion in her voice when she sang was the same as when she talked about her mom.

You wanted to run in and comfort her somehow, but Luke seemed insistent on staying outside, making Alex grumble next to you.

“Dude, why did you stop me? Julie needs a hug.”

“A ghost hug is not the feel-good moment you think it is. Trust me.” Luke said. What Julie needs is some privacy.”

“I think you poofed us out because you can’t handle when other people cry.” Alex waved his finger in Luke’s face, making you frown at his words.

It wasn’t a secret that Luke wasn’t the best with feelings, but he had always been there for you. Last night in the darkroom, and again at the diner, and countless other times.

“I should know,” Alex continued, gesturing between Luke and Reggie. “I cried in a room for 25 years, and I didn’t get a single hug from either of you.”

Reggie sighed, opening his arms. “Bring it in.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“This is why no one but (Y/n) hugs you.” Reggie mumbled as you rubbed Alex’s arm.

“Okay.” Luke interrupted. “So, once we get the courage to go in there, we should ask Julie why she lied about playing the piano.”

Alex shrugged. “And maybe tell her how amazing she is?”

You nodded and Reggie exclaimed. “She’s legit! I got ghost-bumps.”

Just then, the gate leading to the house swung open and a girl made her way down the pavement. As she got closer, you could hear her sobbing quietly.

“Oh no, was she crying too?” You asked as the girl entered the garage.

“Yes!” Luke shivered. “We definitely can’t go in there.”

“No, but we can listen.” Reggie ran towards the door, standing on his tip-toes to peek through the window.

“Guys! We can’t eavesdrop, that’s creepy!” You whispered, but the boys ignored you and crowded the door.

Seconds later, they all ducked to avoid being seen and you couldn’t help but be curious. So you ran over and squeezed yourself between Luke and Alex.

“I’m not okay!” The other girl shouted. “You got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say, and I might’ve had seven sodas but I need to get this out.”

“Flynn-” Julie started but Flynn shook her head and started ranting.

“Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hallway sometimes but we’ll make new friends.”

“That’s not true.” Julie said.

“You’re right, I won’t make any new friends. The only time we’ll contact each other is by liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I hit that little heart, mine will be breaking because my best friend left me.”

“What’s Instagram?“ Alex whispered to you. You shrugged, making a mental note to ask Julie later.

Julie sighed. “I just played piano and sang again.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying but then your seven sodas kicked in.” Julie laughed.

Flynn squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Look at you, looking all alive again. What made you play again?”

Julie slid her mom’s song across the piano to show Flynn and you couldn’t help but smile. You obviously hadn’t known Julie for long, but you were so happy that she reconnected with her mom and music.

“I was so scared to play it, cause everything having to do with music reminds me of her. But I woke up this morning, realizing that’s exactly why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.”

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in the music program. My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again.”

“Not our band name.” Julie laughed as the girls started walking out of the garage.

“Shit, she’s coming!” You whispered. “Act natural.”

You and Reggie sank to the floor, Luke leaned on his arm and Alex pretended to inspect the light hanging above you. Julie made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Oh, hey!”

Flynn turned around and watched Julie expectantly. Julie laughed awkwardly and started skipping down the driveway.

“Let’s hustle!” She grabbed Flynn’s arm and started walking up the stairs, waving goodbye.

“We weren’t listening!” Reggie said, earning a pinch on the arm from you and a kick to the ankle from Luke. Julie started swatting the air, trying to play it off like there was a bug, and pushed Flynn up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, you made your way back into the garage. You sat at the piano bench, mindlessly playing the few chords you knew.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano.” Reggie said.

“It probably has something to do with her mom.” You guessed, your fingers gliding across the keys.

“Yeah, that must’ve been hard.” Alex added before climbing up to the loft. “I really feel for her.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.” Luke said, reaching over and hitting the note next to your finger.

“Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.” Alex said and you snorted. “Hey, I think some of our old clothes are up here.”

He threw down a black trash bag filled with clothes and you sighed in relief. The night you died, you wore a plain pair of jeans, and your favorite old t-shirt of your dad’s. You usually wore one when you played a gig, so that a part of him could be with you in some way and of course; Luke’s jacket.

And as much as you loved your outfit, being in the same clothes for 25 years was not exactly sanitary, even by ghost standards.

“Sweet!” Luke exclaimed, taking off his shirt.

Shit!

You tried as subtly as possible to look away before anyone saw the blush on your cheeks, and you thought you had gotten away with it until Reggie laughed from across the room.

You sent him a glare, but that only made him laugh harder.

Suddenly, the studio doors opened again and Julie’s dad came in. He had a sad look on his face and a camera in his hands. It had ‘Ray Molina’ engraved on the handle so you figured that was his name.

The man walked right through Reggie, making him shudder. “That was weird. But somehow I can tell this man has a kind heart.”

“So, how have you been?” Ray asked, his voice heavy.

“Honestly, not that good.” Reggie said and you rolled your eyes. “See, we ate these hotdogs and-”

“Julie sang for the first time again this morning.” Ray took a picture of the room. “She hasn’t done that in almost a year. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, we heard cause we-.” Reggie wiggled his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Oh, I get it. He's not talking to us."

"Dude, you are so lucky you play bass." Luke said.

"I think he's talking to Julie's mom." Alex sighed.

Ray started walking towards the piano. "She's such an amazing young woman."

He started running his hands on the keys so you slid off the bench. You knew you definitely shouldn't be listening, this was definitely not something you weren't meant to hear but you couldn't help your curiosity. "Everyday she reminds me more and more of you."

"Called it!" Alex cheered.

Ray shifted the camera between his hands. "I'm taking pictures for the real estate website. I don't really wanna move, but...it's what's best for Julie."

Alex came down from the loft and you all crowded around the piano. Luke stared at Ray with wide eyes. "Move?"

Ray gently played a few notes of a ballad before he spoke again. "There's so many memories out here. Like, Julie sitting next to you and Carlos trying to sing with his missing front teeth."

Luke let out a shaky breath and you realized he was crying. It wasn’t until a tear rolled down your cheek that you realized that you were too. You frantically wiped your eyes, doing your best not to break down.

Ray was exactly what you always pictured your dad used to be like, and his love for Julie was exactly the same kind you knew he would've had for you. Thinking about your dad made you think about your mom, and that made trying to stop crying a whole lot harder.

"Come on guys, not you too." Reggie said.

"It's just...he's talking about moving but the poor guy doesn't wanna move." Luke sniffled.

Ray stood up and took a picture of right where you were all standing. "It's like they grew up out here."

Reggie fanned his face. "Now he's got me too."

Alex scoffed. "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"

"Can we go see my family? See how they're doing?" Reggie asked, his voice shaking a little.

You nodded. “Yeah, listening to this doesn’t feel right.”

Just as you go to leave, Ray laughs. "Remember when the kids were at your sisters and we came out here on our anniversary..."

"Yeah, no! " Luke cringed. "Definitely wrong.”

The beach was where you spent a lot of your free time when you were alive.

Usually after a long day when you just needed a place to work on new lyrics in peace. But sometimes after playing all day at the pier, the boys would drag you down to the water and you would all stay there as long as possible. Away from parents and responsibilities.

But just like everything else, it had changed so much.

"A bike shack," Reggie sighed. "Right where my house used to be."

"I'm sorry, Reg." You rested your head on Reggie’s shoulder.

"Why couldn't they at least have turned it into something cool like a pizzeria or something?"

"They tore down the whole neighborhood." Alex said.

"I guess my folks are gone."

Alex kicked his foot into the sand. "Everyone's gone. Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family, Bobby, everyone."

That was another person you hadn't wanted to let yourself think about. Even though you and Bobby weren't super close, he was still a part of Sunset Curve. He could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes but he was still your friend.

"Bobby, that's right." Reggie said. "Guess that vegetarian lucked out. Wonder what happened to him?"

"He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on." Luke grumbled.

"Dude, how are you so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, don’t you want to figure out what happened?” You asked.

“Let’s be real for a second.” Luke exhaled, clearly getting worked up. “It’s not like any of us were close to our families. My parents always regretted buying me that guitar. Reggie, your parents were literally a fight away from divorce.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair as he ranted, talking with his hands the way he always did when he was upset. “Alex, I- Your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.”

His eyes landed on you and he seemed to ease up a little. “(Y/n), you practically raised yourself since your mom was gone all the time.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said. “None of us had it great.”

“But at least we had something! What do we have now?” Alex shouted. “And before you say cool teleportation, I’m not cool with that either. It tingles. In weird places.”

Luke sprang to his feet. “I’ll tell you what he had. It’s what we’ve had since the day we came together. Guys, we have us. We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You wanna know what else we got?”

“I’m gonna guess death breath?” Reggie said.

“Our music, you dork.” Luke laughed. “People can hear us play again! They can’t see us, whatever, but they can feel us. I wish I had my guitar.”

Suddenly, the air around you made a sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and Luke’s six-string appeared in his hands.

“Whoa.” You said.

“How did you do that?” Reggie asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I wished for it and then...” Luke played a few chords and beamed.

Reggie jumped in place with his arms open, trying to wish for random things before he eventually gave up and slumped into the sand.

“I think I know what will cheer you up.” Luke said. He played the opening of ‘This Band Is Back’ and you couldn’t help but smile. Out of all the Sunset Curve songs, this was one of your favorites.

“Come on, Reginald.” Alex said as he started hitting his legs and chest to make a beat.

You offered Reggie your hand and pulled him up as Luke started the countdown. Reggie took it and twirled you around, effectively getting sand in your shoes. You laughed and spun him around before dragging him up to the tables in front of the restaurants as he sang.

The people around you seemed confused by the sudden music, but they danced around anyway. You forgot how much you loved seeing people react to your music. Watching them dance and smile made all your worries float away, even if it was just for now.

And for the first time since the Orpheum,

It really did feel like the band was back.

August 1994

It was just after sunset when you called the Patterson house.

The sound of your mom slamming the front door was still fresh in your mind and before you could stop yourself, your fingers were flying across the buttons. Luke was the only person who knew about your relationship with your mom.

You didn’t want to worry Cece, or Alex, or anyone else. But hiding things from Luke wasn’t easy, especially with how stubborn he was. So you told him everything, and he told you,

‘Call me next time, okay?’

The line only rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?”

It was Emily, Luke’s mom.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.”

Emily laughed and you could practically hear her roll her eyes fondly. “(Y/n), sweetie, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

Even though you and Luke had been friends most of your lives, you had only met Emily a handful of times. Luke didn’t really like hanging out at his house, especially when he started fighting with them regularly. Still, Emily always treated you like her own kid whenever you were around.

“Sorry, Emily.” You said. “Is Luke around?”

You heard some shuffling as she called out for him and after a few minutes, Luke picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi, are you busy?”

“No, why?” He asked.

“Well, I made enough cookies to feed a small country and my mom’s gonna be gone for the night so I thought we could hang out.” You rambled. “Maybe finish ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Luke laughed excitedly. “Yeah, sure! Give me like 20 minutes.”

Luke’s laugh was so infectious that you had to fight through a giggle. “Okay, see you soon.”

As you went to hang up, you hear Emily’s voice again. She was teasing Luke about something but all you caught was the word ‘Girlfriend’, making you turn bright red.

You put the phone back on the hook just as the oven beeped to signal that it was ready to bake the cookies. You put them in the oven and turned your attention to the huge bowl of cake batter in front of you. At this point, there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen you hadn’t baked.

There was no way you would be able to eat all of it, even with Luke’s help. But you needed something to distract yourself to keep your mind from overloading.

True to his word, Luke arrived twenty minutes later, bursting through your front door and screaming the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. He skipped his way into the kitchen, immediately sensing something was wrong when you didn’t join him or even acknowledge his presence.

“(Y/n)?” Luke approached you slowly.

“Hey.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, not looking up from the bowl. “So, you ready to finally finish this movie?”

Luke didn’t say anything as he scanned the kitchen. There were piles of cookies and cooking utensils all over the counter, and you had flour in your hair. You could see the realization flash across his face through your eyelashes.

“Okay, you’re baking everything in the house, which can only mean one of two things,” Luke said, his voice becoming more serious as he jumped up on the counter. “You either watched Sixteen Candles unsupervised again or…”

You stayed quiet as you slowly stirred the batter. It was ready to put in the pan ten minutes ago but you needed something to do to distract yourself.

Luke’s hand gently gripped yours before taking the spoon from you and letting it fall into the bowl. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you with a furrowed brow.

Damn it.

You should’ve known he would see through your thinly veiled excuses and promise of cookies. Luke was more observant than people gave him credit for.

“C’mere,” Luke said, opening his arms. You moved between his legs and buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt in tears, flour, and batter. But he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed circles into your arm with one hand while the other cradled your head.

“She hates me.” You said through a deep, shuddering breath.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke reasoned. “It’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his protective streak when it came to his friends, and the way that no matter what, he could only see the best in them.

And as his best friend, you were pretty much perfect in his eyes. Which meant that when you didn't immediately agree, Luke launched into a rant.

"First of all, you're like the smartest person in the world. You manage to get good grades while also working at the diner three days a week which is nuts.

Secondly, your voice is insane! And your lyrics, (Y/n), we wouldn't even have half the Sunset Curve songs without your killer songwriting skills!"

"You done, Lu?" You joked as you pulled away just enough to look up at him, trying not to blush. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool when he complimented you, it always made you melt inside.

"I'm just saying," Luke laughed softly. “You are literally the best person I know, Squeaks.”

You let out a watery laugh at the mention of your childhood nickname. It was one that Luke had given to you in 4th grade after he put a bug on your arm and you had squeaked in fear.

“And just think,” Luke whispered, his voice sounding a little wistful. “One day, we’ll get signed to a label and end up somewhere far away from here.”

“We barely started making our demo.” You said, making Luke scrunch his nose in the way that always made you giggle. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

“Nope.” He smirked. “Okay, I gotta ask, were you planning on baking this or is this a new look you’re going for? ‘Cause I gotta be honest, it’s not your best.” Luke said teasingly as he swiped some batter from your cheek.

“Oh, really?” You asked, dipping your finger in the bowl and smearing the batter across Luke’s face, making him gasp. Then you took a slight step back and hummed thoughtfully. “Definitely looks better on me.”

“You know what?” Luke scoffed, trying to hold back a smile and before you could blink, he reached into the bowl and flung the spoon at you, splattering your shirt. “I think you’re right.”

“Jerk!” You laughed, wiping off your shirt as Luke tried to lick the batter off his chin but he only managed to make an ever bigger mess.

“Did I get it?” He asked, making you giggle.

“Not quite.” You reached forward and carefully wiped it off, desperately trying to focus on anything other than how close your faces were. But it was impossible when you could feel Luke’s breath on the tip of your nose. “There.”

Luke’s face was unreadable as he looked down at you. The playfulness had evaporated in the air and was replaced with something else that you couldn’t really read either. Just when you thought the moment would last forever, the timer for the second batch of cookies rang through the kitchen, and you practically bolted to the oven.

You pulled them out and put them on a plate. “So, you know that we have to watch Sixteen Candles now, right?”

Luke groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Even though he would never admit it, you knew he secretly loved romance movies. “Fine, but Raiders of the Lost Ark after?”

“Deal.”

As Luke went into the living room to start the movie, you sighed to yourself. Maybe you would never have a normal relationship with your mom.

But you had your band, your friends, and even if it wasn’t exactly in the way you wanted;

You had Luke.

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @nxacomposts @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you wanted to be added!

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #julie molina #Reggie Peters #Alex Mercer #jatp fanfic

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prettylittlebutterflie · 3 years

Text

It All Started With A Break

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

Okay, so I have fallen down the rabbit hole known as MariBat and I just can't stop all the ideas I have because of this and decided that enough is enough and I am doing it.

This is my very first fanfic - or any fic actually - but I hope you guys like it and be WARNED that some of you may find some part of this story that's similar with another and that may've been because I really liked the idea when I read it and wanna have a kinda similar thing here and the same goes with some trope of this fanfic in the future, but I'll do my best to keep it unique. I am also new to the DCU, but I'm doing research and planning to binge watch stuff and if you could please help this poor soul find a way to navigate and somehow get an idea on how that universe work (especially abt the batfam), I'll be forever grateful to thy savior.

This fic is canon until S4 Ep 1&2 (Truth & Lie) of MLU and as for the rest, I'll let you guys know.

So yeah, that's all. Enjoy and hope you guys like it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

P.S. Sorry I kinda ranted, this is my first time actually posting smth so bear with me people

SYNOPSIS

It’s been four years ever since Hawkmoth, who now goes by the name Shadow Moth, began his reign of terror in Paris. Four years worth of akumas that have brought pain and suffering. Four years of no rest in controlling their emotions, afraid of what may come if they were controlled.

After four long years, the Miraculous Team can finally see a ray of light. Everything they have sacrificed for that one goal they all share is finally going to be repaid… Not.

Locating Hawkmoth was easier said than done, and the frustration is finally getting to them. With that, it was decided that they need a break from their hero lives — ok, maybe not. After all, Shadow Moth is proving himself to be a workaholic (like dude, don’t you have anything better to do than destroy everyone’s schedule?) — but anyways, it was clear. THEY. NEED. A. BREAK. Away from Paris. Away from Hawkmoth. Away from the frickin akumas.

So yeah, that’s how it was decided (more like forced) that they are going to America to relax, let loose, and have some fun. After all, who knows, maybe a break is all they need to get things to start getting better — or worse.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

PROLOGUE

“Alright. So, we are going to take a break—”

“For two months.”

“For two months. And because it’s supposed to be a break, that means—”

“No thinking of anything Moth related.”

“No thinking of anything Moth rela— Moth related?”

“You know, Hawkmoth, Red Moth, Shadow Moth, those Moths.”

“Right. Moths. Aside from Moths, it also means—’

“No thinking of akumas.”

“No thinking of akumas. For this entire break, we’re not going to think about—”

“Anything Miraculous related.”

“Anything Miraculous related. Alya, do you really need to do that every time I’m about to say it?”

“It’s because she knows you. We know you. It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how you always promise not to worry about something, especially anything Miraculous related, just to break it the moment anything related to it comes up. So, yes. She needs to say it and repeat it as much as possible for it to go through that head of yours.”

“Guys, I swear, I’m really going to follow through with this plan. I did agree that we need to unwind ourselves since we’re getting way too stressed and that won’t help us focus on our job.”

“Only after we bugged you about it. Get it? Bugged. Pfft—”

“Hey! Puns are my thing. And you shouldn’t be saying it like that. You’re making it ape-solutely obvious and that makes it not punny anymore”

“Dude, do you really have to do that? That’s so not paw-some. Pfft—”

“All puns aside, it is true that we had to convince you, Mari-hime, to agree on taking a break. Although I rarely take a break from fencing, my Mother and I are aware of the importance of having one and may I also remind you that you were the one who taught us that.”

“And that’s why I told you guys to go have one.”

“But you plus the kitty are the ones who need it the most. Remember what future-me said? About you two always leading us and how she— or rather I am the last one called upon? That means you guys are always gonna work while the rest of us may or may not be needed in some fights.”

“There is a 97.6% probability of you two showing up in fights.”

“Because we have to. It’s our responsibility as the one leading our team.”

“M’lady’s right. Besides, there were only the two of us in the beginning and with all the akumas, we just got used to it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest. The music I’m hearing from both of you is filled with the stress you guys have and it doesn’t sound nice. Maybe you two unwinding will help make it more beautiful and even more powerful than before.”

“Fine. We’re all taking a break—”

“Especially you and Adrien.”

“Especially Adrien and I, for a month. Now, does anyone have any ideas on how we're gonna do that?”

“Ooh! Me, me! I have a competition coming up this summer break so I can’t really go anywhere too far since I have some training to do.”

“I’m sticking with the ape. Gotta keep an eye on him if I don’t want him messing up with the timeline. Plus, it’ll be pretty fun beating him up every time he asks for a challenge.”

“Hey!”

“The same goes for me. Someone has to make sure the correct time is recorded with not a single millisecond of it missed. Kwami knows how many times he messes it up whenever he does the recording himself.”

“Okay. So Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris. Are you guys sure that you’ll be able to take a break even if you’re in the city?”

“Yeah, we're fine. And I am totally beating you next time, little bunny.”

“Whatever. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, y’know.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, I have an internship in America this coming summer. The one at the Daily Planet. I just got the email and I was finally given an invite!”

“Really? Cool! Told you you’ll get it, babe!”

“Yeah! That’s really awesome, Alya! So I’m assuming you'll be accepting that?”

“You got it, girl! I mean, this is the Daily Planet we’re talkin’ about. I’ll learn so much about writing and journalism there, I’ve just got to take it.”

“So Alya’s going to America. Anyone else with plans outside of the country?”

“There will be an upcoming world-class fencing competition this summer and Mother and I have discussed my participation in it. It will be held in the States as well, specifically Gotham, two weeks before the end of the summer break. Maybe you should participate in it as well, Adrien. That way, you’ll have an excuse for your father to leave the country. I’m sure Mother will be happy to convince him as well to let you participate in it. That way, at the very least, I’ll have someone I know who’ll be an actual challenge.”

“Really? That actually sounds great! I’m sure Father would agree if your mother’s the one who suggested it. Thanks Kagami!”

“Okay. Kagami and hopefully Adrien will have a fencing competition in America too.”

“My Dad is having a tour in America right now. He’ll be having the last one at Metropolis during the summer break. He actually wants me to go with him, but I declined. It’ll be great if we all could go there and see it.”

“Dude, that’s so cool! Maybe you’ll even get to perform with your dad on stage. You did make that song with him that reached the record chart’s top. I’ve even made a playlist based on it.”

“Okay then, that makes Alya, Kagami, Adrien, and Luka going to the States. Chloe, do you also have plans to go there this summer? Maman said your mother was thinking of inviting you to be one of the models in an upcoming fashion show there.”

“She did mention something like that, but I wasn’t really paying attention to details once I found out that it’ll be outside of Paris. I’ll discuss it with her again then I can have my much needed vacation in the States.”

“So now that makes five of you going to America. Nino?”

“Well, I don’t really have any plans this summer. Just chill out and relax, y’know, make some playlist, listen to some music.”

“Ooh! How about you come with us, babe? That’ll be so cool and not all of us will be doing something most of the time while we’re there. You can just chill and relax there and maybe you could even study the kind of music they listen to and make a playlist out of it.”

“I would love to go, but I don’t think I really got the money for it. ‘Sides, my parents might not allow me to go out of the country.”

“You’re already 18 and if your parents ever say no, just tell them that you want to really relax, without keeping your emotions in check and have the freedom to let it out. I’m sure they’ll understand and unlike my Father, they actually listen to you.”

“As for the money, I have some savings and if you want I can lend you some-”

“But-”

“Lend. I’m not just giving it to you. You will have to pay me back, alright? And if you try to say no again, I’m going to insist that you don’t pay me anymore.”

“You sure? You're the best! Thanks, Minette.”

“No problem. So now that makes six of them—”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Seven. We’re including you.”

“Me? But Alya, I already got plans this summer.”

“Plans? What plans?”

“I was planning on working on my commissions this summer an— Guys, can you all stop rolling your eyes on me and no, Chloe. I don’t need you doing it again.”

“Girl! We all agreed that we’re going to take a break this summer. How does doing your commissions sound like a break to you?”

“You all got your own thing to do this summer and mine just happens to be those. Also, the break was for anything Miraculous related. My commissions don't exactly fall under that.”

“Nope. We actually all agreed that for you, commissions should be added to the list of things you get to take a break from.”

“Adrien! I thought you’re supposed to be my partner? So much for the two of us against the world.”

“He is still your partner alright. But also, as someone who truly cares about you, he decided that you really needed a break. And besides girl, this could be your chance!”

“Chance? What chance?”

“Your pen pal! Doesn’t he live in Gotham? You could go and finally meet him. Who knows? Maybe something might happen.”

“Ooh, he’s from there? That’s awesome! You should totally go meet him. Maybe you could even go on a date or two-”

“A date?! Kim, he’s just a frie-”

“You stop right there, Dupain-Cheng! It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! All of us already had enough with Adrikins always calling you ‘just a friend’ when it’s pretty obvious how totally untrue that statement was. We don’t need you ending up just like him, thank you very much.”

“But he really is-”

“Yeah right. If he really is just a friend, then why do you guys stay up all night talking to each other? You always immediately check your phone whenever a notif comes up and you smile like a love-sick fool whenever you read his messages for you. And don’t get me started on the way you gush about him non-stop.”

“There is something beautiful in your music whenever you talk or even think about him.”

“Your smiles are much brighter compared to before the two of you got to know each other.”

“Markov and I also have a record of your heartbeat and we have observed your heart beating faster whenever we talk about this certain topic.”

“And it's been more than a year since you two have become pen pals. The two of you are now so close that it’s a wonder why you guys still haven’t video-called each other just because you insist for your first time seeing each other to be in person.”

“I think it’s rather romantic. They’ll look into each other’s eyes for the first time then BAM! They’re finally together. But I still plan on giving him a shovel talk the first chance I get. Can’t have him break my twin’s heart without him knowing I have the god of destruction on my side.”

“What do you mean shovel talk- I mean, what even gives you the idea that he thinks of me that way for you guys to assume that we’ll end up in… in that kind of relationship?”

“He’d be an idiot if he still hasn’t fallen in love with you.”

“Literally almost everyone I know had a crush on you or have you forgotten already that my boyfriend’s one of those people?”

“I know for a fact that that’s true since I’ve already admitted that one of my reasons why I began bullying you back then was because I had a crush on you.”

“I must admit, I think I also had the same feeling towards you at the beginning of our friendship until I really got to know Luka and you helped us get together.”

“Oh! There’s also that. Do you actually know just how many people you’ve helped get together, buginette? Alya’s even written an article about it at the Ladyblog of how you are also known as Paris’s own cupid and how all of the couples you’ve paired ended up living a happy life together.”

“Everyone’s been saying how Ladybug’s the next best person they can go to if they ever want to find love after Andre.”

“And yet every time you try to pair yourself with someone, the magic just doesn’t seem to work.”

“So we all decided that we’ll be Ladybug’s cupid and pair her up with the boy she just can’t seem to get off of her head.”

“Now, you coming or what? I won’t be taking the money you’ll be lending me if you say no. I’m only going with these dudes if you also come or else I’ll just end up getting bored when there’s no one who can go around the city with me.”

“...”

“““...”””

“Fine. You guys win—”

“““YES!”””

“So here’s the final plan for the break. Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris for Kim’s competition, while the rest of us will be going to America doing our own stuff—”

“With you finally meeting your pen pal.”

“Yes. Alright. I’ll go and meet my pen pal. And during the break, no thinking about anything miraculous related. If ever there’s an akuma, only those who’ll be needed will go. Max will bring us to the akuma’s location and if there is anything going on that we can’t be excused of or if the fight goes longer than expected, Alix will bring us back in time making it look like we just went to the toilets, the usuals. Any questions?”

“““Non.”””

“Good. Operation: Taking a Break is good to go.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Yay! Finally got to post it. So comments? What do you guys think and who do you think who is saying what? I know there will be new holders in S4, but I decided I’ll either make them a temp or they still don’t know the other’s identities bc of stuff, so yeah. Still thinking abt it. Adios (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

#first post #maribat #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #maridami #marinette dupen chang #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #team miraculous #miraculous team #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug

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hughjidiot · 3 years

Text

Jelly Beans, A Sashannarcy Oneshot

So I’ve written a number of Sashannarcy oneshots that I’ve posted over on AO3 and figured it was about time I start sharing them here as well. So here’s the first oneshot, in which Sasha brings some special candy to spice up the girls’ weekly game night

---

“BeanBoozled?”

Anne blinked in confusion as she beheld the colorful box Sasha was holding up. She and Sasha sat on the couch in the living room of the apartment they shared with Marcy, who at the moment was searching through the board game cabinet for a suitable game for their weekly game night.

“Picked it up while I was out running errands today,” Sasha said. “Thought it could be a fun way to spice up game night.”

“How are jelly beans gonna make game night more interesting?” Anne asked with a furrowed brow.

Sasha grinned and gave the box a shake, the candy contents rattling within. “Ah, but these are no ordinary jelly beans. There are ten colors, but twenty possible flavors. Each color can be something really good, or really really bad, and the only way to tell is to pop one in your mouth and hope for the best. Take a look.”

Sasha passed the box to Anne. Her eyes widened as she beheld the flavors on the back. “Birthday cake or dirty dishwater? Coconut or spoiled milk? Peach or barf!? Jeez, it’s like Russian Roulette with candy!”

“Nah, at least with Russian Roulette the odds are five-to-one in your favor,” Marcy said as she walked over to the couch, a huge stack of boxes in her hands. “With those it’s more like a coin flip. Heads you get a delicious bean, tails you get one that’ll make you wanna die.”

“Exactly,” Sasha said with a smirk and a mischievous glint in her eye. “What do you say, girls? Wanna raise the stakes this week?”

“Sounds potentially disgusting and humiliating,” Marcy said, setting the board games on the table and taking a seat on the couch next to Anne. She grinned. “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Anne said, smiling and handing the box back to Sasha. “What did you have in mind?”

Sasha hmmm’ed as she looked over the games Marcy was offering. “We need a simple game. Let’s see here... Clue, no… Cards Against Humanity, Settlers of Catan, Boss Monster… no, no, nope… Ah, perfect! Would You Rather.”

Sasha opened up the game in question, took out a stack of cards and began shuffling them as she continued speaking. “So here’s what I’m thinking: we each take turns drawing a card and asking an either/or question for the other two to answer. Anyone who picks the less popular option has to eat a random bean out of the box. Sound good?”

Anne and Marcy nodded. Sasha set the deck of cards down and drew the top one. “Cool, I’ll start us off then. Anne, Marcy, would you rather… punch a pilgrim or eat an avocado?”

Anne sputtered out a laugh. “What kind of question is that?”

“That’s just the game,” Marcy said with a shrug. “Some of the choices have logic to them, others are just completely random. I think I’d rather eat an avocado, they’re loaded with nutrients and can be used to make guacamole.”

“Avocado it is,” Sasha said. “Anne?”

Anne pursed her lips. “Well from what I remember from history class, the Pilgrims were kind of dicks… But I think I’ll go with the avocado too.”

“And those are your final answers?” Sasha asked her girlfriends. Anne and Marcy nodded. “Well congratulations! According to the card fifty-nine percent of people agree with you.”

Marcy and Anne high-fived. Sasha discarded the card and Anne reached for the deck to draw her own card.

“Okay Marcy, Sasha, would you rather… have no teeth or have no tongue?”

“Oof, that’s a tough one,” Sasha said. “Either one of those would make eating a pain in the ass.”

Marcy rubbed her chin. “I think I’d rather have no teeth. ‘Cause at least if you have a tongue you could still taste stuff.”

“But how would you chew with no teeth so you don’t choke and die?” Sasha asked.

“Well that’s what blenders are for. Plus no tongue means you can’t talk either.”

“Oh, that’s a good point. Yeah, I’ll go with no teeth too.”

Anne nodded, discarding her card. “You and sixty-three percent of people. Congrats girls, no one gets to try the beans yet. You’re up Marbles.”

Marcy drew a card. “Sash, Anne, would you rather… sing everything you say or dance all your movements?”

“Sing everything,” Sasha said with a proud smirk. “After all, I’m a heart-stomper~! Stompin’ on hearts~!”

Anne and Marcy laughed. “Oh man I haven’t thought about our old garage band in years,” Marcy said. “We should break out the instruments one of these days, for old time’s sake.”

“Yeah but it’s been so long we probably suck,” Anne said. “Dancing was always more my thing, so that’s what I’m going with.”

“Ooh, first time two of us have picked different options,” Marcy said. She reached down for the BeanBoozled box. “Those are your final answers?” The other two girls nodded. “And the jelly bean goes to… Anne!”

“Aw, for real?” Anne asked as Sasha pumped a fist in the air. Marcy nodded and showed the text on the card: fifty-six percent of people would rather sing as opposed to forty-four who’d rather dance. “Damn it. Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here…”

On the back of the box was a circle of the ten jelly beans with a built-in spinner. She gave the spinner a flick and watched it slow until it settled on brown. “Okay that’s… chocolate pudding or canned dog food? Oh boy.”

Anne picked through the box of candies, pulling out a single brown bean. She held the candy up between her thumb and forefinger, gulping audibly. “Well. Here we go…”

Marcy and Sasha watched with great interest as Anne plopped the candy in her mouth. She slowly chewed… and a smile graced her face.

“Oh thank God, it’s chocolate pudding!” She said, swallowing.

“Aw, well that’s no fun,” Sasha said with an exaggerated pout. “You were supposed to get a gross one so me and Marcy could laugh at your misfortune.”

“Hey, the night’s still young,” Anne said. “Don’t forget you could also end up with a gross bean, Sasha.”

“Well not this time, ‘cause it’s my turn to ask the question.” Sasha drew the next card of the deck. “Would you rather… be dangled over the edge of the cliff or forced to speak in public?”

“Dangled off a cliff,” Marcy said instantly.

“Really, Mar-Mar?” Anne asked flatly.

“You girls know how I am about public speaking! Why do you think I did most of the work during our group projects back in school and left the actual presentations to you two?”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about public speaking vs. being dangled off a cliff!”

“It doesn’t say anywhere that you actually get dropped!”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll still go with public speaking.”

“You and seventy-eight percent of people,” Sasha said. “Sorry Marcy, but the price of not having to speak in public is a gross jelly bean.”

“Totally worth it,” Marcy said defiantly. She picked up the box and flicked the spinner. “And I get… toasted marshmallow or stink bug.”

She plucked a brown-and-white bean from the box and plopped it in her mouth. She slowly chewed, and her neutral expression slowly morphed into disgust.

“Oh. Oh that doesn’t taste good,” she said. Her jaw moved again and she gagged, hand going to her mouth. “Oh that’s really not good!”

Anne tried to cover her giggle with a closed fist. “I don’t think she got the toasted marshmallow,” she said to Sasha, who openly laughed and slapped her knee. Marcy hunched over, face contorting.

“Ugh, it tastes like how stink bugs smell,” Marcy said with a grimace. “That sucked .”

“Could’ve avoided it if you just did a little public speaking,” Sasha said in a sing-song voice.

“Bite me, Sash,” Marcy grumbled. “Let’s see how you like it when you get one of those beans. Draw a card, Anna-Banana.”

Anne nodded and did so. “Would you rather own a mini horse or own a regular horse?”

“Ooh, I’d love a mini horse,” Sasha said with a smile. “They can actually be kept as house pets, right?”

“Yeah, but they still require a lot of upkeep,” Marcy pointed out. “If you’re gonna have a horse, it might as well be a full-sized one you can actually ride. I’d rather have a regular horse.”

“Well I’ve got good news Marcy, so would fifty-nine percent of people.” Anne said. Sasha crossed her arms with a hmph as Marcy smirked.

“Go ahead, take a bean Sasha,” Marcy said, holding the box out and giving it a taunting rattle.

“Fine, I will,” Sasha said haughtily. She accepted the box and spun the spinner. “And I got… buttered popcorn or rotten egg.”

Sasha quickly fished a yellow-and-white spotted jelly bean out of the box and quickly popped it in her mouth, face full of determination. Seconds passed as she chewed, Anne and Marcy watching her expression closely.

Finally, Sasha smirked.

“Buttered popcorn it is!” She said triumphantly. “Once again Sasha Waybright comes out on top.”

“Seriously?” Marcy plopped back on the couch, crossing her arms and letting out a frustrated exhale. “I can’t believe I’m the only person who didn’t get a good bean yet!”

“Cheer up Marbles, I’m sure you’ll get a tasty bean at some point,” Anne said. “Now draw the next card, this is getting good!”

---

“Green,” Marcy said. It was a few questions later and she’d picked another lower option, choosing to only have access to games online along with thirty-three percent of people, compared to sixty-seven percent who’d rather have access to only Youtube. The spinner had given her a light-green bean to sample. “That’s juicy pear or booger? Oh jeez…”

She picked a green jelly bean from the box and popped it in her mouth, chewing tentatively. She retched, cheeks turning as green as the candy she just ate.

“Oh God it’s booger,” she said with a retch, to Anne and Sasha’s shared amusement. “ Blech, plech! Oh that’s foul!”

“Okay, so you got two bad ones in a row,” Anne said between giggles. “I’m sure you’ll have better luck next time.”

---

“More people would rather drink tea than coffee, are you for real?!” Marcy asked, incredulous.

“Well coffee is an acquired taste, and there’s like a million different varieties of tea,” Anne pointed out, having picked the tea option to the question Sasha had given.

“Yeah but… coffee!”

“We get it Marcy, you love your bean water,” Sasha said. “But you still picked the lesser option, so it’s jelly bean time.”

Marcy gave the spinner a twirl and grimaced. “Strawberry banana smoothie or dead fish?! Oh this isn’t gonna be fun.”

She dug through the box until she found a lightly-colored orange bean with red speckles. With a heavy sigh she tossed it in her mouth, and her face contorted in disgust almost instantly.

“Dead - ack, hack - fish!” She said between gags. Anne looked like she was caught between sympathy and amusement, while Sasha was openly laughing.

“Man Marcy, those beans really hate you,” Sasha said, wiping a tear from her eye.

---

“Oh goodie, I got another one wrong,” Marcy said with a too-wide smile. “Silly me for thinking more people would rather die by drowning in a tsunami than throw themselves in lava.”

She let out a short, desperate laugh as she grabbed the box of jelly beans. “You know what? That’s fine, it’s fine. So what if three of three beans have tasted like garbage? One of them is bound to be good sooner or later. I mean if you flip a coin enough times, it’s bound to come up heads at some point. That’s just the law of averages, yeah.”

“Uh, I think that’s the gambler’s fallacy,” Sasha pointed out with a raised brow.

“Shut up and let me have hope, Sasha.” Marcy spun the spinner and giggled again. “Oh good, it’s peach or barf. That’s fine, that’s totally fine. Nothing to worry about, I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

She plucked another jelly bean out of the box, this one a darker orange with red flecks. She kept giggling, one of her eyes twitching.

“You sure you’re okay, Marcy?” Anne asked, concerned.

“I’m just peachy , Anne!” Marcy said, far too brightly. “Peachy like I’m sure this jelly bean will be!”

She stuffed in her mouth, chewing quickly. The smile remained frozen on her face even as her eyes began to water.

“Aaaand it’s barf because why not?!” Marcy doubled over, hacking and coughing. “Oh God it’s on the sides of my tongue!”

Anne gave Marcy a comforting pat on the back. Sasha just shook her head with a chuckle.

“Okay, maybe we should give BeanBoozled a rest before Marcy keels over,” she said. “It was funny at first, but now it’s just getting sad.”

“No no, I’m fine,” Marcy insisted even as she kept gagging. “I can get a good bean at some point, I know I can!”

Anne and Sasha exchanged uncertain glances as Marcy grabbed the next card, it being her turn to read the question. “Okay, would you - blech - rather be a Jedi master or an elite Saiyan?”

“Ooh, I’d rather be a Saiyan,” Anne said instantly. “I love Dragon Ball!”

“Well I guess I’ll be a Jedi,” Sasha said with a shrug. “At least I’ve actually seen Star Wars. I’ve only seen like a handful of Dragon Ball episodes.”

“Well sixty-eight percent of people agree with you, Sasha,” Marcy said. “Sorry Anne, looks like it’s your turn for a bean.”

Anne nodded and spun the box’s spinner with a swift finger flick. Around and around it spun until it landed on blue. “That’s berry blue or toothpaste.”

“Aw man, you got an easy one,” Marcy said with a pout as Anne picked a blue jelly bean out of the box. “Toothpaste doesn’t even taste that bad.”

Anne looked to Marcy as she plopped the bean in her mouth. Marcy, who’d been unfortunate enough to get four terrible-tasting jelly beans in a row. She smiled as an idea formed in her brain.

“Hey Mar-Mar,” Anne said, voice slightly muffled with her mouth full.

Marcy looked up, and didn’t even have time to react before Anne pulled her in for a surprise kiss. Marcy’s face lit up as she felt Anne’s tongue push past her lips, too stunned by the audacity to offer any sort of resistance. Anne pulled away after a few seconds, and Marcy felt a familiar lump in her mouth.

“Oh my God!” Sasha laughed, a splash of red on her own cheeks as she brought a closed fist to her mouth. “Did you really just…? You didn’t! ”

“Yeah, I totally did,” Anne said proudly, blushing herself. “Well Marcy? What’s the verdict?”

Marcy’s face was burning as she slowly chewed, a pleasant taste spreading across her taste buds. “Berry…”

#amphibia #amphibia fanfic #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sashannarcy

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