#my love languages are: tea and cooking but i sit on the counter and watch and get hugs and then we cuddle after | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

runnning-outof-time · 2 years ago

Text

I Did It Myself | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @evita-shelby ‘s follower celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) has to take matters into her own hands after she gets taken by Luca Changretta.

Warnings: language, violence (typical to series), weapons, character death

Word Count: 3272

A/N: this was so very fun to write ... I tried my hand at writing a character in the tune of your lovely OC, Eva, although I still think that Eva is still more badass. Congrats on your amazing milestone @evita-shelby !! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) had had enough. It had been weeks now and the Shelby family was still stuck in Small Heath. The war with the Changretta family was still raging on, and it seemed as if it had no clear end in sight. Even though Tommy had managed to kill three of his men, Luca himself was still alive, which meant danger was still imminent. This also meant that (Y/N) still had to be sequestered in her old Watery Lane home. And she hated it.

Tommy insisted that she only leave the premises to either go to see Linda, Polly, or Ada, who were occupying other houses on Watery Lane. It wasn't safe for her to leave the confines of that street...he reminded her of that daily.

But going from doing so much at Arrow House to doing practically nothing in Small Heath was incredibly hard for her to adapt to. She often looked forward to when it was time to cook meals, which was surprising because she hated cooking. There was nothing else to do, though.

Today, however, (Y/N) had something planned. Instead of sitting inside and watching the world go by through a window, she was going to go out and enjoy herself. What would she do? She didn't quite know yet. But what she did know was she wanted to get as far away from Watery Lane as possible while still being within the Small Heath protection limits. Tommy left early in the morning. He was spending most of his time over at Charlie's yard; planning with his brothers and the other men, or working on perfecting his gin recipe...which was still a little too sweet for (Y/N)'s liking.

She waited until mid-day to go out on her own, after making sure that she looked presentable, of course. This was the first time in weeks that she had a reason to wear something other than a house dress, and she surely was going to make the most of it.

The Lane was quiet; people were either off at work or content inside their house. This benefitted (Y/N), because it meant that she didn't have anyone who would be going to her husband with the intent of telling on her. Everything seemed to be going to plan.

The first place she went was to a café that sat just two streets over. She got herself some tea and some pastries, happy to be eating something other than her own bland cooking. After sitting and enjoying herself there, she continued on down a few more streets until she made it to her favorite consignment store in the city. Dolly's as it was called, was run by an elderly woman who, you guessed it, went by the name Dolly. She was always very friendly and happy to see her repeat customers. She and (Y/N) had developed a sturdy relationship over all of the times that the younger woman had visited the shop.

"(Y/N)!" Dolly cheered as (Y/N) walked through the door.

"How are you, Ms. Dolly?" (Y/N) asked with a wide smile, happy to see some familiar faces after being alone for so long, "it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It most certainly has," the other woman agreed with her, "I've been getting by. How have you been?" she then flipped the question back onto (Y/N), who had finally reached the counter.

"Oh, I've been fine," (Y/N) answered, letting out a slight sigh. "Things have been a bit hectic since Tommy's been dealing with a...a problem with the company, but we've been alright," she then disclosed, unsure of how much detail to go into.

Dolly's facial expression told her that she already knew more than what was just said to her. "Oh, yes...I've heard," she responded in a voice that clearly showed her shock of the situation, "those Shelby boys'll figure it out though...they always do," she finished her statement with some assuring words, which made (Y/N) smile. It was evident that the whole of Small Heath was still rallying behind the Shelby family, and that alone made (Y/N) feel proud.

"Here's hoping," (Y/N) said, nodding her head slightly before Dolly allowed her to go and peruse the wares that had been on display.

After finding two small jewelry pieces that she liked, (Y/N) made her way back over to the register. "Find anything special?" Dolly asked as the younger woman sat the items down on the counter.

"Just these two little things," (Y/N) responded as she pulled the correct amount of billnotes out of her purse, "I think they'll fit well with several of the dresses I have back at home."

"They're lovely pieces. You have such magnificent taste, (Y/N)," Dolly praised her, her kind words making (Y/N) smile slightly.

"Thank you, Dolly," the younger woman smiled before she pulled two more notes out of her purse and slipped them over to her. "For being a familiar face," she said, sending the older lady a wink.

"Thank you, darling," Dolly smiled widely, "take care now," she said her goodbye as (Y/N) turned and made her way back to the door of the shop.

She made her way back onto the street, deciding that she would walk even further from home and maybe sit on a bench at the park for a while. It was a beautiful day out...she was going to make the most of it.

She'd only gotten about a block down the road when someone called out to her: "it's rather brave of you to be out walking alone considering everything that's going on, Mrs. Shelby." It was a man, and his voice was coming from the passenger's side of the car that had slowed down next to her.

"I'm doing fine, thank you," she responded, barely glancing in their direction as she continued walking. She hoped that her disinterest in having a conversation would make them keep driving...although she couldn't quite shake her suspicions behind their reaching out. He spoke in an unfamiliar accent.

"Let us drive you home. Get you some place safe again," the guy called again as he continued to coast down the road alongside her.

"I said I'm fine," (Y/N) repeated her previous answer, stressing her words a bit more now.

"I don't think you picked up on it...this isn't up for your choice," he continued on, his voice dropping slightly.

"I said I'm ok," (Y/N) continued on with her insisting, stopping so that she could finally look at the man.

"Get in the fucking car," another man's voice came out of nowhere beside her, and the slightest glance in his direction made (Y/N) realize that he was holding a gun.

“Do you know who you’re messing with?” she asked, still standing her ground.

The men were persistent though. “We know exactly who you are, and that’s why you’re coming with us. So get in the fucking car,” the one standing beside her said as he then grabbed her arm and began walking her to the car’s rear door. She should have screamed...she knew she should have, but nothing would come out. So she gave in to their demands and got into the car. She’d have to fool them if she wanted to get herself out of this situation.

Some time later, the car pulled into the back lot of a hotel building. (Y/N) wondered how they were able to make it this far without being detected, but still managed to keep up her act. If things were going to go the way she was hoping, she’d have to make these men think that she was helpless and like putty in their hands.

Soon enough, she was sitting in a chair in an otherwise empty room. There was nothing physically holding her to the chair; the two men who brought her there were standing on either side of her. Her plan was definitely going as she’d hoped it to.

Not after long, the man, who up until this point she’d only heard about, entered the room. Luca Changretta. He was donning a rather nicely tailored three piece suit, and he had a cocky smirk on his face. Surely he felt like he had the upper hand in this whole feud now.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he asked as he came closer to where (Y/N) was sitting. “(Y/N) Shelby...what a pleasure it is to meet you. I see you haven’t been following your husband’s orders of staying off the streets,” he continued, tutting at her wrong doings.

“My husband isn’t in charge of what I do in my own time,” she snapped back at him, feeling annoyed at the fact that she was expected to do as Tommy said and not bat an eyelash.

“Oh, he’s not...but what you’ve decided to do with your own time is now going to kill him,” Luca stated, his words making (Y/N)’s eyes widen slightly. He only laughed at the reaction he’d caused. “You thought that we took you to kill you? No, sweetheart...we want to end this thing once and for all, and you’re going to be the one that brings him to us.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach drop at his words, and at once, the severity of the situation kicked in. She hadn’t thought of this possibility...that Luca would use her as bait to bring Tommy in, and she kicked herself for that. “You can’t possibly fool him like that,” she tried to defy him, hoping that her true emotions wouldn’t show.

“We’re surely going to try,” Luca was still grinning.

The door to the room opened before anything else could be said. “Mr. Changretta, Mr. Solomons is on the phone for you,” the man announced, making Luca finally look away from (Y/N).

“I’ll be right in for it,” Luca answered the man, who then left the room, before he turned back to (Y/N) and the help he had standing on either side of her. “Watch her, huh? This call shouldn’t take long,” he addressed the men before looking at the woman, “and you, think of what you’ll say to your husband...it’ll be the last time you speak to him.”

With that, Luca left the room. (Y/N) glanced up at the guards before she stared straight ahead at the door of the room. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling bubbling up in her stomach. There was a way out of this...she knew that much. But what it was wasn’t so clear to her yet. Yet.

Like Luca had said, it wasn’t long before he returned to the room. The cocky smirk was still apparent on his face as he came to a stop in front of (Y/N). “Our second option still needs some convincing, but we may not need it thanks to this darling right here,” he told his men before looking down at (Y/N), “have you decided what you’ll be saying?” he asked her then, his one eyebrow quirked.

“I have,” she kept her response short, nodding her head as she swallowed thickly.

“Good,” Luca nodded before snapping his fingers at the man on the left, “bring in the phone,” he ordered. The man nodded, leaving the room before hurrying back in with the phone in his hands, its chord trailing behind him. It only took a few seconds before Luca was talking with the receiver up to his ear. “Mr. Shelby...thank you for answering my call. I have someone here that wants to talk to you,” he said, his grin growing as he handed the receiver over to (Y/N). ‘Speak’ he mouthed to her.

“Hi...hi, Tommy,” she said, hating how shaky her voice was. At least it helped play into her charade.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy sounded extremely confused, “(Y/N), why are you with Luca Changretta?”

“His men found me. They brought me to where he’s staying. I’ll tell you where it is in a moment, but you need to come get me,” she said, speaking slowly as a way to try and keep her nerves down.

“I’ll come get you. Yeah, I’ll get you and then I’ll put a bullet in that fucker’s brains for thinking he could lay a hand on me wife,” Tommy responded with anger in his voice. She didn’t need to see him to tell how worked up he was getting. She took a deep breath to keep herself calm.

“Just come get me, ok?”

“I will. What’s the address, (Y/N)?” Tommy almost immediately insisted.

“It’s the one on Drinker Street,” she answered, not being too specific. Before Tommy was able to comment on that, she continued: “don’t forget to put the tea on before you leave...I might want some when I come home.”

Tommy froze after hearing her words. That was their sentence. The code they made up for ‘stay in place and I’ll get myself out of this’ so many years ago. Her tone was serious, so he knew he had to believe her. He had to stay back and hope that she’d be able to get herself out of this. “Ok,” he said as he exhaled a breath, “I’ll put the tea on and then I’ll come get you,” he played along just in case the lines were bugged. He knew that (Y/N) would understand what he was saying though. He wouldn’t be leaving his spot until he heard from her again.

“Ok. I love you, Tommy,” she added to make the situation more believable before the phone line went dead and the conversation ended. “He’s on his way,” she told Luca in a monotone voice, her words making his grin grow.

“Perfect,” he said, snapping his fingers at one of the guards before waving for the man to follow him out of the room. The man obliged, leaving (Y/N) in the room with the other guard.

“You realize you’ve just sent your husband to the slaughter,” the guard spoke up once the door shut, a similar cocky grin on his face.

“I do, and I’d like you to not mention it again,” she snapped, taking a deep breath then to try and control her emotions. She was going to need to be calm and collected if she wanted this plan she’d thought up to go as planned. A long period of silence went by before (Y/N) cleared her throat and spoke up again: “could you please give me my purse at least. My throat’s dry and I need a lozenge,” she made her ask believable by clearing her throat again.

The man let out a huff but pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the table that stood on the other side of the room. (Y/N) watched him carefully, grinning internally at the fact that her plan was going off without a hitch. Dumb man, she thought to herself as the guard grabbed the purse and brought it to her. “Here you go,” he said, extending it to her.

She accepted it and made it seem as though she was rummaging through it for a few moments. Then, in one swift motion, she grabbed the knife that she always kept in the bag’s bottom. She then stood up and took a few steps towards the man who was still retreating back to his original spot. She wrapped her one arm around him to stop his movements before swinging the other arm around so that she’d be able to plunge the knife into his chest. The man yelped, but (Y/N) quickly silenced him, pushing him against the wall and bringing her hand up to cover his mouth before she began repeatedly plunging the knife into his chest. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, repeating the motion a few more times for good measure before leaving the weapon stuck in his chest for good. The man’s eyes widened and dulled as she then stepped back from him, allowing him to slump lifelessly to the ground.

After taking a deep breath to contain herself, she wiped the splattered blood off of her face and then quietly walked towards the door. Opening it ever so slowly, she then peeked her head out to see that the larger room of the suite was indeed empty. She shook her head and grinned, realizing that her plan had worked out perfectly. There surely wasn’t an inkling in their minds that she could manage to escape. So she quickly managed to make her way down the side fire escape, moving as quietly as possible to get down to the ground from the third floor.

The sun was starting to set at this point, which made it easier for (Y/N) to slip into the alleyways that she knew like the back of her hand. Soon enough, she was making her way back onto Watery Lane.

She knocked on the door of her and Tommy’s home gently and waited for someone to come to it. A good bit of time had passed since she made the call to her husband, so she hoped that he’d returned to the house for the night.

Her hopes were answered moments later when the door swung open to reveal a very worried looking Tommy. “(Y/N),” he breathed, exhaling a sigh of relief as his eyes swept over his wife; who was covered in splattered blood. “You’re back...you’re ok,” he said, then taking her arms into his hands so that he could bring her in closer to him. “Are you ok?” he flipped the second part of his original statement into a question.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) answered, a dejected look in her eyes. She had had a long day and was more than ready for a warm bath and sleep.

“What about Luca? What about the men? Did you inflict any casualties?” he asked, his eyes still slightly frantic.

“I killed the man that was guarding me. There was no one else left in the hotel room when I left,” she explained to him, internally hating to he was now putting her through a questioning session.

“I’ll have men watching over you now...now that Luca’s realized that his plan didn’t go the way he wanted,” he assured her, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, Tommy. I don’t need men. I’m fine by myself, because I did all of that myself. There’s nothing your men can do that I can’t,” she told him, putting her foot down on the situation before she was finally able to begin walking to the stairs in the house. Before she was on the second floor, she stopped, “oh...Alfie Solomons called Luca while I was there. They’re concocting some sort of plan,” she informed him as she twisted back to look at him.

“No,” was all he said in response, a look of disbelief on his face. There was no way that Alfie would go behind his back again...not after what happened to him and his son.

“Yes,” (Y/N) insisted, nodding for an additional effect. “Believe me, or not...I don’t care at the moment. I’m going to go take a bath, see that Charlie is sleeping, and go to bed. I’ve had enough of everything for today,” she said, letting out a long sigh before she turned around again and continued up the steps to go and do just that.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @sunsetmourners @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

610 notes · View notes

malereader-inserts · 3 years ago

Text

Summer Flu

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader Summary: It’s a summer flu, though you hate to admit it Word Count: 676 Request: hello! i absolutely love your dad remus and son reader stories, they're my comfort fics. can i request a sick son reader who absolutely refuses to stay in bed and dad remus just trying to care for him? i'm currently sick from the covid vaccine and hate having to stay in bed the whole day. thank you so much! ❤

“Why the fuck are you up and about.”

“Language,” You croaked out as you let out a tired huff.

It’s funny, no one really sees Remus as a heavy swearer, but by Merlin’s beard - you’re the one having to remind him about it. Though, you don’t mind, because at times he finds it incredibly funny, as well as you too.

“(Y/n), kid, I love you to bits, but you’re sick and you’re supposed to be in bed.”

“It’s just a cold.”

“It’s just a cold,” Remus imitates you, but he made your voice slightly higher and it was almost mocking as you turn to glare at your dad, you weakly lift up your arm and give him the middle finger as he laughs loudly.

“You’re a prick, dad,” You mumbled as you turn your attention back to your mug, continuing to stir your tea.

“It’s not a cold, is it? It’s the flu.”

“No it isn’t.”

Remus rolls his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame, his eyes burning into your back, you try to shake off his stare but you cannot help but chuckle to yourself at his soft worried self.

“You’re just saying that because it’s summer and you’re embarrassed to admit that you caught the flu in the summer.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Stubborn as always.”

“I get it from you.”

You lightly tapped your spoon against the mug before throwing the spoon into the sink as you turned around, mug in hand as you hold it close to your lips, your back leaning against the kitchen counter. The two of you have a staring competition, waiting for the other person to break.

“Go to bed,” Remus says tiredly.

No one ever told him that raising a teenager would be so difficult, though he can hear the distant laughter of Lily and the image of her rolling her eyes - because as much he doesn’t want to admit it, he was probably just as much as smart ass like you, after all, he cannot help but smile that you’re a little bit too much like him.

“No.”

Remus sighs heavily, causing you to smirk smugly into your mug as you take another sip of your tea. He runs his hand through his hair, knowing he cannot win the argument against his own son - he stares into your eyes, you raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Alright, go sit in the living room and we can watch some reruns of your favourite shows.”

You smile in victory, though hacking out a cough before shuffling out of the kitchen to the living room. You make yourself comfortable as your dad starts to do some work, he may be a wizard but he likes doing things the mundane way, which often makes him think about his mother.

He starts the hob as he grabs the pot to start cooking you homemade soup. He waves his wand to get all the needed ingredients to the counter as he starts cutting up veg and such. As he lets the soup simmer, he walks past the living room to see you so engrossed in the television, as he continues to walk past he tries not to cringe as much to hear your sniffle and coughing very violently, letting out a defeated groan. He makes his way to a cabinet, full of blankets and extra pillows.

“Here,” he says softly, handing it to you.

You quickly placed the mug down as you gratefully take the comfort to the sofa as you get comfortable, knowing that you won’t move from that spot for a few hours. You turn away for a second and next thing your dad is giving you tissues and throat soothers.

“Thanks, dad.”

“No problem, demon child.”

You stuck your tongue out as Remus chuckles, affectionately messing up your bed hair. There was silence, you looked at your dad in confusion as Remus tilts his head, questioning why you were looking like that.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“What’s that whistling noise?”

“Ah, fuck, it’s the soup.”

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin x male reader #x male reader #platonic

499 notes · View notes

hotofficejunho · 3 years ago

Text

Squid Game characters coming home to f!reader cooking dinner

I always wanted to write my own characters x reader headcanons, so here I go!! Feel free to send submissions, I’d love to write more if you like it!

Also, sorry for the heteronormativity in some, I was in a cooking mood yesterday and felt these vibes, I don’t mean to encourage some ultimate gender roles, it doesn’t mean reader a housewife if they don’t wish to be so :D (This is aimed at fem reader but it may work just fine as gender neutral)

(other) warnings: some NSFW implications

Seong Gi-Hun

- Gi-Hun had a really shitty day and felt pretty down when going home, but the moment he saw you in the apron, cooking in the messy kitchen with music on and humming/dancing, his mood immediately skyrocketed

- he’d tune in with the atmosphere instantly, sing or dance with you, hug you from behind and ask what he can do

- he’s not good at cooking or baking and you know it, so you give him tasks he can’t really mess up, he tries his best but he’s mostly a moral support and makes you laugh

- he might rant about his day but more light-heartedly now, because you make him feel like everything is going to be just fine

- then he asks you about your day extensively, with lots of questions, he likes to listen to you and to mutually share everything about your lives

-you’ll probably end up in a dim light on a sofa, slowly nibbling on desserts or sipping wine, chatting, eventually making out... Everything was going to be just fine

Cho Sang-woo

- Sang-woo can occasionally seem unappreciative of what you do for him as he’s under a lot of stress

- he LOVES when you cook for him, and this love language works so well for him, but sometimes he forgets to thank you and generally struggles to find ways to let you know how much he values you

- some days he’s so stressed he downright refuses to eat and retreats to private, he might need this alone time sometimes

- that can cause friction between you - you leave him alone and wait for him to eat on his own, or you listen to his problems the entire time when he actually sits down and eats with you

- only later does he realize how terrible insensitive he is - sometimes it takes a shouting match or even tears

- then he works really hard to fix it, he holds you and kisses you lovingly, he caresses your hair and apologizes. He actually realizes repeatedly he could lose you and that secretely makes him panic.. he tries to be better

- maybe you have intense make-up sex afterwards, he’s thorough with both foreplay and aftercare

- next time you come home, he is the one cooking. he thanks you for looking out for him and swears to do the same for you

Kang Sae-Byeok

- sometimes the sight of you cooking makes her smile widely, sometimes she just quietly comes to you and gives you a slow kiss on the cheek or on the mouth

- she has a bit of trouble to receive acts of kindness like this, she gets flustered and humble but she’s quietly appreciative

- when the circumstances are just right, she joins you and you have a lot of fun - Sae-Byeok has an undiscovered talent for cooking/baking and she gets absorbed in the task when she’s focusing...you often silently admire her

- sometimes you get distracted in the middle and don’t finish cooking - you may happen to tease her in one way or another and she presses you against the table with the serious look that turns you on... or when you sit on the counter, she gets between your legs, presses you against herself and kisses you

- usually you eat on the sofa and maybe watch a film while you eat, and afterwards cuddle or hold hands

Hwang Jun-Ho

- honestly, he’s usually the one to cook. even if he comes from work exhausted, he cooks - he loves to see you enjoy what he makes and cooking also relieves his stress

- he prefers to have his own space when he does it himself, but when you beat him to it, he offers to help. you often decline so sometimes he takes a shower meanwhile or he makes cups of coffee/tea and chats with you

- he also “secretely” watches you when you cook. he’s really good at being discreet of course, but he mostly he knows you know he’s looking.. which is why you are dressed the way you’re dressed while he’s waiting for the meal so he can get a preview of his dessert...

- furthermore, he eyes you over dinner. he has these intense gazes which make you blush.. he frequently has this serious look that’s supposed to hide he wants you, but the eyes give it away

- sometimes, during of after dinner, this makes you come over there and sit on his lap.. sometimes that makes him take you in his arms and carry you straight to bedroom

The Salesman

- you know it: he gives you one of those wide grins of his...like you’re some obedient girl who’s exactly where he wants you to be. You don’t get offended, you know he respects you deeply, it’s just a game you play, and he’s smug like that

- he slowly sets down his briefcase, washes his hands and then watches you for a while

- maybe he pours himself a drink. he likes to observe what you’re doing. He’s often the one doing the shopping, or at least pays for it when you do it together, that’s on the nights he doesn’t treat you to a fancy dinner

- occassionaly he helps you, if you let him (he knows he’s good at cooking but he wouldn’t insult you by interfering if he thought you wouldn’t appreciate it) and he’s very focused when he does help

- let’s be honest...sometimes you have a quickie while you wait for something to cook, right there in the kitchen, and then get right back to it like nothing happened...

Jang Deok-su

- he loves when you cook for him, it’s one thing he doesn’t like doing himself but he does plenty other things for you instead

- he usually doesn’t comment on you cooking and sits down as you chat about your respective days, or he waits in silence

- when he comes home angry, which happens, you know the best thing to do is to let him cool down, have a shower or rant..

- he feels so much better after he eats, he’s so much easier to talk to. the thing is, he forgets to eat during the day and you know it’s what can make him so irritable

- afterwards, he’s like a different person. he smiles at you and admires you.. he can’t get enough of the food either, often going for seconds, and he asks about specifics about the meal sometimes

- he tends to have a drink and/or a cigarette after dinner, and he might take some time to relax after a busy day, watches TV or reads something... he likes when you come to him first, he likes the attention, so when you join him, most of the time he stops what he’s doing and makes it worth your time

Han Mi-nyeo

- when she comes home, usually she’s pretty loud. she talks about the latest thing that upset or enthused her. she raids all the cupboards and makes a noise, puts the TV on, gets changed into something baggy and comfortable and tries to eat snacks, which you sternly take away from her, pointing out you’re cooking

- she pouts, opting for a couple of cigarettes instead, sitting with her legs crossed and continues chatting or ranting

- she gets pretty excited about food she likes or when she happens to be in mood for the particular one and she thanks you, also often going for seconds

- when she isn’t in the mood, she might thank you but take her meal to privacy or refuse it. Eventually, though, she humbly comes back for it and is snappy when you point this out

- she often expresses her gratitude later, on random ocassions and in different ways. nearly always she washes up and tidies the place

- often when you leave after dinner, she comes over and crawls to the bed with you or joins you in the shower, she tells you you’re the best and she’s a bit obsessive about you, and if she’s feeling frisky (perhaps from alcohol she drank with dinner) she won’t keep her hands off you for the evening, you know she won’t

- sometimes she promises she’ll cook next time, but rarely does, she finds it boring and doesn’t have the patience.. but you appreciate the effort when she fixes up something mediocre because the proud look on her face is worth it

#squid game #Han Mi-nyeo #Jang Deok-su #seong gi-hun #ali abdul #kang sae-byeok #the salesman #Hwang Jun-Ho #squid game x reader #reader #headcanons

543 notes · View notes

star1117-archives · 2 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

➵ Pairing : OT8 x Gn!Y/N

➵ Genre : Fluff + Slight angst (?)

➵ W.C : 2370

➵ Warnings : N/A

𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚: a long convo over your favourite food

You gave a weak smile to Seonghwa when he turned around, tea towel draped over his shoulder and arms folded as he regarded you. His face was neutral, hiding any emotions he had at that moment. His tall figure leaned against the kitchen counter, the soft bubbling next to him the only sound filling the silence. You knew he felt something, you just couldn’t place what it was.

Gulping you looked away, biting the inside of your cheek before nervously licking your lips. That shelving unit you’ve had for two years was suddenly very interesting, your eyes scouring every detail like your life depended on it. You heard a sigh from the man infront of you and let yourself finally exhale when he turned back around to stir.

Your eyes drifted back to him as you watched him cook, his movements fluid and almost without thought from years of experience. He then turned around with a spoon, lips pouting as he blew on it softly. He offered it to you and you took it with a small smile, eyes closing with satisfaction when you put the spoon in your mouth. It felt like a firework had exploded in your mouth, the taste like nothing you’ve had before.

You gave Seonghwa a thumbs up and he nodded to you, turning the heat off and grabbing two bowl and another spoon from the cupboard. He then poured two bowls before sitting down and handing you one. You mumbled a small thank you as he poured two glasses of water. Before you could get a spoonful in however, Seonghwa spoke for the first time since he found you crying in bed.

“Start from the beginning Y/N, I’m not leaving here until you’re finished.”

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠: making something with you

Your eyes drifted down to where Hongjoong’s hands were nimbly moving, sewing a star onto the back of your jean jacket with surprising precision. You knew the art student liked to dabble in design too, but you didn’t know he was this brilliant at it. Music, art, design, how many hidden talents does this man have? It was getting ridiculous at this point. You lifted your head to look at Hongjoong when he started to speak.

“See, the white shapes really go well with the black since they’re contrasts. Just gotta add some splotches and lines with this white sharpie.”

He held the pen up with a smile, watching as your eyes widened with the loving gaze of a parent.

“Woah, those exist? That’s crazy.”

Hongjoong scoffed at this, holding the jacket up to track his progress before setting it down again.

“You know what I think is crazy? You believing a word that came out of that idiot’s mouth.”

You froze at this, looking at Hongjoong stupefied.

“…Huh?”

Hongjoong set the sharpie down, capping and turning to fully to face you.

“You’re not ugly in the slightest Y/N. You’re so beautiful and my heart hurts to seeing cry, especially over a dumbass bitch who’s clearly blind.”

He stroked a hair out of your face with a small smile before resting his hand on your shoulder. You on the other hand were shocked that he’d used such ‘vulgar language’ he usually nagged you for using.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and that will never change love.”

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨: suffocating hugs and watching your favourite show

You sat comfortably between Yunho’s large legs, head resting on his front as he combed your hair with one hand. The other was wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly to him as if you’d ever leave him anyways. You snuggled into him a little bit more, turning on your side so you could look up at him.

“Yunho?”

The sleepy man hummed, pulling you up higher and closer to him at the same time, tired eyes finding yours.

“Thank you.”

He smiled at you sweetly, yawning before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Your cheeks warmed and he chuckled, his strong arms easily turning you down, your face was completely buried in his chest. You struggled but he held you tighter, evil chuckles leaving the man.

“Yunho! My show!”

Yunho mimicked your voice as he spoke, the whine exaggerated tenfold.

“Y/N! My cuddles!”

Grabbing one of the snack bags from the floor you hit Yunho square across the face, slipping out of his embrace when his grip loosened. Standing up, you spun the bag, pretending it was nunchucks instead of mini-pretzels. Yunho stood up, the shocked look on his face soon turning to one of vengeance as he charged at you, watching gleefully as your eyes turned from smug to fearful.

He tackled you onto the floor, turning his body so you fell on top of him. When you struggled yet again he flipped the both of you over, giving your face soft kisses as you squirmed and tried to push him away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay?! Just leave me alone!”

You had descended into a torrent of giggles, trying to catch the male’s face. When you eventually did he strained against you, lips still puckered as he made kissy noises at you. You held him for long enough however, since Yunho eventually gave up and collapsed next to you. His leg wrapped around your waist however, pinning you down as he snuggled into your warm embrace. His eyes were starry as he looked up at you.

“I love you so fucking much, you funky little bean.”

You glared at him, indignant as he smiled teasingly up at you.

“I’m not short! You’re just enormous!”

“Sure, of course sweetheart. You’re very tall, I’m sorry.”

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠: reading together in a cosy bookstore

Looking up from his book, Yeosang took in your features quietly as you scanned the words on your page. He watched inquisitively as your finger dance along the page, followed by your eyes as your lips moved silently in sync. Your furrowed brow brought a smile to his face, the doctrine in 1984 clearly not making sense in your mind. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, watching happily as your features softened from the unexpected display of affection. Usually Yeosang wasn’t one for pda, so his simple action warmed your heart more than anticipated.

“What was that for?”

Shrugging, Yeosang flipped the page of his book with a small smile as he settled back into his seat.

“Nothing, just couldn’t really help it. You’re too cute sometimes.”

You felt your face become heated at this, giggling quietly as you pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips in return. The boy simply flushed, his ears tinted red as he brushed a few tendrils of hair behind them.

“You’re too much sometimes.”

Pouting you hugged the boy, watching as he struggled to concentrate on his book whilst your head was laid on his arm.

“I actually like to consider myself porridge.”

Yeosang turned to you with a confused frown, almost mimicking yours prior to you giving up on the doctrine.

“What? Did you just say porridge?”

You nodded happily and gave him a kiss on his rosy cheek, smiling proudly at your theory.

“See, I’m not too bitter and I’m not too sweet. Porridge!”

Despite the absurdity of your words, Yeosang was happy to see that you’d taken your mind off of what was bothering you, now indulging in the small moments like you usually did. Stroking a hair out of your face, he ruffled your hair before pressing a kiss to your nose.

“You’re so silly sometimes, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

𝐒𝐚𝐧: stargazing on the roof of your house together

“You know, talking isn’t as horrible as you make it seem.”

You turned to San as he said this, resting your head on his arm and snuggling closer with a half hearted chuckle.

“I beg to differ, I definitely prefer this beautiful view.”

Turning to face him, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re my favourite view though, always and forever.”

San chuckled quietly at this, reciprocating your gesture before curling an arm around your waist. Letting out a sigh he rested his head on yours, closing his eyes with a serene smile.

”That was a good one, so I’ll let you off for now.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, snuggling that impossible inch closer to share his body heat.

”You’re so warm baby..”

”It’s because my heart burns with my passionate love for you.”

You hit him with no malice behind it, yawning and trying to refocus on the stars as your eyelids drooped.

”You know, I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you. So thank you, San.”

Letting out a chuckle, San rubbed your side in a comforting manner, letting out a small yawn of his own.

”It’s okay babe, to be honest I don’t know where I’d be without you by my side. I think I… I lo..”

Turning to face you once again, San scoffed when he was met with a snoring you, your mouth agape slightly. He shook his head with a warm smile, and pushed a few hairs out of your face.

“God, you’re just completely hopeless, aren’t you..”

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢: going to your favourite places

You chuckled as Mingi put a coin into the one-punch machine, watching quietly as he turned to you with a smug grin.

“Watch this.”

You waved him away with a hand, pressing the button to release the punching bag.

“Yeah yeah, less talking more hitting.”

Wiggling his eyebrows at you with a small smile, Mingi shook out his body before putting his fists up, eager to show off. He soon stopped however, getting down and lunging a few times.

“Mingi… what the fuck are you doing?”

Turning to you with an incredulous expression, Mingi gestured wildly in his usual loud manner.

“I gotta make sure I’m ready Y/N! You wouldn’t know anyways.”

Raising an eyebrow, you crossed your arms.

“You gotta prepare for a one-punch machine?”

Mingi rolled his eyes at your words, bringing his arms up once again.

“Yes I do sarcastic Sammy, I very much need to. If you wanna prove me wrong, feel free to.”

With a smirk you held your hand out with a quirk of your eyebrow.

“How much you wanna put on it?”

Mingi took his wallet out, taking out a 20 and placing it in your hand.

“20 quid, take it or leave it.”

“Deal.”

Scrunching up the note as you clenched your fist, you squared up with the machine and let a punch hurtle out, striking it square in the centre. Mingi stood there awestruck as the numbers surged up, eventually stopping at 759.

“What the fuck..”

Turning to him with a bright smile, you patted his shoulder in an almost patronising manner.

“Wanna go again? Draining you of your money is definitely putting me in a better mood.”

𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠: distracting you with heated debates

“Are you fucking insane?! Mint choco is like someone spat bits of chocolate into toothpaste!”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at this, freezing his actions and dropping his spoon.

“You take that back right the fuck now.”

You scoffed and grabbed your chocolate brownie ice cream from the freezer, then pulling a bottle of coke from the fridge.

“No I will bloody well not, because it’s the truth.”

Glaring at you, Wooyoung gestured at the two items in your hands.

“So what, that abomination of a combination is normal?”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded.

“Bars. And yes, loads of people make ice cream floats for your information.”

Standing up indignantly, Wooyoung pointed to your ice cream.

“Yeah with fucking vanilla you idiot. Using chocolate brownie is like fucking sociopathic or something, it just doesn’t make any sense.”

Pointing at him with the spoon, you still defended your choices.

“You’re the idiot who’s using words that you don’t even know the meaning of!”

”Prove it!”

You scoffed with a triumphant smile, glad that his ego had gotten him into such a trap.

”Spell sociopathic.”

Stuttering in disbelief, Wooyoung turned away and threw his spoon into the sink, tossing his empty tub into the bin.

”Spelling doesn’t equal understanding smartass!”

Putting a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder, you squeezed it in mock understanding.

”It’s okay, I don’t love you because you’re smart Wooyoungie. I love you because of your big ass heart… And maybe your big ass too.”

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨: listening to your favourite songs

Settling a glass down next to you, Jongho pulled the headphones off your head carefully. When you simply grabbed them again to pull them back on, he held your hand. He tried to swallow any ill-intended emotions when you glared at him, trying to push his hand away. It was understandable though, Jongho wanted to talk and you didn’t. How else were you gonna shut his words out and drown out the bad thoughts simultaneously.

“Hey, relax. I just wanna listen.”

You looked up at him in suspicion, still not letting go of your headphones but now not straining. Jongho held up the speaker in his hand, trying to convince you of his sincerity. It seemed to have done the trick, since you turned the headphones off and held out a hand for the speaker. When Jongho was about to place it in your hand, you pulled it back slightly.

“No strings attached? No hidden contract?”

Chuckling, Jongho let the speaker fall infront of you on the mattress.

“Do I look like a shady business owner? Surprisingly I don’t work for the mafia, Y/N.”

You scoffed at this, looking him up and down with a small smirk.

“You wear a suit and tie whenever you can, kinda shady in my opinion.”

Jongho sat down next to you, taking the discarded speaker and turning it on since you wouldn’t.

“That’s called class, but of course you wouldn’t know about that.”

Holding a hand to your chest you gave him a look of mock-hurt.

“Ow.”

Tutting with a smile, Jongho ruffled your hair despite your scowl as he did so.

“Come on then, play your angry emo music and we can be depressed together.”

50 notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

Proper Present | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by @beiahadid: After the war, you and Draco are able to live your lives the way you want. You both get married, you get jobs, you live in your own house, and soon the idea of starting a family rolls around. How does Draco react when he finds out you are pregnant?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language, pregnancy, FLUFFYYYY

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: SCREW IT DRACO IS A HEALER POST WAR THERE I SAID IT!!!!!!!!! Happy Monday, beauties! Today I’ll have a few fics out hopefully. Probably this one, a few headcannons, and maahaaybe a longer fic if I am up for it.

Slowly peeling your eyes open, you let your eyes adjust to the morning light that streams in from the windows of your home. The silk sheets wrapped around you have never felt so good. You stretch your arms up, letting all the kinks out from your restful night’s sleep as you inhale a deep breath. As you lay down, you think of how lucky you were to be laying here.

After the war, things changed for everyone. You had finished your time at Hogwarts and that meant that you and your boyfriend, Draco, wanted to leave as soon as possible. Neither of you hesitated to get out of there, leaving it all behind. Draco wanted nothing more than to leave his parents behind, never being able to forgive his father and mother for putting him and you in direct danger. If you had died, Draco wouldn’t have forgiven himself for letting his parents behave in such a manner. The two of you left Hogwarts and wanted to go somewhere quiet and remote, where you could get away from madness for a while. Draco had found a small cottage in the countryside that wasn’t far from the city, so you could commute to work if need be. It was perfect.

Draco didn’t want to waste any more time. Shortly after leaving Hogwarts, you two were married. The ceremony was just between you two, intimate like you both had hoped it would be. During your wedding, Draco promised that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe, happy, and healthy. He wanted nothing more, but to be able to provide for you and him. The two of you got jobs, Draco as a Healer in the city and you as a herbologist. This way the two of you would be able to work in similar departments, which meant you worked in adjacent buildings with similar work schedules. Some times your work required you to come into the hospital where Draco worked and those days were the best, working beside your husband, both taking care of people.

You sigh out a happy breath, enjoying the morning sun on your skin, warming you up through your night clothes. As you sit up, your master bedroom door opens to reveal your husband, a large bouquet of flowers in hand and a mug full of hot tea. “Happy Birthday, darling,” he beams as your heart flutters. You had nearly forgot it was your birthday. You were so caught up in work this week that you forgot that today was your special day. Draco places the mug of tea on your nightstand and hands you the flowers are you graciously accept them. He sits on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. “Do you feel older?” he laughs as you sip on your tea carefully.

Rolling your eyes you say, “No and thank Merlin for that.” You both chuckle lightly as you lean forward and give him a sweet kiss on his lips. “Thank you, darling for the flowers and tea.”

“That’s not all,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “There are more birthday surprises on the way.” You sigh, knowing that Draco loved giving gift to show his love for you. It was very kind of him, but you didn’t want him wasting his hard earned money on you. Although he still had remains of the Malfoy fortune and he knew that he could ride that out for the rest of your lives, he didn’t like using that money anymore since he knew it was blood money. Instead, Draco kept that money tucked away and would only touch it in case of an emergency. “Nothing too crazy, don’t worry. Just a few special things for you,” he speaks, kissing your nose. “No come on, I’m making you breakfast.”

Draco starts into the kitchen as you take your time, rolling out of bed, sliding on your slippers and silky robe. As you tighten the fabric around you, you walk down the halls of your home, before walking past an empty room. You had lived in this house for almost three years now, but you and Draco hadn’t touched this room since you had moved in. It was a nursery room. Although you and Draco hadn’t been actively trying for children, the thought of a child made you excited, but nervous. When you were still students at Hogwarts and you talked about your future, Draco never mentioned that he wanted children and when he brought up children, it was always followed by something negative. But you knew that stemmed from his parents and the way they raised him. Draco didn’t want to raise a child like his father and mother did him. If Draco was going to be a father, he was going to step up to the plate and provide for them in a way that his father never could.

You pull yourself out of your thoughts as you pass the nursery and head into the kitchen, as Draco hovers over the stove with eggs cracked in a pan and toast in the toaster. You sat on the dining room counter as he cooked, enjoying the sight of your husband cooking for you, him being very careful not to burn or overcook anything. This in itself was a great gift; spending quality time with your husband on a lazy weekend morning.

------

Throughout the morning, Draco gifted you small things here and there. A new pair of shoes, some more books that you were looking at from the shoppes, a basket of sweets, all were very thoughtful and you can tell Draco had planned out these gifts carefully. The middle of the day was disturbed when Draco was called into work on an emergency call. He groaned as his pager buzzed. “I’m sorry, darling, I wish I didn’t have to go,” he tells you, rising from the couch.

You softly smile at him, rising to kiss him. “No need to apologize. You have a job, love, go. Besides, you know I’m not crazy about my birthday. Go save someone’s life,” you send him off with a kiss as he throws a wink your way before leaving your house, hearing the car drive off.

Standing in the middle of your living room, you let a sigh out. You didn’t lie to Draco, you didn’t care much about your birthday, but you didn’t like being alone with your thoughts in this house. As you clean up the dishes in the sink, you can’t help but feel like there is something calling you from down the hall. It’s like a magnet pulling you down the hallway as you land back at the empty nursery.

You stare at the door to the nursery before mustering up enough courage to push the door open. Nothing is in the room. It is completely empty. White walls, hardwood floor, nothingness that fills it up. Slowly and carefully, as if not to disturb the air, you enter the room. Within seconds, you start imagining what it would be like to have a child with Draco. You knew that your child would look like Draco, no doubt, his genetics were far stronger than yours. You can imagine wrapping your baby up in blankets as it cooed at you. You can see Draco holding your child you so much delicacy and care, afraid of the baby. You laughed at the thought. You know that Draco would teach your child so much about everything under the sun; life, magic, family, anything and everything.

It isn’t until you feel the tear running down your face that you notice you are crying at the thought of having a chid with the man you love more than life. You wanted a baby. It felt right. The timing was right, you had a house, you could provide for the child, you knew that now was the time.

You stood in that nursery for what felt like forever. You didn’t even notice how long you were in there until you heard the front door open and keys hitting the counter. “I’m back, love,” Draco calls, but you don’t budge from your position in the nursery. “What are you doing in here?” he laughs, walking into the room with you. You just turn to him with a small smile on your lips. “What are you smiling about?” he laughs as he pulls you into his arms, arms around your waist.

“I want a baby,” you whisper. His eyes widen, not expecting that answer. “We’ve waited for so long and I think we’re ready...I want a child with you, Draco,” you tell him as you stroke his hair, gently soothing him.

Draco lets a small sigh escape his lips as he surrenders to your touch. His eyes light up as you smile at him, knowing that if a child will make you happy, he’d give you ten thousand children. “Well,” he starts. “I do owe you a proper birthday present.”

With a giggle, he pulls you into your master bedroom, door shutting behind you before he attacks your lips with his. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to you as his grip on you becomes tighter and tighter. You push his jacket off of him as he kisses your neck feverishly. A trail of clothes leads to your bed now as he pushes you back on the bed, him climbing on top of you, kissing your neck down to your chest, leaving sloppy wet mouth mouthed kisses all over. His hands grope your breasts outside your thin bra before he unclips it, throwing it to the side, his warm hands now cupping the exposed flesh. You let your fingers run through his white blonde hair, tugging at his roots. He tugs your underwear down so it dangles around your ankles.

Draco traces your lips with his finger before you suck on his two fingers, swirling your tongue around them as a smirk plays on his lips. “Good girl,” he huskily whispers before pulling his fingers out of your wet mouth and into your wet pussy. You let a moan hum on your lips as he pumps his fingers in and out of you as he watches you roll your head back. “You like that?” he pushes his fingers in and out of you, increasing his speed as you moan in response. Draco then let his thumb slowly drag across as your clit as you buck your hips up. He loved teasing you just to get a rise out of you; he knew how much you hated that. “Beg,” he demands.

Screwing your eyes shut, you say, “Please, fuck, please” breathlessly through pants. Obeying, Draco starts making small circles on your clit as he continues to finger fuck you, your mind is reeling at the sensation. Draco presses your hips down to prevent you from bucking your hips up. He wanted to save that for when he was fucking you senseless with his cock. Your thighs began to shake, your sign that you were close to releasing all over his long fingers. “Baby,” you pant. “Fuck, I’m close.”

With a few more pumps, you come all over Draco’s fingers as he continues to pump, making sure you are riding out your high deliciously. When you catch your breath, Draco pulls his fingers out and stick them in his mouth, licking up your wetness. He then pulls his boxers off and hovers over you before kissing you gently. “I love you,” he speaks, interlacing your fingers before pushing himself into your heat as he sighs.

You feel your walls tighten around his member as you squeeze his hand. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts to move, in and out slowly and gently. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin before dragging down his back as he picks up his rhythm. “I love you,” he repeats, his hips picking up a familiar pace as you dig your nails deeper into his skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he continues as he is pounding into you.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as your hands tangle in his hair. “I love you,” you tell him back as his rhythm becomes irregular, signaling he was close to releasing inside of you. “I love you, baby.”

“Shit,” Draco pants before you feel him release inside of you, filling you up. Draco’s thumb finds your clit again, rubbing figure eights into you, making you come for him for the second time. The two of you are breathless as he pulls out of you, laying next to you before pulling you into his chest. “I love you,” he kisses the top of your head as you cuddle into his bare chest, pulling the covers over the both of you. “I’m sorry I never said it before, but I want a family with you. I want that for the both of us.”

You smile at your husband, placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you. There is no need to apologize. We weren’t ready before. But now, I want to be parents. We’re ready.”

-------

A week and a half passes and you are sat at work, talking amongst your colleagues. As one of your colleagues talks about shipping a large amount of herbs to wizarding schools across the country, you can’t help, but feel your body temperature suddenly spike and your mouth become dry. You peel your laboratory coat off and tie your hair back in a ponytail in order to alleviate some of the heat, but nothing seems to work. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?” one of your colleagues asks. “Your face is white as parchment.”

Giving a small nod, you say, “Yeah, I’m just hot. Is anyone else?” Your colleagues just give you confused looks. “I’m alright I’m just...” you trail off as your head starts to spin.

One of your colleagues grabs you, seeing your balance shift. “Let’s get you some water and something to eat,” she suggests, but the thought of food makes your stomach churn.

“Just water is fine,” you insist. “Thank you.”

As you sit there your colleague and friend, Jessica, looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Jessica asks. “You never are like this,” she scoots next to you. “Do you need to go next door to the hospital? Just so they can check out to see if anything is wrong?”

That’s when it hits you. “Jess, do you mind coming with me. I think I know what’s going on, but I just need to be sure of it.”

Within minutes, you are in the hospital and you recognize the woman at the desk, Delilah, who sends you a smile as you enter with Jessica. “Hi, (Y/N). Are you here for Draco?” she asks, knowing that’s why you usually came in.

“Actually, D,” you look around. “Do you know if you have any...muggle pregnancy tests leftover?” you ask her in a hushed tone.

Her eyes and Jessica’s widen. “You think you’re pregnant?” Jessica scream whispers. “Have you and Draco been trying?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Draco and I both said we wanted to try and have been trying, but it’s only been a bloody week since we started. Do you think it’s possible?”

Delilah comes back with a small box and hands it to you quickly. “It’s very possible,” she tells you. “The bathroom is down the hall. We’ll be out here if you need us, just give us a shout.”

You walk down the hall, your heart beat is thumping in your chest. How was it possible that you were pregnant a week and a half after having sex for the first time unprotected? This just seemed unreal. You close and lock the bathroom door and pee on the stick before placing it on the counter. “Wait three minutes?” you huff. This was about to be the longest three minutes of your life. “Bloody hell.”

You sit on the toilet seat, staring at the pregnancy test in front of you, tapping your foot anxiously. What if it said pregnant? That’s what you wanted, right? A baby with the man you loved most. But what if you weren’t ready? What if you jumped the gun? What if Draco didn’t really want a baby with you?

Thoughts race through your mind before you look at your watch anxiously. Three minutes was up. You let out a shaky exhalation before rising and closing your eyes. “It’s alright, (Y/N),” you calm yourself down. “Just look.”

Picking up the test, you flip it up to see two dark lines.

I’m pregnant you think to yourself.

Tears fill your eyes and a huge smile is on your face. You were going to have a baby. Draco was going to be a father. You were going to be a mother. You let a happy sob escape your lips. You were pregnant.

“(Y/N)? It’s been three minutes,” Jessica calls from the other side of the door. You swing the door open with tears in your eyes and large smile on your face. “Merlin,” she whispers. “You’re pregnant.” She engulfs you in a hug before looking to Delilah.

Delilah’s face jumps with excitement. She picks up the desk phone and announces over the speaker system. “Can Dr. Malfoy please report to exam room number four right away? Dr. Malfoy, report to exam room four,” Delilah speaks as you giggle with excitement. She hangs up the phone, “Go!”

You run to exam room four, shutting the door, bubbling with excitement, bursting at the seams waiting for your husband to come in. What was he gonna say? What was he going to do?

“Alright, hi there I’m Dr. Malfoy and I-” Draco sees you standing in the exam room, hands behind your back, clutching onto the pregnancy test with an iron grip. “Oh, darling! What are you doing here?” he asks with a big smile, walking over to you to kiss your cheek. He notices your hands behind your back. “Uh oh. What are you up to?” he chuckles.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you speak, “I need to tell you something.” Draco’s face fills with nerves as he shakes his head. “Or I can show you.” He furrows his brows as you take one of his hands and then place the pregnancy test in his hands. He looks at it confused for a moment before reality hits him in the face. “I’m pregnant...” you start to cry.

Draco is shocked. He doesn’t say anything which brings you anxiety. But then the biggest smile comes across his face as he looks up at you. “You’re pregnant,” he whispers, tears starting to pool in his eyes. You happily nod, covering your mouth to hold back your giggles and sobs. “You’re pregnant,” he repeats with so much happiness and laughter. “We’re going to have a baby?!” he screams before engulfing you in the biggest hug, spinning you around as you wildly laugh. He puts you down and kisses you hard as you hold him tightly. “I’m going to be a dad,” he cries as you hold his face.

“You’re going to be a dad,” you repeat, crying. “You’re going to be the best bloody father,” you tell him, making his heart swell at your words. “We’re going to be parents.”

Draco buries his face in your neck as you hold onto him tight, his grip unbreakable on you. “You’re going to be the most wonderful mother,” he whispers in your ear as you smile into his laboratory coat. “We’re going to be the best parents,” he pulls away to look at the brightest smile you have on your face. “We’re having a fucking baby!”

You laugh at him before he dashes out of the exam room and takes to the halls. “My wife is pregnant!” he yells down the halls of the hospital, earning cheers from his fellow Healers. This baby was in for the ride of their life.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

941 notes · View notes

supercorps-imaginesetc · 4 years ago

Text

The Five Love Languages with Agatha Harkness

Masterlist

I got this idea while I was supposed to be paying attention in class. These are little snippets of reader’s relationship with Agatha (and soon to be other characters as well) showing how the five love languages come up in the relationship. I hope you all like this! - Admin Cam

Warnings: brief mentions of nsfw things under the physical touch section

The Five Love Languages with Agatha Harkness

Words of Affirmation

One of the first things you notice when you begin getting to know Agatha is the way compliments flow from her lips whenever you’re near her

It seems like the woman has made it her goal to do whatever she can to make sure your cheeks always hold a rosy tint to them

Agatha gives quite a few people nicknames but no one more so than you

Even after you and her are in an established relationship this still happens in public spaces as much as it does in the privacy of your own home

She comes home to you working in the garden, “What are you working on over there, hot stuff?”

Huffing in annoyance as she gets back from working on something, “Why can’t everyone be as perfect as you? They’re all idiots.”

Greeting you in the morning as you fix her a cup of coffee/tea, “What would I do without you, my dear”

She likes adding “my” in front of a lot of her nicknames for you because you are in fact hers

“You look absolutely ravishing in that, my love”

After years of being with her, she still compliments you like she did from the very beginning

Agatha Harkness will never not think that you are the most beautiful person in the world

So when she says it she means it completely

“Darling, you simply are the most beautiful person I’ve ever set my eyes on”

“Agatha, you’ve been around for centuries”

“Obviously that means that I must know what I’m talking about doesn’t it, hot stuff”

Physical Touch

Agatha LOVES physical touch

It’s right up there with her love for words of affirmation

A hand placed on the small of your back as the two of you walk down the street

Or brushing her hand along your waist as she walks past you to get something

She loves holding your hand

It’s a way of showing people that you’re hers and she simply loves the feel of your hand in hers

She likes it when you squeeze her hand to let her know that you’re there

You help her calm down when she’s about to go off on someone

You’re pretty much the only person who can do this

At night she falls asleep with her arms around you because of course she’s a big spoon

She’ll let you cuddle her sometimes though

Agatha loves when the two of you are sitting together and you rest your head on her shoulder

She’ll wrap her arm around you and place a kiss on the top of your head

Agatha also loves to touch you and be touched in some not so innocent ways

She loves to simply ravish you

Placing kisses all over you

She definitely does not complain when you run your hands through her hair

and pull slightly on it when she’s in between your legs or in the middle of a heavy make out session

Agatha simply loves having her hands all over you at all times

And she loves when your hands are all over her as well

Receiving Gifts

Agatha cherishes anything you give her and I mean anything

She might brush it off in the moment, but you know she loves it by the look in her eyes

You know she’s a big softie at heart

You love giving her flowers

And every time you give her flowers she makes sure to save at least one of them and puts them in a safe place

She has a little box/chest in the basement filled with dried out flowers that you have given her, some of them even going back from your first dates

She hasn’t ever told you about her collection, but one day you were looking for something and stumbled upon the flowers

It’s safe to say your heart soared at the sight

She also loves to shower you in gifts

Bringing you back little trinkets from anywhere if she has to travel without you

She gives you antique jewelry for anniversaries along with a card that has a little of message of her love written in her perfect, elegant penmanship

Quality Time

Agatha loves spending time with you whenever she gets the chance

Some of her favorite times are mornings where the two of you can just lay in each other’s arms wasting the morning away

The two of you spend every morning together

Drinking your coffee/tea together each morning

Agatha reads the morning paper while you get breakfast together or make you and her tea/coffee

“Dear, what’s a three letter word for indignation?”

Going on walks around town together

She loves teaching you things about magic

She could spend hours working with you on brews and spells

She also loves spending time with you like normal people do

Sitting on the couch watching television together

Arguing over who gets to pick the movie

“You picked last time!”

“And the last time you picked the movie was awful”

You end up pouting and she gives in to you, letting you pick

Laying your head in her lap as she tells you stories of her life, running her fingers through your hair

Sitting on a porch swing looking up at the stars together

Reading in bed together, each of you always keeping a book or magazine on your respective night stands

She hates cooking but she’ll help or harass you in the kitchen as you cook or bake

Agatha sits on the counter and waits until she can lick the spoon and bowl like a little kid

Sticking her finger in the batter to get a taste

You shake your head and laugh at her childish antics, “I guess I have to satisfy your sweet tooth some how”

She leans over and kisses your cheek, “Oh you’re plenty sweet for me, darling”

Acts of Service

“Dear, let me handle the dishes tonight. You made an excellent dinner,” she says coming up from behind you to take your place at the sink

Brewing potions and casting spells to make you feel better whenever you’re under the weather

“Try this, my love. It should make you feel better in a pinch”

Whenever you’ve had a hard day, she does anything she can to make it better

Magically cleaning the house, if it’s a mess

Organizes your desk for you

Running you a hot bath

Lighting candles to set the mood

She’ll even cook just for you

And she hates cooking

You have Agatha wrapped around your little finger, so of course she would do anything you asked of her

269 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

All The Stops

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Could i request a Creeper fic? Like you're sick and he is taking care of you. Neti pot and secret family soup recipes and all lol.

Warnings: language, Creeper being Extra but we love him for it

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I love Creeper so much. I love writing for the sappy sweet side of him, too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @petlaufeyson (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!)

You’d told him not to worry, to stay away so you didn’t end up getting him sick too. Whatever it was that you had left you feeling like you got hit by a semi. Your whole body ached, and you could hardly breathe out of your nose. What had started off as a cold you thought you could just ignore and brush off, very quickly turned you into a zombie.

You were caught between trying to down-play it so he wouldn’t worry, and over-selling it so he would leave you alone and not end up getting sick himself. You should have known better, though. He was far too clingy and hell-bent on taking care of you to stay away. It was sweet, and you appreciated it, but you didn’t want both of you to end up feeling like death warmed over.

When you heard the knock at the door, you knew exactly who it was. You let out a long sigh as you forced yourself up off the couch. You folded your arms over your chest as you shuffled to your front door. When you opened the door, you came face-to-face with Creeper. His eyes were full of concern as he stood on your front steps, large cardboard box in his arms.

“You didn’t tell me you were this sick,” he said as he walked inside.

You shut the door behind him as you replied, “Because I knew you’d do…all of whatever this is.”

He made his way to your kitchen, setting the box down on your counter. Turning back around to face you, he took a moment to really look at you. His lips turned down into a frown as he looked at you bundled up in his sweatshirt with the hood flipped up, toes curling against the cold floor. He stepped toward you, gently resting his hand against your forehead.

“You should’ve called,” he pulled you into a hug.

As much as you didn’t want to be touched, you had to admit that it was nice to feel his strong arms wrapped tight around you. you managed a small smile as you leaned into his chest, “Didn’t have to, you still showed up,” you gestured towards the box on the counter, “What’s all that?”

He let go of you to walk back over to everything that he had brought in, “Your cure.”

You chuckled as you walked and sat across the counter from him. You rested your chin in your hands as you watched him unpack everything that he’d brought over. His focus was evident on his face as he set everything out—brows furrowing in concentration.

“You really don’t have to do all of this, Neron,” you told him with a slight shake of your head.

“Of course I do,” he looked almost offended, “You’re sick. I can’t just let you suffer alone.”

You smiled, not wanting to argue the point any further. Clearly, there would be no changing his mind. You amused yourself by looking over all the different spices that he had with him. While you did that, he started to root around your kitchen and pull some things together.

“Anything I can do?” you asked.

“Go lay down and rest,” he walked around to your side of the counter, “I’ll carry you to bed.”

You laughed, which in turn made you cough, “Stop, Neron, I can walk myself to bed.”

He shook his head as he scooped you up in his arm, “I got you, baby.”

You didn’t have the strength to fight him on it, so you let yourself get whisked away. It was an incredibly short walk to your room but you still let yourself lean into him.

He laid you down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over you. There was a small smile on his face as he caressed your cheek, gently pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face, “Try and get some sleep. It’ll be a while until everything is ready anyway,” he kissed the top of your head.

“Everything? What’s everything?” you smiled up at him.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Get some rest. I love you.”

Before you could ask any more questions, he turned and made his way towards the bedroom door. You listened intently for a few minutes to try and figure out what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for the comfort and warmth of the blankets to put you to the sleep.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep for, but when you woke up you heard the muffled sound of music coming from the far end of the house. A tiny groan slipped past your lips as you sat upright and forced your body to stretch. You swung your legs off the bed and stood up, stretching once more before opening the bedroom door and heading towards the kitchen.

The music got louder as you got closer to the kitchen. And, for the first time in a few days, you would actually smell what was being cooked. You had no idea what he was making, but it smelled great so you weren’t worried. He didn’t hear the quiet pattering of your feet over his music, so you were able to sneak in and find your seat at the counter without him noticing you. You watched him bobbing his head and mumbling along with the lyrics of the song that was on. Despite your exhaustion you smiled. He seemed so at-home.

“How’s it comin’?” you asked.

He spun around, ladle in his hand raised and ready to strike. When he saw that it was you, he lowered his hand with a sigh. He shook his head, “Can’t sneak up on me like that, Mama.”

“Or what?” you chuckled, “You gonna accidentally beat me up with a soup ladle?”

He wagged it at you accusingly, “Bourne almost killed someone with a rolled-up newspaper.”

You fought back a cough as you laughed, “You comparing yourself to Jason Bourne now?” you shook your head, “Anyway, how’s all this going?” you nodded towards the stove.

He let the topic drop as he turned back to all of his things on the stove, “Good. Almost done.”

“What is it?” you got up and crept over to get a look.

He watched you with a smile as you peeked into the pot on the stove, “Vargas Family recipe. Mom used to make this all the time when we would get sick. Fixed our whole shit, swear to god.”

You laughed, “Sounds exactly like what I need,” you turned back around to face him, “Never knew you were so good in the kitchen.”

He smiled as he pulled you into a gentle hug, “You never gave me a chance. Had to be knockin’ on death’s door in order to get you to rest.”

You chuckled, leaning into his touch, “That’s true.”

Sitting back on the other side of the counter, you rested your chin in your hands as you watched him finish up everything that he was preparing. There was something relaxing about watching him shuffle busily around your kitchen. He was completely in his own zone.

It wasn’t too long before he was turning to you with a bowl of soup in each hand. There was a proud smile on his face as he nodded towards the living room. He waited for you to get comfortably situated on the couch before handing you your bowl.

For a while, the only noise in the house came from the television. Each of you ate in comfortable silence. You were savoring it—this was the first thing you were able to taste in almost a week. And Creeper was too busy watching you and making sure you were alright and enjoying it to say anything. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t care. A week of hardly forcing yourself to eat was all catching up to you.

Once your bowls were empty and discarded on the coffee table, he pulled you so that you were laying with your head in his lap. He gently rubbed your shoulder as you settled against him.

“There’s tea for you, too, when you’re ready,” he let you know.

You hummed in response, feeling the most comfortable you had in a while, “Thank you.”

He looked down at you, brows furrowing, “You still sound stuffy.”

You chuckled, “I’m still sick, Neron. Your soup was good but I don’t think it’s magical.

“I brought my neti pot,” he nodded towards the box he’d brought with him, “We can jus hook you up,” he demonstrated with his hand how it worked, “and clear you out. Tellin’ you, baby, you’ll be good as new.”

You shook your head, sniffling as you did, “Hard pass, Neron.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you tried not to laugh, “that’s gross.”

“I clean it after I use it!”

“I’m sure you do!” you couldn’t hold back your laugh, “Still gross.”

“Will you at least drink the tea?”

You smiled as you sat upright so he could get up, “Yes, baby, I’ll drink the tea.”

You smiled as you watched him shuffle back over to the kitchen and grab a mug for you. He was so careful pouring it and bringing it back over to you. You smiled as you cupped it in your hands. He sat back down next to you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your back. Even though you were still sick, you felt like a new person after a decent nap and a good meal. His touch was more than welcome.

“Thank you,” you rested one hand on his knee, “I really appreciate all of this.”

He shook his head, “This ain’t nothin’. If I had more time to prepare I would’ve pulled out all the stops.”

You chuckled, sipping on your tea, “This was more than enough. Thank you, seriously.”

“I love you. I got you—whatever you need,” he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“I love you too,” you leaned against his side and pulled your feet up onto the couch, settling into the comfort of him being there to take care of you when you needed it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #creeper vargas #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x you #creeper vargas fanfic #neron vargas #neron creeper vargas #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

194 notes · View notes

bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Kinda Sketchy (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Request: “Can you do a part two of kinda sketchy where they slowly fall in love?”

Notes: Sorry this took me so long, but I had zero inspiration as the request left a lot of questions hahaha. Still fun to write, I hope you like it!

Tag list closed.

Chapter II

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said.

You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated.

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot.”

“He… what?”

“Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-“

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “Who are you talking to?”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

***

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh- give me the phone-“ “Hey!” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!”

“Unless it wasn’t your fault-“ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!” “Rae talks Corpse language, apparently,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“Wait, what?”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!“

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking, you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

@annshit @simonsbluee @majolittlemixgurl18 @redosmo @mythicalreader @gracehaileym @leikarinn @its-bootz @ollwinchester @thehatredofshiprrick @curlyhairedbrock @thatbandchick39 @reddeserths @mitseuul @potenzel @tanchosanke @tooturntashbash @stephn-prkr @missingpuzzlepiece @sweetasphyxiation @goldiefox1 @imrisaluk @chimchimsugakookies @helena-way07 @danny-devitowo @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @cherry-piee @artist-bby @bluewneptune @bratttyaphrodite @eccedxntesiaast @faithneko @thebootythrasher @bethpiercwhy @theeerealpunkin @heartbroken-writer @chisaikuki @realnicoleworld @candystoregirl @derpygiraffe43110 @rintomoj @phantomamethyst @helloitsmeamie203 @falcon-arrows @nvthvlyy @ellomellows @loraleiix @ladolcedea @lunaruss @princess00wifi @pennnyroyalty @cultofandom @easygoingtheatre @crpseclt @thatonefangirlbornonfriday @myherotrashbin @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @martinimom @gummybear123 @sparklingblacktea @lovelynervouskingdom @kingsuals @weeblyheaux @flightsandfantasy @chanelle-jackson @actual-spawn-of-satan @dixielumsden @consumegods @mirandabarry @ikearandl @narwhalsaremagicalbroski @armycandy10 @chillininahottub-withaghost @mitchiesdungeon @yeolliedokai @alyofmusic @qatiee @dzzizzi @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @leilanixx @thefuckthesaurus @hughugh20 @thanossexual @moneybagmara @squintyangel @motheroffae @arossebyanyothername @vacaprincess @jinxedanxrchist @peterparkerspjsuit @chrysanthykios @wildflowerwhore @punkrainbows @justalilsimpsometimes @bunniwritesx @sunnsettee @justxanotherxshipper @alilshit @dekahg @laugh-like-the-moon @sadness-babee @corpsie-bby @corpsesgirl @dead-boys-stuff @roses-and-grasses @sakusawife @byunniebaekhyunnie @lazy-little-me @phantomamethyst @letsloveimagines @polahorvat @sokkas-paintings @possiblyanxioushuman @a-dot-dev @aniyahsucks @choicesstan1 @error-loading-sorry @bi-andready-tocry @agustdpeach @xibrokensunriseix @genjicats @forest-rav3n @devilishducky97 @alyss01 @anacrcarvalho @siriuslystupid @bakugonua @n0t-a-simp @notmewrongb1tch @c00ln3rdz @rolls-and-rolex @namjoons-crabssss @laurenfangirlsout @lickmyleeches @and-claudia @netflix-imagines @bigdickdaddysatan @iambashfulperson @helloitsmeamie203 @peachdoppi @easygoingtheatre @danielle143 @kyky9103 @tayloryorkscurls @v-kouya @jeezkiddo @smokeynaomi @lukoivichi @boiled-onionrings @nerdinthecorner @corpse-husbandsimp @ramdomtails @elebeleb @captainbuckyy @smile-its-psychotic

#Corpse husband #Corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse #youtube fanfiction #among us #e girls are ruining my life #cat girls are ruining my life #never satisfied #white tee #cabin fever #agoraphobia #miss YOU!

307 notes · View notes

mypersonmyg · 4 years ago

Text

Tebori Tapioca | JJK

**beautiful banner made by @monvante <3

pairing: Jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, tattoo au, tea shop au

wc: 15k

warnings: language, slow burn???

summary: a shining beacon in a sea of monotony OR you just might believe in love at first sight

a/n: hi friends, umm so yea this is a fic i’ve been cooking up for a while and as seems to happen with most of my fics there’s definitely room for more but i didn’t wanna go overboard because the last time i did no one read womp womp...

ANYWHO there’s still very much room for this universe to grow whether it be drabbles, smaller oneshots or whatever so if you have requests pls send them !! for this au or any others

honorary tag: @gukssunshine

masterlist

Sunlight filters through an open storefront, natural light shading the room in incandescent glow, the honk of horns just overstating the chirp of the birds perched in overarching trees that line the street. Lights are still lit, strung throughout branches despite the hour slowly inching toward noon.

Your pencil taps a worn pad, the hundredth rotation of the dormant rectangle of sheets providing no more inspiration than ninety-nine and below. You shove the contents along a desk littered in your crumpled defeat, legs kicking to the wooden surface with comforting intent.

It’s not unusual, the stray of your eyes to the shop just a few buildings from the florist decorating the opposing side of the street. A work in progress, a work almost in completion. It’s become a game, the guessing of its contents, the colorful display before it’s displayed intriguing to many passersby. You’re close to pondering a new theory when Jimin interrupts with his entrance from the back, reciting safety to Namjoon’s latest masterpiece.

He whistles an impressive tune following the departure of a satisfied client, rounding his occupied desk and knocking your feet from his cluttered surface. You don’t have time for the countered glare of offense before his words are zeroed in as if he’s been waiting to direct them long before now when your guard is readily disarmed. “You have an office for a reason, why do you always have to sit at my desk.”

“It’s a nice view.”

“I’ll admit that my delicate features leave nothing to the imagination, but I’m tired of cleaning up after you.” His words are emphasized by his hand’s routine swipe, piles of paper tumbling to the can beside him in rapid succession. Your eyes roll, Jimin’s fingers already beginning to type away on his desktop while your pupils track the delicate arch of his digits and your ears listen to the satisfying click of keys. The consideration of locking yourself away in your office trapezes along the wide expanse of your mind, but before it’s made up Jimin is speaking again, this time with an air of factual superiority. “A tea shop.”

“Hmm?”

“The shop down the street, it’s a tea shop.”

“You sound pretty confident,” You hum, eyes darting to the window, turquoise staring back in the fashion of awnings and fresh paint bordering a wooden frame. The sleeves of your sweater bite at your wrist in comforting fuzz, a slight itch along the skin to pull you from quaint interest. “What makes you so sure?”

“Just a feeling, it’s got that certain ambiance, you know?” Jimin’s hands wave with the impression of the ambiance so to speak, his eyes squinted in that way you so adore. The thought crosses your mind on many occasions, to compliment his subtle beauty, but the knowledge of his playfully arrogant counter always draws you from speech.

“Or because we ran into the owner on our way in this morning,” Namjoon chirps in kind, strolling to the lobby, his own pad in hand. He neatly tosses it to the desk, fingers skimming through unkempt hair. “Nice guy, said he might drop in for a consultation sometime.”

“Consultation? Sounds big,” You muse, hand finding your abandoned pencil to drag faint strokes along your page, though even the slight draw brings grimace to your features, dulled in the shadow of your palm pressed to your forehead, easily nudging wisps of loose hair. Namjoon shrugs, a non-committal range of motion, his neck craning over your shoulder to sneak a peek at your lack of a work of art.

He doesn’t speak on it, simply taking in the unfinished strokes, presumably in an attempt to reassure you in the midst of inspiration long lost. You're prepared to assure him that there’s no need for forced encouragement, but he moves on, collapsing onto near plush without a word.

“Says he’s been thinking about it for a while so I told him we could help him out. He also invited us to his opening, said he'd save some tea for us if we’re busy.” Lips pull back, dimples accenting Namjoon’s heavy cheeks.

You’re unsurprised by his amicable tale, recalling your fresh steps into this very shop just a few years prior. Your body was bare of ink and your arms bore only a flimsy book with hopeful sketches. He’d taken in your wide eyed glance and the disappearance of your bottom lip to the gnawing confines of your teeth. His towering height and newly trimmed hair taunting you within the daunting shadow that filled your frame through the doorway.

You chuckle at past memories, wondering how you could ever fear the gentle giant, his lips pulling into ready grin as he showed you to the very desk before you now.

“What’s so funny?” Namjoon calls to you, Jimin halting in his current endeavor to glance the smirk stretching your cheek.

“Nothing, just thinking. Was that your last client for the day?” You grab for the sign-in ledger, finger trailing the thick page, pinky tugging at the pulled edge of a worn corner. Your smirk flips to a frown poorly withheld, the page filled with Namjoon only reminding you that your own supplies need only be sanitized to prevent the collection of dust.

“Yeah, I figured we’d just close shop early today.” Jimin swipes the ledger with a tisk in your direction, not blind to silent thoughts.

“It’s noon, what if someone wants a walk-in?” Your gaze slides to the clock, hands ticking slowly along the round wall piece. It’s not unreasonable to assume someone will come in seeking art of the bodily variety, and your hands itch to prove your worth, even if it lies within an album long binded.

“Then I’m sure they’ll still want it tomorrow.” Namjoon shrugs, his hands folding over his chest forcing the bulge of recently buffed arms. You almost make a joke about the possible tear of the t-shirt hugging his frame, but refrain out of refusal to partake in the pursuance of sure to follow antics. “Besides, it’ll give you more time to work on that.”

You follow the tilt of Namjoon’s hair, long grown out from his routine refusal to take time from his day to get a trim. You often joke that he’ll be gallivanting with a tail soon enough, his thick locks nearly shoulder length as it stands. He often finds himself shaking it from his peripheral with the wrong angling of his head. He motions to your barely done sketch, the page glaring at you with a mocking disgust.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.” You drip sarcasm, pad tossed to your bag and jacket jerked to waiting arms.

~*~

Off-white trim borders the wall of a shop nearly complete, Jeongguk checks and double checks a list stored in the confines of his mental. Aside from constant fear of the opening of doors without the steady flood of patrons he’s eager for business, hard work finally paying its due.

He’s only in for the morning, the steady tick of his wrist a reminder to snap from his obsessive habit, sure that he’ll receive word from Taehyung that he's on his way to drag him from the building. His grin rivals the glare of the sun as his eyes travel a building come together. His hand falls to his arm in dramatic pinch to ensure that his eyes aren’t filled with hopeful deceit.

It fits, he thinks, stepping out onto the walk, key slotting into the door to ensure security. His shop melds perfectly with the heavily lined street, animated tapioca unfinished in the window somehow making sense with the neighboring extravagance of bloom at the near florist and the samples of ink from the tattoo shop across the way. Even the simple thrift shop with it’s objects of interest decorating the window compliments his simple display.

Opportunity hasn’t struck to visit his new neighbors, though he did stumble into a chunk of the owners of one of the shops. He found surprise in the ease with which conversation flowed, his mouth like the babble of a brooke despite the nerves that skipped like pebbles in his stomach and his heart that beat a million miles a minute following their friendly departure.

In his stupor he nearly misses the float of voices a ways down the quietly milling street, but the recognition of a melodic tone draws his gaze.

“I’ll take you for ice cream.” Jeongguk recognizes the voice that seeks to entice as Jimin, though he doesn’t recognize you.

“I’m not a child you know.” Your statement is grumbled, the words echoing that of a childlike pout. Jeongguk can see the movement of your arms as they reach to a playful shove, the rhythmic shift of Jimin’s feet looking routine even from a distance. You choose not to acknowledge Jimin’s coo, his fingers poking at your protruding cheek as if to say Oh but aren’t you?

Jeongguk watches with interest and the initiative to work up the courage to bring acknowledgement to his presence and perhaps introduction to who he expects is the other third of the tattoo shop. You and Jimin are too caught in bickering to notice the figure just feet away, your fingers pinching Jimin’s nose with a countering taunt.

“Can’t I just treat you to a nice frozen treat? I don’t recall that being a crime, but please enlighten me.” You pinch the bridge of your own nose, the scent of freshly packed soil wafting from neatly situated pots.

You spot the poke of pink from one of the tall and timid plants, though you imagine the fragile nature is only by way of visual, Yoongi always diligent with his seedling evolved friends. You make note to beg him to allow the purchase of a precarious plant, an act of teasing to stem from your track record, the memory of shriveled begonias bringing even your shoulders to lift in cringe.

“Are you still talking?” Your gaze shifts back to Jimin, his flow not conscious to your unconscious senses.

“So rude, you should be thanking me for the extra time off.”

“As if I need more time off, but fine, I suppose I can let you treat me as an apology for your ratty transgressions.” You tut. Were your ears peaked and footing less strayed you would’ve noted the distant chuckle of Jeongguk, still standing dormant outside of a dimmed shop.

His thoughts of hurried introduction came to halt with his notice of you. Your voice held a playful jab when you spoke, Jimin’s reactions only animated enough to draw slight attention from your raised tone. Despite your fussing dialogue, your posture was slouched just a tad and your hands fisted into snug jacket sleeves to mimic paws. Jeongguk decides he’d be hard pressed not to be endeared by you in the slightest.

“Wow, I thought I was gonna have to come here and drag you out by the ears.” Hands clap Jeongguk’s shoulders, Taehyung rounding his frame, grin gentle as he regards with relief. “I swear you’d probably live here if I didn’t keep you at bay. What are you--oh she’s pretty.”

The two watch your retreat, your hand easily clasping Jimin's, the swing of connected wrists appearing natural with your stride through the afternoon chill. Jeongguk ignores the flare of his cheeks at the notion of exposure, thankful that Taehyung doesn’t make a show of his ogling.

“Yeah, looks like she’s taken though...you wanna get ice cream?” Taehyung scrunches his nose, wind kissed cheeks held between gloved palms. His scoff is inward, Jeongguk’s suggestion appearing nothing short of ridiculous as the two are swept by a wind that’s particularly biting. While Taehyung shivers, Jeongguk doesn’t appear to mind, hands shoved in his pockets, heels rocking along cracked concrete.

“Do I look like I want to get ice cream? It’s freezing out here and not everyone radiates the warmth of a furnace.”

“Well unlike you, not everyone is so dramatic.”

“Whatever, just get some when we get home.” Taehyung lightly shoves, legs turning in the direction of his car, parked on asphalt, freshly coated by summer’s end.

Jeongguk stares after the winded trail of a billowing pea, your bobbing figure rounding a corner and straying from widened eyes. He sucks through clenched teeth, opportunities knock having been missed at the hands of Taehyung. The clench of fists in pockets goes unnoticed as he rounds on planted heels and makes his way to the car, Taehyung happily staring from the passenger seat waiting with a grin dripping sincerity.

“You definitely owe me for this.”

~*~

You twitch along with the consistent drip of a leaky faucet, the tap of digits on worn ceramic offering a release to limbs without proper use. The biting chill in your toes is only minutely cured by the pilling of four blankets, barely thick enough to rival the wool knit socks Hoseok gifted you last christmas.

You find pause in the sun setting from the window, dim lighting pouring through weak curtains. Your tongue prods at the confines of your mouth, frosted by forced treat and abandoned with the recommendation of a mug of hot cocoa which now rests lukewarm in your clenching palms.

You force your mind to yield, racing in a direction opposite the self destructive course that usually remains dormant until you lay to rest for the evening. Hands numbed by the interference of a numbing chill met with the warmth of a mostly empty mug nearly spilling when your right palm jumps in the direction of your phone, perched on an end table composed of chipping wood and stains too set to resemble anything but a dark pool, a picture puddle fit for galoshes in adolescence.

You wonder if Yoongi’s taken his plants in, the set of cold not nearly the condition for any pending life surely. Though you quickly pull back, recalling a conversation following another mishap, your plant lying limp before the attentive florist, his cheeks rosy from the heat lamps and the temperature set to ensure maximum growth year round. It was with passion that he waxed about the difference between certain plants and the amazing circumstances of their survival.

It was with half amused grin, your head lopsided along the freshly painted door frame that he assured you that if a plant can survive the harsh conditions of the season of cool there was surely one meant to survive you.

You glance to the succulent placed on the sill overlooking your sink. You had been indignant at Yoongi’s insistence that you take it, almost begging that he give you one of the smiling pink numbers reflecting in the window rather than the less impressive green poking from the dirt of a tiny hand painted pot. Yoongi’s reaction was much the same, innocence painting his rose blushed cheeks as he explained the beauty of every plant, sure to continue on until you gently removed the pot from his fingers.

Now the once shy note of green was large enough to cover your palm, a bright spot in the dark of your apartment, falling apart at the hands of purposeful ignorance from an absent landlord.

A sharp tap against your front door draws your gaze, pointed as if to break the barrier of solid wood. You don’t notice the spill of your drink until warmth slips through your sweater, arm jerk sending the mug careening to shatter. The pieces decorate the floor with a colorful tap to pair with the running of dark liquid along the hardwood.

“Shit.” Words muttered in haste, one of many blankets piled in swaddle is heaved to the floor, your legs lifting you from the chair and gently to clothed knees. Cocooning the glass in the thick material you stand to full height when another tap draws you. Your hands tug at your sweater, the seep of the liquid already beginning to set in and your skin grows irritated from the unwanted intrusion. “Coming!”

You glance to the spot where chocolate dances along the edges of your braided rug, the centerpiece itching to soak up what it can manage of the chocolatey drink, already dreading the work of scrubbing to prevent permanent damage. Making your way to the door your feet stride in a half walk half slide along hardwood, tripping up due to the soiled bits of fabric sticking to your feet and resisting a usually easy trek along the hardwood. The pull of the door is a surprise, an unfamiliar face staring back at you with a geometrically flattering smile.

“Hello…” Your words are drawn and rasped, a mixture of the lack of dialogue and settling curiosity.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung.” There’s no deterrence from Taehyung at your lack of reciprocated enthusiasm, just the shake of locks, shaggy and shielding his eyes that appear to glisten in the flicker of the hall lights. His eyes brighten in recognition, though you can’t seem to separate his stare from the reflection of his shocking irises and simply accept his hand as it slowly extends.

“Y/n. Is there something I can help you with?” You attempt a glance around his ever present frame in hope for an explanation, but the notion is non-existent so you wait as he gathers his own. You don’t miss the wandering of his eyes to the open of your apartment but don’t call him on it, an entrance composed of nothing more than a table and a crooked portrait gifted by Jin. You can hear his distant cackles as he positioned it just perfectly before the door.

“Actually I was gonna ask you how to work the heat in this place, but you look about as warm as me so…” He shifts on his heels unsure, taking in your heavily bundled appearance.

You tug once more at your stained sweater, your face heating with recollection of the soiled garment still clinging to you, now with more fervor from the added moisture. Your thick socks are layered over a pair only slightly less so and your legs appear heavily padded under two pairs of dense sweats. “You must be new here.”

Taehyung shrugs, half a step taken in retreat. He tilts his head just so, gesturing to the vacant hall, a door half ajar allowing the flood of light to illuminate the peel of ancient wallpaper. Not for the first time you wish you’d taken Jimin up on his spare room. “Yeah, just officially moved in today. We’re down the hall, heard the apartment’s been vacant for a while and it seemed nice enough.”

“But no one told you that the heat only works correctly on a good day, sounds about right.”

“And our shower--”

“Leaks?” You finish, the distant drip from your kitchen just audible over your speech. Your thumb pushes against the bow of your pursed lips, teeth grabbing hold of roughened skin whilst you watch the turn of cogs tumbling before you.

“Yeah...should I call the landlord?” His brows knit at your nonchalance, thumb jerking to his apartment. You almost chuckle, covering your outburst with a quick tilt of your head. The simplicity of the suggestion seems only to add to the hilarity of the situation.

“Sure, but I’d recommend investing in a space heater and keeping a couple of tools handy. I’m not wearing four layers to make a fashion statement.” Your fingers drum along the frame of your door, the gentle tap carrying between you in soft silence. “Well...welcome to the building and sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“Guess someone had to be,” His throat clears in chuckle, hand tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie, the strings hanging lopsided where his hood lay half scrunched at the base of his neck. His thumb lifts to trace the corner of his mouth, shifted in that same grin that greeted you minutes prior, though this time your return is swift and without the same haze that accompanied his unfamiliar presence. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Taehyung turns on his heel at the pace of the gears turning in his brain, swift stride carrying him back to his door, yours clicking shut along the shells of his ears. He pushes into his residence, door squeaking on hinges as it closes in his wake. Straight for the living room he makes haste with lengthy stride, spotting Jeongguk who swallows the couch with his body, spread as much as the lengthened cushion will allow. He peeks from his curtain of hair, dangling at the angle of his head, blinking with the poke of a follicle gently prodding his pupil.

“So?” He pushes up to a sit, nearly knocking his phone from the arm where it’s perched without care. His shoulders shake from the mix of cold and anticipation, mistaking the grin that Taehyung sports as a triumphant mission.

“Oh this place is spectacularly shitty, my friend. Looks like we’ll be snuggling like penguins if we wanna get warm tonight.” As if to punctuate his vivid explanation, Taehyung slides dangerously close to where Jeongguk remains sitting, legs brushing as he sinks into the already heated seat.

Jeongguk nudges to the sharp of Taehyung’s shoulder, encouraging him further inward with a defeated groan. He’s sure he catches the scent of something similar to carpet that’s been left to mildew, but he attributes it to imagination. Somehow this very apartment seemed a saving grace just a month ago. “I knew we should’ve splurged on that loft. Why are you smiling?”

“Hm, so that girl that you were staring at earlier, you know her?” Taehyung doesn’t shy from his urge to throw himself over Jeongguk’s lap, ignoring the squint scrutiny from above. He pokes at the underside of Jeongguk’s chin, teasing a reaction from him, grimace evident from the suction of his cheeks.

“Not exactly, I know the guy she was with though. They own the tattoo shop, why?” Taehyung braces his head with one hand, the other grabbing hold of the string dangling from his clothes, rolling the aglet between agile fingers. He ponders the thought of revealing that just beyond moth eaten wallpaper and the cracks of a concrete hall you await just a few doors down.

“Just a question. You didn’t think I would just leave it, did you?” Jeongguk’s nose scrunches because he did in fact find that avenue favorable among the chosen. Taehyung pats his muscled thigh with a patronizing shake of the head, hair already tangling with the push of his heavy skull to Jeongguk’s tough jeans.

“So what, she’s cute, not like I know anything about her. I’m more concerned with making it through the night without contracting pneumonia or risking the complete freeze of my limbs.”

The two seem to scoot closer at the thought, Taehyung now pushed against Jeongguk’s abdomen. They paint quite a picture on their second hand furniture, couch in need of stitching at the seams and the questionable stain that inhabited it upon arrival nipping at the press of Taehyung’s socked feet into the cushion.

Fatigue abandoned the task of unloading boxes that litter the expanse of open flooring and leftover furniture. Their energy fueled endeavor long forgotten along with the memory of comforting warmth. They both ponder the idea of retreating to respective rooms, but find it would be a miracle if they could manage to pull themselves from half comfort, abandoning the hope of body heat against the chill of the shared space.

Audible groan travels the four walls when a gentle fist beats against the door. Taehyung shoves at Jeongguk’s shoulder, a silent appeal to the younger to make sacrifice and leave their cocooned warmth. Jeongguk won’t be swayed, his arms easily finding the weight of Taehyung’s side and nudging enough to send him careening to the floor with a resounding thud.

Grumbles and groans of the incoherent leave Taehyung’s mouth, amused giggles falling from Jeongguk whose legs are now pulled to drink in the heat left behind. Taehyung stops for a moment, thinking that his timely trek was wasted, opposing party’s fist meeting wood no more. He gently opens the door, head ducking around the corner, foot stepping out only to stub into something surely placed for such an occasion as his physical reckoning.

He foregoes subtly, mouth unhinging and curses falling akin to rocks from a cliff side, the echo bouncing against concrete and soaking into the slips and edges of the silent walls. Jeongguk ambles around the corner with concern etched features, the draw of his eyes landing on his roommate, leg at an angle and clutched whilst he leans against the doorframe.

Jeongguk squeezes past, kneeling to pluck the sticky posted from the top of what appears to be a space heater. His eyes scan the crisp note, glancing down the hall with the knowledge that the perpetrator is surely long gone. “Dude, you good?”

“Stubbed my fucking toe,” Taehyung strains. Jeongguk let’s him sulk, hiding a purposeful grin from the dramatist leaning over him. “What is that anyways.”

“Space heater.” He passes the note, Taehyung scans it quickly with a hum. He doesn’t miss the look he’s receiving from Jeongguk, aware of the name scribbled along the tiny parchment. “Was nice of them. What did you say anyways?”

“Nothing really, guess I’m just a natural charmer.”

~*~

“Will you tell her that she should just move in with me like I suggested in the first place?” Jimin snags on the thick of Namjoon’s t-shirt, pulling him from his task, resituating his glasses along his face rather than the slide to the tip of his nose that seemed a regular occurance. You choose to ignore the commotion, back to sweeping dust and scattered leaves from the entrance of the shop.

Your living situation, less than ideal, often leads you to Jimin’s door, his spare room rather drenched in your deposited belongings. It’s his futile mission to persuade you to trade up from your desolate one bedroom with it’s desperate calling for tlc and take permanent residence in his humble abode just uptown.

It’s foolish not to consider, but you always find the scrape of your teeth roughening the budded surface of your tongue when he turns to you with his grin of sweet saccharine nearly once a week. You don’t know what it is about the cracks that seem to shimmy further up the walls with each passing minute or the breaks in the tile that beg an earthquake decades off, but you aren’t quite ready to part with it.

“If you want me to stop coming over just say so,” You huff, fully aware that’s not the case but sure it’ll throw Jimin for a curve with enough distance to keep him at bay.

He sputters, releasing Namjoon with a gentle shove, “That’s not it and you know it! I just don’t see why you stay there, it’s so...broken.”

“I’ll have you know that I-”

“Have lived there since you came here blah blah blah, we know. Oh hey, a customer! Would you look at that,” Jimin’s over enthused response following a set of feet flooding through draws your next words to thin air, replaced with a well meaning grin. His perked posture slumps when he realizes that it is not in fact a patron looking to empty their wallet. “Oh, it’s just Hobi-hyung.”

“Thanks for the sunshine,” Hoseok counters, elbows covered with a patched overcoat resting along the edge of Jimin’s desk. Though his words hold a tinge of sarcasm, he’s all smiles as he regards you. Much like Namjoon he sports his frames today, wide and rectangular perched along the bridge of his nose. From the opening of his coat you smirk at the peak of a bright yellow sweater, an animation practically dancing along the expanse of his chest.

“Guess it’s a good thing that’s your job,” Namjoon pats him on his way to his office, returning with a box overflowing with garments and books. It’s not unusual that the two of them exchange goods, Hoseok’s thrift always looking for ways to fill the shelf.

It surprised you in the beginning, the flow of people who seemed to always leave his shop holding something to their chest like it was the world stuffed into a novelty bag. That was before Hoseok insisted that you visit yourself, sure you’d find something of interest. He wasn’t perturbed by skepticism, it only seemed to fuel the glint of a thousand galaxies that flared in his concentrated stare.

You’d ambled the lot for a good thirty minutes, fingers gliding along shelves so sturdy it came as a shock that he installed them himself, the wiggle of his elongated fingers when you recited the thought still fresh. It was the belief of Hoseok, in his own words, that there was a magic in places like his. A magnetic pull that would lead you to just the thing you need, often times things he himself didn’t even know he possessed.

“The rest is all in good fun,” He’d finished with that smile that rivaled the shine of the largest star glistening from above.

Your magic was nestled in the thick of it all, buried beneath someone else’s waiting fortune. It was the far corner that drew you, something about it just a shade darker than the rest of the large room. You’re unsure what possessed you, ignoring the insistence of magic cycling through the heavy air conditioning as you pillage through a pile of neatly folded quilts and the random placement of a busted stereo.

“Find something?” Hoseok appeared, head resting just over your shoulder. Your crouch betrayed you and were it not for quick reflexes and a helping hand the bust of your ass was sure to find the floor. Hoseok stood with a pool of change shaking in his palm and his neat smile waiting for you to putter around with your find.

“It’s just a necklace, nothing special.”

“Still, take it, you never know.” He was insistent that you leave with the silver chain, an onyx pendant dangling from the end and even more so that, rather than pay him, you admit that there’s something in the air. You agreed, but your reluctance was only truly squashed when you found yourself adorning the necklace more than your usual jewelry reserved for occasion.

“Hey, did you guys hear about the tea shop opening up?” Hoseok plants himself on Jimin’s desk, ignoring the playful glare burning a hole in his side. Namjoon rests the box on the ground next to him with a grunt, clear on Hoseok’s intention to linger as long as time will allow rather than collecting his treasure and hurrying back to his own place of work.

“Jimin and I met the owner yesterday, he seems like a really nice guy.” Namjoon fills before Jimin has the chance to allow his jaw to unhinge, no doubt planning to flaunt his basic knowledge like privileged information.

“That’s nice. Rumor has it he specializes in boba.” You would chuckle were it not for the wild look in Hoseok’s eyes, his hands painting imaginary rainbow before slotting through the pockets of his coat. His feet steadily tap tap against the tile, the gentle nod of his head not at all unusual but nonetheless intriguing. “It’ll be so nice not having to drive a town over just to have a nice tapioca pearl.”

“You know they sell those, you could make your own.” Your words are all but lost on the eccentric businessman, his tactic to avoid information displeasing to his interests taking full effect. His body angles, half hiding a chuckling Jimin from your view. Sliding the broom to the near closet, not unaware of leaves sadly crumpled against the tile from Hoseok’s timely entrance, but not bothered enough to scoop them into the waiting bin, you make haste to your office slipping between the door slightly ajar. “Right. Well I’m gonna go try to get some work done.”

You release a stuttered breath upon the gentle click of your door, mumbled dialogue just barely pushing through the thick wood. Air puffs your cheeks in half contemplation, silence stealing the inspiration that seemed to dance before you, brain now only half awake as time seems to dwindle at the speed of sound. Instead of the reach for a waiting pad and the scatter of ballpoint colors staring from your desk unused and impatient, you grab for a volume that seems to scream from the near bookshelf.

It begs the recollection of time well spent, a pang in your chest follows a rushing to the surface as if air tearing from lungs lacking capacity. Your full weight collapses to your chair, recently upgraded at Namjoon’s insistence that nursing the squeaky four wheeler that threatened to collapse with the wrong release of breath violated his own moral codes before the hushed mumble about legal repercussions. You aren’t complaining, the upgrade makes you feel like a permanent staple, especially when your mind is convinced that layoff is imminent.

Your fingers trace the smooth cover of hardback, reckoning with the ache to feel the crisp of unturned pages and avoid the buildup that follows suit. It’s the not knowing that tugs at the precipice of your flowing mind, wishing for diagnosis from a stagnant flow of a previous gold mine.

Your ears peak at the surge of voices layering the lobby, though your mind squashes the urge for a slip back into the throw of pleasant chatter. You draw a drawer, fishing for half tangled buds, slipping them into your heightened canals to drown with the sounds of your latest fix.

~*~

The lift of Jeongguk’s gaze as heavy feet carry him past the fluorescent sign of Uhgood Tattoo and through the ringing entrance is subtle enough as doe eyes scan the lengthy space for a feminine form. He’s met with null, but the snag of his pupils on a wall of intricacy almost distracts from the loiter of men staring straight for him and Taehyung who is decidedly less preoccupied.

“Jeongguk, nice to see you again!” Namjoon booms over every voice in the room. His arms are half open in eager acceptance and Jeongguk leads Taehyung to the settled group, one last sweep still leaving him wanting for an introduction or a glimpse at best. “We were actually just talking about you.”

“About me?” His tone toes between surprise and unease, lips puckering in the shape of ‘oh’ and steps stuttering against the crunch of leaves slipping along linoleum.

“Yeah, Hoseok here was just saying how excited he is that you moved in. He owns the thrift shop just across from you.”

Hoseok doesn’t need much introduction before he’s centered in front of Jeongguk, smile glinting and hands reaching for the younger man with much fervor. Jeongguk would find the proximity daunting were it not for the friendly face reflecting in his widened irises. His chest rumbles, glad to place a face to bright signs and eccentric displays.

“Nice to meet you, we’re all glad to have a new face on our little strip. I’m especially glad to have an excuse to save myself from Jin’s questionable experiments in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s hand has yet to stop its steady shake of Jeongguk’s, too caught in words, leaving his mind’s body on its own. “Feel free to drop by my shop anytime, I love seeing new faces. Plus-”

“Here we go…” Jimin cuts, feigned exasperation coating his pitched tone before he excuses himself to the back of the shop. His exit isn’t swift enough to hide the exasperation of the puff of air that gaps his lips.

“There’s a special kind of magic in a shop like mine and because you just moved in the first trinket is on the house!”

“Oh magic? Taehyung’s really into that stuff, we’ll stop in sometime.” He gestures to his friend whose hands are shoved to the thick of his sweatshirt, lips pushed inward with the suck of his cheeks. “This is him by the way, Taehyung, he’s my partner of sorts at the cafe and my roommate.”

“Yeah, though the last one is questionable at the moment. Nice to meet you guys, this place is sweet! Do you do piercings by any chance?” As if by pure luck Jimin’s stepping back into the room, his eyes set ablaze with passion by the innocent inquiry.

“Piercings are my specialty actually, I can pierce any and everything!” His hands clasp to Taehyung’s shoulder, glad for excitement out of the realm of files and spreadsheets. Taehyung, surprised by the eager response, can only seem to nod along to the spew that falls from Jimin’s lips that near miles per minute. “Are you interested? I’d be happy to show you our collection.”

“This could take a while,” Jeongguk is startled by the presence of Namjoon somehow closer than before. Jimin is still spouting about his work to his potential client, Jeongguk takes in Taehyung’s features in search of a signal for help, but only finds him painted with interest and intrigue at the bundle of knowledge that is Park Jimin. Namjoon gestures to a hall along the far wall, a couple of paintings half crooked beckoning them forth. “We can talk about those tattoos if you’re interested?”

The buzz that surges in the cavity of his chest is answer enough, companied with the vigorous nod of his head, curls bouncing against the frame of his cheeks. “That would be great!”

Namjoon easily falls into the roll of guide, leading the two down the hall and past a couple of doors tightly sealed. The walls are a dark shade, set aglow by the heat of fixtures hanging overhead. Even in the dim setting, Jeongguk finds his head swiveling in every direction, thirsting to take in every inch of the place. In his haste he nearly trips over a section of flooring slightly raised, likely the result of settled foundation over many years. He decides rather quickly in favor of the building, the character of the interior clashing rather nicely with the updated signage on the outside.

‘We’ve got a few different stations for working,” Namjoon speaks up, drawing Jeongguk’s attention back. “We do them in the section off the side of the lobby if the customer is comfortable and it’s nothing major, but we also have private rooms that we as the artists like to use depending on the project.”

“That’s what these rooms are?” Jeongguk reaches with a pointed finger, tracing the expanse of the wooden frame, chipped and roughened, to a closed door. Rather than plaquing to decipher between the various enclosures there are framed sketches posted outside of each, nothing a newcomer like himself could pick up on, clearly contributed by the owners.

“For the most part, there’s my office and Y/n’s, and a storage closet but this is where the magic happens.” Namjoon allows Jeongguk a path to his office, door shutting in their wake with a dull thud.

It’s less decorated than Jeongguk was expecting, the barely bare walls outside of the office building up the anticipation of the canvas that must be spread within. Instead there’s nothing put bright white, almost blinding compared to what he’s seen so far. There are a few framed photos of Jimin, himself, and you; all smiling in various scenarios of glee. Other than the placement of a decently sized shelf in the corner and the desk perched along the adjacent wall this office gives no indication of Namjoon’ s labyrinthine line of work.

Even so, Namjoon appears highly intimidating as he takes a seat at his desk, gesturing Jeongguk to the comfortable chair across. Jeongguk is well aware that he doesn’t mean to give the impression of a boss, straight backed and fingers laced over mahogany, but that doesn’t make it any less so.

“So!” Namjoon speaks with triumph, his gauntlet the toss of the pen that had previously dangled from the fold of pierced ears. “You have any idea what you’re looking for in the ink department? I figure we can start with graphics and then discuss placement to see who the best fit would be for you.”

“Best fit?” Jeongguk leans forward, boots squeaking obscenely on the tile beneath. His cheeks flush at lack of knowledge, feeling as if the words spewed were foreign when in reality it was a jolt sent to the creases of his spine and straight to the red soaked appendage in his upper chest. While he’s entered this room with the assumption that Namjoon would be his sole artist, there lay a chance that the two of you will come face to face.

“Yeah, Y/n and I are both good at what we do but of course we both have our specialties. So we like to decide our clients that way sometimes.” Namjoon’s explanation leaves him none the wiser to hidden meanings and the hopeful perk of Jeongguk’s shoulders.

“Oh. I haven’t met Y/n yet,” He wonders if you rest behind one of the many doors leading to this one, sketching away on what he’s sure can only be a masterpiece. “Is she around?”

“Yeah...I don’t wanna disturb her though. Maybe she’ll be in the lobby when we’re finished here.” Namjoon’s words are sincere though his eyes seem to drift far off, their target the window over Jeongguk’s shoulder, shadowed by the growth of a large tree, branches dwarfing the ground outside. His trance is but a moment, focusing once more on the man before him. “What did you have in mind for your tattoo?”

“Well, actually, I was wondering if you guys use the tebori method here? I know it’s more widely used in japan, but I don’t really see myself heading over there anytime soon.” This shop isn’t the first that Jeongguk has scoped in hope of an artist with an extra element of technique, the buildup for disappointment resting in a rehearsed expression. He watches the myriad of expressions that Namjoon cycles through, almost as if the answer rests against the tip of his tongue, but he’s unsure if it’s the correct one. “It’s totally fine if—”

“We do.” He speaks without much expression save for the way his spine seems to cave inward as he continues to think. Jeongguk isn’t sure whether he should continue speaking, choosing instead to study the tilt of a pen on the desk, threatening to roll to the floor if it dances any longer at the edge of the surface. His nerves itch to grab for the object for some form of reprieve, afraid that the pending clatter will disturb Namjoon’s steady concentration and perhaps the calm mask that he appears to be sporting.

His head tilts a tad, curls falling over one pupil, the other spying Namjoon as if zeroing in on a target, nearly scrutinizing the pensive thinking with his galaxy gaze. He can see that just past the roof of Namjoon’s head there lies a single divot in the wall, nearly tricking the bump of accidental furniture, but Jeongguk’s own fist clenches in recognition, thumb tracing the jag of his knuckles.

“Y/n is the only person here that can tattoo with that particular technique, she’s amazing at it really, I’m just not sure if she’ll be up for it right now.” Namjoon’s words seem to pain him to utter, a strained longing in his voice that’s indecipherable without context. Jeongguk only nods along, curiosity curbed by his unyielding sense of etiquette in a situation that doesn’t wholly concern him. His feet are already pressing against the flooring, prepared to push to his feet and exchange pleasantries and assurance of no hard feelings, but Namjoon doesn’t seem quite through, leaving Jeongguk’s position to an awkward one hanging from the edge of his seat. “I don’t wanna speak for her though, so maybe you two can talk.”

“Okay, should I set up an appointment?”

“No, I think I heard her leave her office, she’ll probably be in the lobby. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you now.” Namjoon’s mouth is once again split in dimpled grin, leaving Jeongguk’s head to a spinning akin to a child’s top. He’s led from the room, paying extra attention to the hall, ears itching to pick up a tone much higher than those in the lobby he left only a short time ago.

Contrary to Namjoon’s inference, the lobby is emptier than when they left, Jimin and Taehyung the only ones left milling about. Their speech mimics old friends, Jimin poking at Taehyung with the smile of someone who knows something that no one else does, Taehyung simply replying in kind with half grin.

“I thought I heard, Y/n.” Namjoon directs his voice at Jimin, fingers tapping the surface of his desk whilst his eyes take inventory of the shop. Jeongguk wonders if he thinks you’re hiding behind one of the plants situated in the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to catch them off guard.

“Mm, she left. But not before this one got his flirt on,” Jimin’s elbow catches Taehyung’s rib with a sharp jab coloring his words. Taehyung doesn’t allow this to phase him, standing to his feet with a shrug of nonchalance.

“Not flirting, we just happen to know each other. You done here?” He aims at Jeongguk stepping with purpose toward the door. Neither makes eye contact, the subject of interest not particularly left to the category of unmentionable, but leaving them both awkward and stiff.

“Uh, I think so.” Jeongguk slants so that Namjoon is well in his sights, already typing vigorously on his phone screen. “Should I schedule something or…?”

“Don’t worry about it, I have your number so I’ll just have Y/n give you a call to see when you guys meet.”

Jeongguk stands a moment longer, his toes tapping to the leather roof of boots so chunky they seem to swallow him from toe to ankle, the footwear attempting to take from his lengthy form and failing miserably. He turns mid-step when Taehyung slaps lightly at the sleeve of his jacket, urging him to step beyond the threshold. He lifts his arm to half wave, mumbling pleasantries, barely audible of the steps that echo in his ears with each pace onto the desolate sidewalk.

Jeongguk heads toward his own shop, missing the realization of the lack of paired steps with his own. Several paces behind him, a subtle guilt dressing the plains of his cheeks, Taehyung tugs at the wear of half chapped lips, wondering if the broach of a hazy subject is necessary. He catches Jeongguk easily with a jog, nearly stilling him mid-stride but saved from the extra physicality by the passing of a car.

“You know...Jimin was just joking.” Jeongguk’s brows lift, clearly only just catching sight of his constant companion, his own thoughts carrying him along the street without a wayward glance. His eyes widen, unsure of Taehyung’s intentions or the direction of the current topic. “About Y/n, I mean. I don’t really know her and we don’t flirt.”

“Wouldn’t matter if you did.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s just—look I know you saw her the other day and I’m willing to bet the only reason you haven’t mentioned that you’re intrigued is because you thought she was dating Jimin.” Taehyung treads, careful to avoid the gaze of reddened cheeks, Jeongguk’s hand raising to a nudge at his soft lobe, the other clenching and unclenching in denim blue, nails scratching the rough of fabric with each clasp. “Well clearly they’re not dating, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did like her is all I’m saying.”

“Like I said, I don’t really know her. I think she’s cute, from a distance anyways, but I don’t think that’s any reason for a declaration.” The gentle tick of the crosswalk draws Jeongguk's attention on the present path to the opposing side of the street, ignoring the gentle tick of his chest.

A shining beacon in a sea of monotony. The words that filtered like a mantra, dressing the walls of his clogged brain, overflowing from files and dancing with the fires in tipped bins. Taehyung’s words extinguish the licking flames, if only momentarily, with meticulous reassurance.

A pocket of vibration, dark and clinging to his chilled skin, is notification for incoming correspondence. His steps skip, tripping along asphalt, saved only by the subtle grasp of a steady hand. His thanks are dropped without hesitation, hand slipping from fabric confines with the heavily encased lifeline pulsing with power.

From: Unknown [ 2:25pm]~is this jeongguk? namjoon gave me your number, said you need a consult?

From: Me[ 2:26pm]~yea...this is y/n im guessing?

His eyes pierce the screen, undressing the words with precision, ensuring he doesn’t make a fool in reply. He wasn’t prepared for the quick interception of the conversation he’s still processing, inner workings too focused on what’s straight ahead, not minutely prepared for Namjoon's speedy deliverance.

From: Unknown [ 2:30pm]~ding ding ding. im pretty much free whenever, so let me know what works with you and we can meet to discuss what you need and whether im the person for the job

From: Me[ 2:33pm]~ how about tomorrow around this time?

From: Unknown [ 2:34pm]~ cool. let’s meet at the park around the corner

And now, he waits.

~*~

The first thing you noticed was his approach, a confidence in his stride yet eyes that tried and failed to hide the glisten of steady orbs and the kiss of wind landing atop the surprising density of his cheeks like the piling of new snow. Your legs were crossed at the ankle, bare skin grazed by the cool of grass half dried by the desert chill, hands gripping the accumulation of sleeve inched to the open of your palm whilst your lips curved in mimic at the pout of his own, unintentional but perfectly protruding with the tracking of your steady tilt.

If one were to ask about the slight tremor in your hand or the subtle inch across inches between, you would fail to mention the metaphorical personality of your pulsing appendage and the ooz of liquid red abandoning the organ overflowed to trace the expanse of veins humming with the melodic string of laughter yet to abandon the space since he first spoke. You were immediately taken with soft speech and stolen glances, the professional tossed aside when you asked him to meet you, altogether forgotten when he said hello.

The pulsing was stunned only momentarily when he withdrew, hand disappearing into deep pockets to pose leather-bound pages and the hesitant stretch of muscles, the quick twitch of his neck the line of a rod, drawing you forward with each gentle reel of innocence. Now you sit, tangled in silent adoration, dripping admiration for the collaged pages, soaked in brilliance.

“These are yours?” You stroke the page with the ease of your pointer, his head tilting, hair framing, whilst he nods in a lopsided grin. You don’t notice the glue to your cheek, his eyes steady studying you while you study the glide of his hand with jet black against the white page.

He wonders if you catch the nerves, the steady vibration of his unsteady palms, gentle leap of muscled thigh and the brush of your leg with each accidental inch closer. The proximity did him in, your face from a distance only a picture on a page, face to face giving him the overwhelming sensation of the walk through a gallery filled with seven wonders, their spectacle meaningless without the promise of you.

He pretended for a moment, between laughter and brushes of innocence that he’s known you a lifetime, the thought only pulling at his metaphorical strings because he wishes he had. Your voices echo is sure to leave him wide eyed and ceiling bound for nights to come, imagining the galaxy as you, white expanse the only thing keeping from the grip he so wishes he could establish on the slip of your time here.

He knows it’s insanity, thoughts that won’t leave him be, the closeness driving him further to the edge. It’s the reason for his transition to the journal, the reason you’re perched in the grass with the whipping wind and dead leaves skirting around you.

“It’s just some ideas I have, I jot them down so I don’t forget. I was hoping we could work on them, flesh them a bit more…” Your gaze leaves the page, magic dwindling a sum, aghast at the audacity in his words. You withdraw, clenching fists to rationalize the wait for rejection on your behalf.

“Why me? I mean, you’ve seen Namjoon’s work, he’s great.”

“He said that you’re skilled in the tebori method. I’d like them to be done in that style and not many people can. Plus, I’ve seen your work too, it’s just as amazing.” Jeongguk notes the deflation, not unaware of Namjoon’s warning. He’s tempted to pry, but reverses hoping to stumble upon neutral territory, already missing the strain of your muscles in smile. “But obviously it’s only if you’re comfortable. I don’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“You’re not, I just...can I think about it? I know that’s so incredibly unprofessional of me but—”

“Take as long as you need.” Jeongguk decides immediately he doesn’t need an explanation, that your rumination is the promise of another rendezvous, high hopes lifting him over the horizon of the midday sun, skin aching for the glow of golden hour.

You already know you’ll say yes, outright rejection never an option, the flicker of expression alight in your left receptacle more than reason to feel him once more. The physical is through the page, but the metaphorical is the connection of souls, the cliché of one person and the hope of renewed ardor.

“I promise I won’t be long…” The words hang, heavy in the air between and with more meaning than your intent. You’re led away by the weight of obligation, required assistance from Jimin to cover the desk, legs like infant limbs after an hour unmoving.

Jeongguk follows suit, still chewing the words before spewing his own right back. The same weight and familiarity in his soft deliverance.

“I’ll be waiting.”

And now, you climb.

~*~

“How was your date?” Jimin is already setting up his station, eyes not sparing a glance, concentration wholly reserved. His vibration is palpable, though you don’t immediately notice, the feeling still finding stringed limbs when you reach your seat behind the desk.

“I was meeting a client,” You speak hollow and unconvincing, the magic coursing through your veins begging to differ. Wonder is silent, eyes latching to the single eye muraled to the wall, imagining it to glisten like Sirius reflecting in the night sky, musing how one day could build a coherency of such magnetism yet still be held at arm’s length.

“Oh really? It’s just that, I never meet my clients at the park...” His voice is a hum, settling an array of options for the post pierce browse. “—it’s certainly a bonus that said client is very handsome and already seems pretty interested.”

“You’ve never even seen us in the same room, I just met him today.”

“Whatever. I assume he’ll be coming around a lot more.”

Your fingers grasp the nearest instrument, ballpoint clicking in time with the tap of your toe against the leg of the chair. “I don’t know if I’m gonna agree. I don’t want him to be disappointed in the result.”

“I know you think you’re old news, but the fact that you didn’t say no is reason enough. There’s clearly a part of you that wants to, so why not take the plunge?”

“I can’t say yes just because I feel some strange attraction to him. That would be inappropriate,” Your mind barely registers the entrance of figure three, a client you presume, the sign-in ledger already halfway across the desk when Jimin speaks again.

“So you are attracted to him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did,” Your pen clatters, nimble fingers swooping it in your absence, Taehyung’s smirk a playful gleam to counter your startled posture. He greets Jimin as an old friend, the two waiting for you to catch up, the slouch of your spine and the configuration of the scene pulling you back into the current take.

“You’re the one getting a piercing?” Wheels push the foundation, abandoning the desk in favor of the plush leather Taehyung has already sunken into. You believe he feels at home, the decorative jewelry already hanging from his lobes the badge of a pierced veteran.

“Yeah, I figure it’s time to expand my collection.” His hand brushes the lengthy edges of his dark locks, leaving ample space for Jimin to reach his target, the depth of his gaze landing on your arch over the chair’s arm. “I’m assuming your meeting went well?”

“What do you know about my meeting?”

“Why do you think I was here yesterday? The piercing was just a bonus,” He pokes at the tray beside him, the light smack of Jimin’s hand drawing him back to the confines of his lounge. You try to connect dots lost in the fray of day to day. Taehyung is not entirely new to you though still unfamiliar, but you don’t recall the mention of Jeongguk during his earlier visits.

“So you guys know each other then?” Your disbelief finds Jimin, his hand’s busied with extra sanitation and his lips focusing hard to keep his face straight. “I’m assuming I’m simply the last to know, okay then.”

“It’s just circumstance really, I’m the one who came to your door, you were in your office when we came here yesterday and he was in Namjoon’s office when you came out. I promise he wasn’t avoiding you, quite the opposite actually.” You’re too intrigued for embarrassment, your attention handed tenfold to Taehyung, his head slightly tilted while Jimin readies to pierce him.

As of late the stench of disinfectant would trigger a memory you were fighting hard to shield from the surface, but the idea of not knowing more of Taehyung drives it from your mind, currently on one track and unwavered by anything that’s not Jeongguk. Even so, there’s a haze, or perhaps the attempt of common sense forcing you to look past the filter of brights to truly grasp reality.

“We’d never met before today, how could he possibly be looking for me?”

“We actually saw you a few days ago, before you and I officially met. You and Jimin were leaving the shop and he seemed pretty distracted by you, but he thought you two were dating.” Your laughter emits in breathy sighs, muddled by the fluttering in your abdomen, Jimin’s lips smug, shoulders rounded.

“Easy mistake, we’d make a cute couple.” It would be a fib to deny that it’s the first time it’s been thought that you and Jimin were more than friends. His neighbors foolishly believe your late nights are spent anywhere save for the couch, silver screen glaring back at your glued lids.

You watch Jimin work, ignoring the bore of Taehyung’s eyes, his focal point to ignore the sharp sting of the needle. He barely flinches, your own body lurching in slight when the needle meets puffed skin. His hand clasps your wrist, pulling you closer, examining the bare skin in earnest.

“You don’t have any tattoos...none that I can see at least.” He notices, jumping to your eyes and back to your arm. He leans forward when Jimin steps away, gathering his studded collection of earrings, reflecting with golds and silver. “That’s pretty interesting considering you give them to other people for a living.”

“Astute observation. I do not have any tattoos visible or otherwise.” Taehyung kisses his teeth, easily opting for a pair reminiscent of chains. You look for judgement, but there’s none in his study of the colorful space, just a curiosity he’s not sure he should breach. “I’ve always wanted one, but I was too scared. Ridiculous but true.”

“Scared of needles?”

“At first maybe. Scared of the permanence of it all. It feels like such a big responsibility, to me at least, to decide what to get tattooed and I’ve never gotten to a point where I could just do it.” You think back to pages bound by leather with frightening immediacy, the conviction with which the they screamed at you almost haunting if not for the beauty of it. Chilling in the details of sketches, moments in time grasped so eloquently. A part of you is certainly jealous, but the other part is so irrevocably drawn to depth and desire. “Hey, Taehyung, is Jeongguk still at his shop by chance?”

“Actually I’m supposed to be meeting him for ice cream after this so he might already be there.” He pulls his device from his jacket, squinting at the screen, thumb gliding in swiftness. “You guys should come!”

“Oh we don’t wanna—”

“I’m in, I’ve been craving a good scoop,” Jimin leaves no room for disagreement, his limbs already at full speed to hurry cleaning his station. “We don’t have any clients and Namjoon is out of town for the day, so I think we’re good to close up. Plus, you can tell Jeongguk you’ll take him on.”

“I never said I would,” You slide back into your jacket, tucking your limbs into the sleeves. The sky has darkened significantly since the dusting of rays that splashed your skin as you sprawled the grass barely an hour earlier.

“You never said you wouldn’t.” The two are like stooges, already mastering the collaborative effort to challenge you.

“Have fun with your ice cream, I’m, hopefully, going home to a heated apartment.”

~*~

Jin has been talking to Jeongguk since he entered, the recognition of the new young entrepreneur on the strip catching his attention without pause. He’s a nice guy, his energy something Jeongguk would appreciate on any given day, but he was hoping for a moment of collection before Taehyung arrived.

He’s stuck on a blur, the low heat of his skin and the canals of his ears, yearning for the vibration of laughter and soft words spoken beneath the breeze. It was easy and good, an hour lost, an hour found. He would’ve laid there in the grass for hours after your departure were in not for the chill that crept in so easily without you beside him.

He wonders if it was a mutual feeling or if your reaction was just polite, a business tactic. No. Not you, you’re not the type to pretend, he knows even if he doesn’t know. Your sincerity was like a sickness, spilling from your every crevice, pouring out with your every phrase. He’s sure even you don’t notice the significant way you carry yourself, impossible to turn away from.

“Hey, Jin, talking Jeongguk’s ear off I see.” Jeongguk breaks his stare from where it concentrated on the ink already eating his skin, Jimin standing over the booth with Taehyung chuckling beside him. “Maybe give him a break and take out order?”

“There’s a counter, Park Jimin, and—” Jin squints in the direction of the counter, a small line waiting for their treats of the frozen variety, though not many people are keen for the cold in the midst of winter. “—yup there’s definitely someone up there waiting just for you.”

“Ha ha, leave him alone, Jin, his mind is already occupied plenty.” Jin slides from the booth, Jimin immediately taking his place, Taehyung sliding in after him.

Jin feigns reluctance when Jimin recites his order, all around friendlier when Jeongguk and Taehyung do the same. Jimin turns his attention to the other side of the booth when Jin sidles off, already choosing his next target. “Where’s your head at?”

“Hm?”

“We just talked to Y/n, I hear your meeting went well, prospects are high. She seems interested,” Taehyung’s speech is backed with encouragement, Jeongguk’s lip quivering, but winning the fight against his impending smile, intent on not giving himself away too quickly.

“She said she’d think about it and I’m perfectly okay with that.” He thinks of your promise, the thoughts skirting past the surface for a sign, a signal that the more he feels is exactly the meaning behind your words. His rang true, he would wait and be content. He would be prepared to have you work as his artist and end things there, but the weight in his pocket and the recollection of your eyes doubled in size leaves room for the want of more.

“She seemed impressed with you,” Jimin adds, chin rested in his palm, reading for reaction. “The fact that she’s considering is a really good sign. For her and for you.”

“It all just felt really natural,” The two watch as Jeongguk’s eyes glaze over just thinking about the exchange. “Almost like we…”

He trails, face heating, his thoughts almost betraying him. He’s relieved when a server comes bearing dishes, thanking them aloud with pleasantry and inwardly for saving him from himself. The relief is short lived when two sets of eyes beam at him like he’s an amusement, waiting for him to continue.

“Almost like you…”

“Nothing, it’s really stupid. She’s really great, I’ll be lucky if she decides that I’m worth it.” He covers lamely, shoving his spoon past his lips, letting creamy vanilla coat his tongue and ease his mind.

“Trust me,” Jimin mumbles, swallowing his own hefty scoop. “She decided that the moment you sat down.”

~*~

It’s unclear what brought you to this stool some nights later, half buzzed and wondering if you’ll have to call Jimin to drag you home. Your mind hasn’t completely fogged, liquor light with mercy, heavy consequences no doubt pending for the morning to come. A break, you’d decided, hands and knees stained with product, trying in vain to work the stain from your carpet, the smudge faint but not enough to miss your eye.

The crowd is surprising, though you wouldn’t know as you don’t often go to the place with the metaphorical bad stuff, your own brand of lunacy dancing in boxes lacing your cabinetry. You recall the draw of drinks from mugs and Jimin off-key when you’re sliding more bills than you prefer across the counter. Moving is without appeal, head to the counter the way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” The voice is familiar, worth the work to lift your head. Jeongguk looks down at you, his hand placed to the bar, eyes wide with concern.

His own stumbling through the door of the room with the dim lighting and the absurd amount of sports playing in every corner was boredom. Taehyung had plans and he was left alone to the drone of the television, the shop in need of a break from him. The dishes already glistening from his tenth wash despite the lack of use. A spot of dust enough to send him into a frenzy. From Jimin the name of the dive was briefly mentioned, in relation to what he couldn’t say, the topic never picking his brain from the moment it was first spoken.

Now he’s glad he wasn’t a horrible companion, the sight of you hunched over reason enough for his half listen. He notes your solitude immediately, drawn to the side of the bar rather than the thick of it all, two glasses empty before you.

“Jeongguk!” Your tone is uneven, eyes looking watered under the lights, your smile brightening in his eyes. He can’t help but to return, lowering into the stool so your faces are level. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just got here actually and I saw you so…”

“You came for me?” If you were less influenced the words would have remained nothing more than a thought, passing in a sea of others you could never muster courage to speak. Though you’re not sure that a post buzz reflection will make you wish they were any less materialized, the way his features soften like a fertilization for the growth of your thudding heart.

“I—yeah, I came for you. Are you ready to head home?”

“You don’t know where I live,” You say the words, knowing you’ll go anywhere with him even if he doesn’t. You let him guide you from your stool, his touch soft, never too much.

“You know, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

~*~

He lingers outside of your door, adoring the small struggle you have with lock and key, about to lend a hand when your triumph catches him, arms lifting over your head, turning to him with a smile. “Come on!”

“You want me to come in?” Taehyung will be home soon and he has no way of explaining that he’s at your place that doesn’t involve some teasing on his best friend’s end of it, though it doesn’t matter when you latch on to the sleeve of his jacket and pull him past the threshold.

The biggest difference between your place and theirs is the lived-in aspect. He would say that it’s cute, but it’s too simple a word. It seems you prefer mood lighting, the flip of a switch igniting fairies strung to the base of the ceiling. It suits you, who’s already stumbling toward the kitchen expecting that Jeongguk is hot on your trail. The décor is simple, a few paintings on the wall, rugs and cozy furniture.

“I’m sorry if it’s cold in here, it’s always kind of cold in here,” You mutter, grabbing two mugs and giving life to your kettle. Jeongguk recalls that you were no longer in possession of your space heater, taken by Taehyung and himself and still unreturned. He debates running over to grab it, but your hand once more on his wrist, drags him to the sofa erasing the thought of walking out of that door. “Thanks for bringing me home, I promise I’m not that wasted. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“No, I’m not nervous! Not because you were drinking anyways…”

“So you are nervous...why?”

“You make me nervous...in a good way!” He’s quick to regroup, noting the fall of your features, hating that it’s because of him. “It’s completely insane, but from the moment I saw you I…”

“Me too.” Jeongguk’s previously averted gaze rushes to meet you, already staring back. He doesn’t need to ask what you mean, confident that what you feel is what he feels. Confident that it doesn’t matter how insane it may sound. “It’s so crazy, but when I saw you yesterday something just clicked and I thought maybe it’s because you’re ridiculously attractive but then we talked and it was so natural.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” He takes a chance, hand sliding to yours, resting against your thigh. Your fingers tangle without stutter, the position meant to be, so full of warmth and understanding. “I saw you with Jimin a few days ago, I couldn't stop staring."

So long is spent staring, enjoying each other and the mutual affection that's like an aura engulfing you.

"Where exactly do we go from here?” Jeongguk tugs at his bottom lip, another quality that fills you with warmth.

“Why are you opening a tea shop?”

“What?”

“We’re practically strangers, I don’t even know your last name actually. So, if there’s some weird predestined love at first sight phenomenon going on here, I’d like to know everything about you before we proceed.” You click, smile a contagious thing, one that Jeongguk would be remiss not to embrace wholeheartedly. “So why a tea shop?”

“Well first, my last name is Jeon—”

“Jeon Jeongguk…” He watches you test the words against your tongue. “Cute. You’re cute.”

“Anyways,” He blushes. “I’ve always loved making tea. I learned it at a young age and then I started experimenting and decided that this is what I wanna do. I figured focusing on boba would draw more people in, but I also wanna expand on what I already know.”

“Well if anything, Hoseok will be there at least twice a day.”

“What about you?”

“I think I can make time, though you are really out of the way I might not be able to swing it.”

“I’ll pick you up, or better yet I can just bring it right to you,” He offers, amused but truthful. “No, but I mean how did you get into tattooing, and how did you learn tebori?”

“Ah…” Your eyes find one of the frames hanging nearest the window, a landscape that Jeongguk can barely make out aside from the distance of neon. “Well, I was studying abroad actually, in Japan. I was an art history major and I didn’t really know what I wanted to do so I thought getting away would help me figure it out.”

You think often about the day when your current occupation seemed so foreign, your adolescence always filled with imaginings of galleries under curation, days filled with frames and packed schedules.

“One of my classmates convinced me to go out with her one night because she wanted a tattoo and I wanted one too, so I didn’t really see why I shouldn’t go. She got hers first, a flower I think, and while I was watching the artist I was just blown away by the technique.”

“Tebori?”

“Mmhm, of course I’d seen the regular ink and needle, but this just seemed to me something on a deeper level and I fell in love with it. It’s probably the most insane thing I’ve done to date, but I finished my degree abroad and stayed in Japan to learn and now I’m here.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“It just felt like it was time...sometimes I wish I hadn’t or that I could go back to visit. Like it’ll remind me what it felt like in the beginning, make me feel like less of a failure. I'd actually get my tattoo.”

“You’re not a failure, we just have patches sometimes. You’ll figure it out, we’ll figure it out.” The steam of the kettle startles from the moment you're quick to exit to the stove, mulling words and recovering from the embarrassment of exposure over the steaming water. “You know, I don’t have tea so I hope hot chocolate is okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Jeongguk accepts his mug and the packet of mix, stirring it in time with his breathing. He’s left to the obvious blushing of his cheeks, musing his circumstance, sharing a drink with the perfect anomaly. He’s ignored the constant stream of vibration from his pocket, no interest in removing himself from the cozy bubble. “So this place is pretty shitty, I would know and I’ve only lived here about a week. Why do you stay here?”

“You live here? Wait...you and Taehyung are roommates, duh sorry. I’m still trying to catch up.”

“Yeah, thanks for the space heater by the way. I’m pretty sure I would’ve given in the first night if I had to sleep in the cold.”

“Ha! No worries, sometimes I do give in and I stay over at Jimin’s place. But I’m just not ready to let this place go yet, I guess. It’s not great, but change is hard and I’ve been here for so long.”

You're close along the counter, space invaded without invitation, gravitation controlling your every step. The rest of the night follows suit, closeness and appeal. You enjoy words and laughter, ignoring the possibility of the responsibility the next day alludes.

Somehow you find yourselves in your bed, faces close and bodies tucked beneath the thick duvet. You're glad the heat isn’t working tonight, Jeongguk wrapped around you like a boa, slowly falling into the depths of unconsciousness, the conversation lulling with each random topic. Your throat is strained from laughter and your brain is filled with more than it thought possible.

Inches are now centimeters and you’re snails inching toward the finish, certain but uncertain if the light of day will change the result of your exchange.

The morning following you wake much the same as you slept, tangled, breaths mingling between. Jeongguk is still snoring, blissfully unaware of the authoritative knock echoing from your front door. Hands pushing at your eyes, feet tingling against the cold flooring, you swing the door with an annoyance you’re prepared to unleash before you’re met with Taehyung.

His eyes are half frantic, neck craning to see around you.

“Taehyung?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Jeongguk? I’ve been trying to reach him since last night and he’s not answering.”

“O-oh...um he’s here, let me get him,” You mumble, allowing Taehyung, his eyes softening and features squinted, to step inside. You leave him standing in the living room, ignoring the knowing smirk, head bowed as you step into your bedroom.

You regret the gentle shove of his shoulders, and the hushed “wake up” that slowly but surely draws Jeongguk from his sleep. He looked peaceful, full of youth with his eyes stapled and breath steady rising and falling. His eyes are puffy when he raises, confusion laced features recalling that he wasn’t in his own home.

His arm extends, patting your side of the bed, unaware that you were the reason for premature awakening. “Hey sleepy head.”

“What are you doing up?” He finds your hand, grabbing hold in an attempt to pull you back to bed. Though you would be more than willing, Taehyung is sure to have heaps to say already, no reason to add fuel to the fire already blazing in his pupils.

“Taehyung is here,” That catches his attention, eyes darting to the door half open. “He said he’s been trying to reach you. He’s waiting in the living room, I’m sorry if you didn’t want him to know you’re here, I panicked.”

“No it’s fine,” He assures, sliding from the bed, the same chill that ate you catching him with bare feet. You follow him back out to Taehyung, who’s taken it upon himself to peruse the space, currently examining the coffee table with it’s day old mugs. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you.”

Looking between the two of you, your hand finding habit at Jeongguk’s shoulder, he shrugs. “No biggie, just thought you might be in a ditch or something. Turns out I was very wrong, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll just come with you, I should probably shower and change. I’ve got some stuff to take care of before the opening. I can’t believe it’s only a couple months away.” You drop your hand, leaving him to it, an awkward and unsure feeling settling in your stomach. It’s clear that Jeongguk is a bit embarrassed, not that you’re own emotions haven’t caused the sting of a heat in your cheeks. You wait for him to follow Taehyung, who’s already waved goodbye, hands in his pockets as he stalks away.

Jeongguk isn’t so quick, turning to your ground bound pupils, fingers drifting to the trace of your jaw and nudging you to greet him. You’re taken by the lack of hesitation when his lips meet yours in kiss, short and sweet, altogether unexpected. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” You coo, fingers brushing his cheek gingerly, rewarded with one more peck before Taehyung is groaning in the hallway, effectively tearing Jeongguk from you to catch up.

~*~

You’re warm, for the first time in a long time you’re warm, from your chest to your veins, head and toes, and it’s all because of Jeon Jeongguk. His departure wasn’t the last of him, the next few months full of meetings planned and spontaneous, your phone alight with too many notifications, every one taken in with the same adoring smile and your own obsessed response.

You would stop by Hoseok’s blessing him with a coffee, happily listening to his rambling about the horrendous new flavor Jin had him and Yoongi test the other night. Across the street you could just see Jeongguk through the window, lips pulled in concentration, pen scribbling on the pad in front of him. Though it was cute, you couldn’t help but to attempt to cheer him up, his eyes immediately finding you after he’s read the little note sent to his phone.

You would be sick with yourself if you were the one to witness the affection radiating from your expanse, but you couldn’t care less how many times Jimin fake gags or the small lecture you endure when Yoongi delivers flowers later in the day. You hold on to the feeling and you hope that it feels like this all the time.

“What are you working on?” Namjoon steps into your office, no other reason than his own boredom swallowing him whole, much like the cushions when he collapses into your sofa.

“Just some of Jeongguk’s sketches…” You noticed rather quickly the familiar book resting on your bedside table after your first night together, no doubt placed by Jeongguk before sleep could find him. You spent the morning getting to know his art better, so you could try to make it exactly what he wanted. You only just got around to transferring the sketches to your own notebook, hoping to have something to show him at his opening.

“He’s really good for you. I haven’t seen you this eager about sketching in a while.”

“You think so?”

“What, you don’t?”

“No, I just...I don’t want you to think I’m completely insane for jumping into this so suddenly. I mean, I think it’s insane that I could be so completely sure about someone so quickly and I think the world of you, so I don’t want you to be disappointed…”

He laughs, whole hearted laughter fills your office and you’re not positive how you should respond. Your hands are unsteady on your pen, ready for him to completely crush your soul, back to the same girl standing in his doorway all those years ago.

“Honestly, you give me way too much credit.”

“What do you mean?”

“The night that you showed up, I was wondering how I was even gonna keep this place open. The building wasn’t the most friendly looking, most people walked right past, the outside giving them the impression that the inside was just as decrepit,” He sighs, head supported by the arm of the chair, eyes holding the ceiling in place. “When you showed up I was seconds away from telling you to get lost, then you handed me your sketches and you looked so hopeful. You were my last chance, so really I should be thanking you for being so spontaneous, especially if it means you’re happy.”

“Wow, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t want to put more pressure than you already put on yourself. Plus, it doesn’t really matter now, does it? We’re doing pretty good, and that’s what’s important.”

The revelation is a motivation, your grip on the pencil tightening, strokes light and even on the page. Namjoon doesn’t say much more, silent inspiration while he falls into slumber, the only reason he ever finds himself meandering into your space.

“Knock knock,” Jeongguk peers around the corner, your finer flying to your lips, the other gesturing toward Namjoon, dozing peacefully. “Sorry, does he do that a lot?”

“Oh yeah, he pretends he wants to know what I’m up to then he’s out like a light before I’ve finished speaking.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime—”

“Watch it,” You warn playfully, sneakily closing your notebook so he can’t see. “What’s up? I figured you would be too busy filling orders for little ole me.”

“Never, and I want you to try this! I was thinking I could add it to the special menu. I know everyone is into the whole lemonade with boba thing which we do offer but I was trying to make a tea that’s more on the fruity side than the tea side because I know some people are put off by the tea taste, ya know?” He watches you uncomfortably closely, your face trained to be as neutral as possible while flavors explode, traveling to opposing ends of your mouth, battling it out, but ultimately left with no winner.

“You know, I appreciate the thought and I’m sure if you work on it some more it’ll be perfect but…”

“It’s disgusting.” He finishes for you sighing in defeat, collapsing in the chair across from you.

“No!” You round the desk, his arms ready to accept your slide into his lap. “It’s not disgusting, it’s just...not quite blended yet.”

He takes the to-go cup, sipping his own concoction. You wonder if he tried it at all before running over here, his habit of trusting your initial judgement extremely endearing, but unnecessary. It stems only from your admittance that you weren’t the biggest tea drinker and that you’re one of those lemonade with the boba people. His mission became clear, he couldn’t stand to see you walk into his shop knowing that you’ll be leaving with sugared lemons squeezed into juice. He has to make you the perfect tea if it’s the last thing he does.

He was set on making it for the opening, but to no avail, the sign flipped, his employees brewing away, his drop here only partially out of the necessity for his favorite taste tester. “It’s disgusting,” He decides immediately, fighting the urge to spit it back into the cup. “You have to stop being so nice to me, it’s cute, but I want you to yell at me like you yell at Jimin.”

“I don’t yell at Jimin!”

“You yell at Jimin all the time, lovingly, but there are voices raised.” Namjoon rubs at his eyes, tugging at the shirt riding at his abdomen. “We goin for tea or what? I swear people are gonna think we’re out of business with how often we close early.”

"Yeah, can you just give us a minute?" You try your best to be discrete, nodding toward the notebook on your desk.

"Yeah...Jimin and I will just meet you there." He leaves you, door clicking in his wake and you turn to Jeongguk with a ready grin, eyes wide with excitement.

"Is this one of those things where I should knock everything off of your desk? If so I'm down, but this is a weird time…"

"No! I have a surprise for you." You pull his journal from it's position beneath the stacks of paper on your desk. "You left this at my place your first night over."

"I've been looking for this! I was embarrassed to tell you I lost it, but it turns out you're a klepto." He teases, taking hold of the pages. "So you decided to hold it hostage?"

"I wasn't holding it hostage, I was working on…" You lift your sketchbook, flipping to the appropriate page. "These."

They aren't complete, but you want his first impression and suddenly you understand the tea thing. It's a radically different medium, your shared art actually pending ink on his body, but you don't want to go too far only to disappoint. He leans against the desk, not speaking, just staring, expressionless.

"If you don't like them we can talk about what you want changed, I just tried to make something I thought would fit what you've already got going."

He finally looks up, eyes glistening, your stomach doing flips. You're too afraid to ask what he's thinking, so you continue to wait, hoping he'll speak up soon and that you didn't insult him with your vision.

"I love them."

"Really? You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings, it's your body you know."

"Really, you're amazing. This is better than I could've hoped and I can't wait until it's permanent." His words are firm with sincerity, notebook laid to the side in favor of pulling you into his arms. "How am I supposed to compete? I can't even make tea for you."

"Relax, your tea is perfectly fine! I just enjoy the occasional lemonade. Come on, we'll go to the shop, you can make me whatever you want and I'll love it."

"Deal, but...I-we have a surprise for you as well."

"For me?"

"Yeah, I was talking with the guys the other day, we were talking about you..."

"You and the guys? This should be good."

"It is, I promise." He produces an envelope from his pocket, no scrawl on the outside, more mystery than you're ready for. “I was thinking about what you said that first night, about wanting to remember what it was like in the beginning.”

“What did you do?” You tear into the envelope, fingers moving so slowly you fear the skin will catch in the thin edges. What you pull is far from what you imagined, a ticket printed blue for a week’s time. Jeongguk stares at you expectantly, waiting for some form of reaction, but you’re not sure what to say. “This is a plane ticket…”

“Yeah, to Japan. We want you to go back and we knew you wouldn’t do it unless we planned it for you.”

“You guys didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to, I wanted to. The way your eyes lit up talking about that time in your life, I would do anything to give that to you again. So we want you to go to Japan, do something for you.” His lips land on your forehead, breathing you in while you process the unexpected gift. It’s more than you could ever imagine, but there’s a single string, dangling with uncertainty. You figure the only way to eliminate it is to pull full force, risk sounding ridiculous.

“What about you?” Jeongguk’s face scrunches in confusion, the inquiry the last thing he expected. His thoughts were far from himself, not naive enough to think his mind would be focused anywhere but you while you’re gone, but never thinking it would be a reason you’re unsure about going. “I don’t mean to sound stupid, but I’d miss you too much.”

“You can call me everyday, any time of day. I’ll be there, you don’t have to worry about me not being here waiting for you.”

“Or...you could come?”

“Oh, you want me to? I figured you’d want to do your own thing, not have me weighing you down.” Your arms find his waist, head resting against his chest, giggling at the prospect of Jeongguk being anything more than a comforting presence.

“Of course I want you to, I wanna show you everything.”

“I’ll have to figure things out with the shop, but—”

“Oh, wow I’m so selfish. Of course you can’t just drop everything to come with me, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” You shake your head, silently scolding your inconsideration. Jeongguk grabs hold of your shoulders, stopping you mid step, hand halfway to smack your forehead.

“I would love to come, I just have to talk to Taehyung about it. I’m sure he wouldn't mind taking on a little more responsibility. Actually he’ll probably pack my bags for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll probably have to catch a later flight, just to get things taken care of.” He thinks aloud.

“I think I can manage a few days on my own.”

“I promise I won’t be long.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

And now, we smile.

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jjk fluff #bts au #jungkook au #bts s2l #jungkook s2l

291 notes · View notes

showf4lls · 3 years ago

Note

hi hi hi! This is my first ever matchup and I'm so sure it will raise the standards i have even more but i don't care. I would love a romantic matchup, c! or cc! doesn't matter, whatever fits. I dont have a preference but i dont have that much of a connection with like the dteam, im more of a l´manburg kinda girl

my name is dana (she/her) and im openly bisexual :D. When i did the 16 personalities test it said im an "infp-t" and it fits nearly 100%. When im with my friends im more of an extrovert tho. I am very loyal to my friends, especially those in my closest friend group and i would do anything for them. In school i was the funny one, the people in my grade voted me as one who provokes teachers with jokes and always has something to say and i took that number one place with pride. As you will see, i also fall in love very easily and i fall hard. Even if its someone i saw once

my hobbies are reading even tho i wish i would do it more (but i will be a librarian :D), cooking with my friends or watching tv series with them which is also my love language. I like inviting my best friend over for breakfast or cook for my friend group on special occasions.

My favorite movie is "howls moving castle" and im so in love with howl three fav songs: "sex sells" by lovejoy, "metamodernity" by vansire and "afterglow" by sunrise avenue (a Finnish band that got huge in Germany and i fell in love with the lead singer when he was on the voice of Germany lmao) im trying to go for a nature aesthetic with a lot of plants, earth tone clothing but i do love dark academia in movies and books a lot.

me in a nutshell is basically: i cry a lot, i fall in love easily and falling out of love or getting my heartbroken affects me for a long time, i love reading, listening to music 24/7, can be outgoing if its with my friends and we go to bars or clubs but i do love calm evenings spent together eating, chatting, drinking and playing some board games.

― vibe check! i match you with... nihachu !

cw + info! fluff, headcanons / no CWs

includes! cc!nihachu

note! okay look /lh. i was gonna match you with jack or tina, but i feel like you fit better with niki. also, for anyone interested, feel free to check out the event here!

– fiercely loyal to you. would put her life on the line rather than cross you, especially since she knows you would do the same for her

– she really likes listening to you tell jokes and just generally be a goofball; she likes getting a good laugh out of your antics and watching how happy you get realizing that you made her laugh, though she does get on your case for provoking teachers and such

– you fall in love easily? good thing that she does, too. she might not be very obvious about it and take longer to trust those that she catches feelings for, but once you’re in, you’re in

– loves reading with you! the two of you will start an unofficial book club and both read the same book, then you’ll set aside time to sit together and talk about the book

– when it’s raining outside, you’ll turn on the fireplace and sit on the couch, both snuggled up under a blanket while you read together and just be cozy (also, tea or hot cocoa is a must for these situations)

– if one of you is really tired and having trouble winding down before you go to sleep, the other will read to them. niki’s extra soft with you in these moments: gets herself all comfy and half-laying down, pillows behind her back, before letting you rest your head in her lap or on her tummy. she’ll play with your hair, twirling it or combing her fingers through it, while she reads to you

– loves cooking and baking with you as well! she’s definitely better at baking though, so she leaves the cooking to you. really likes to sit on the counter and watch you for a while, talking to you or asking questions as you work. as she keeps watching and learning little tidbits here and there, she’ll eventually ask you to teach her your ways :>

– she especially likes when you bring a speaker into the kitchen and play your music while you’re cooking, just saying

– studio ghibli movie nights! both of you love the animation style so much and the plots are always so cute! you prefer to watch them together so that you’ll have each other when you cry

– you guys schedule game nights together! you’ll sit down with some good drinks and a fun board game (you guys have collected enough to justify getting a game cabinet) and just spend hours playing games together! you only have one rule with the board games: no monopoly unless a guest suggests it, otherwise the both of you will be sitting there for eons trying to finish the game

#໑ yours truly!#໑: nihachu #໑: content creators #໑: fluff #໑: headcanons #໑: matchups #ʚ: big 200 event!#ʚ: vibe check event #mcyt matchups #dsmp matchups #dream smp matchups #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #nihachu x reader #niki x reader #nihachu fluff #nihachu matchup #nihachu headcanons

16 notes · View notes

abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years ago

Text

Daring - Chapter 3

This is the last chapter for Daring! If you haven't, read part one and two first 💛 This is just a very fluffy chapter with vanilla smut at the end (with love for all of you who got whiplash from my last fic).

CW for alcohol consumption, language, talk of loss/trauma, sex and SPOILER WARNING for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water. I will spoil the ending for the movie here so if you want to watch it first and haven't yet, now's the time! Honestly, it's an amazing movie and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so lmk if you have ~thoughts~

Chapter 3 - Home

The days until Thursday went just as excruciatingly slow as the days before your first date had. The only difference was that now you knew what to expect. Or did you? You knew she liked you, too. Wanted you, too. She had told you every night on the phone. Every day after you finished at work you waited patiently for Abby to get off her shift, too. She was on day shifts at the moment, usually from 6 am to 4 pm, but more often than not it took a few hours longer.

Abby was very kind with her patients, often taking people back home from the hospital or helping them get accommodated in their hospital rooms. It cost her a lot of time, but when she told you how grateful they all were you could hear how much she cared.

“I’m telling you Y/N, she actually cried in my arms. This poor old lady, I think she must have been over 80. She could barely raise her arms to put on the gown, the fall had stunned her pretty bad.”

You and Abby were cooking on FaceTime, or rather you were pouring yourself some cereal and Abby was making pasta with fresh tomatoes and herbs. You wished you were there.

“I hope she recovers fast,” you said, pouring in the milk. “It must be awful, being away from home in that state.”

“Yeah,” Abby sighed, “but she luckily didn’t break anything. It’s horrible though, the way elderly people bruise. She is going to have every single step of those stairs visible on her torso for at least a week.”

You took your phone and bowl, using your elbow to open the door to your room. Leah winked at you from the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth and water dripping from her hair. She was going out with Nora and Jordan, seeing some action movie.

“You’re incredible for taking the time to help her. Did she really have no one else?”

Abby sprinkled some basil into her pasta sauce.

“I don’t think so. She was pretty confused, but she said her daughter lives in New York and she didn’t want me to call her. I’m gonna check on her tomorrow when I have a minute between calls.”

“Oh speaking of…” You leaned back against your headboard and propped up your phone against your thigh, staring into your bowl. “Are we still on tomorrow?”

Abby laughed quietly.

“Baby, I’ve been counting the hours. I can’t wait.” You felt a pull in your stomach at the name. She had never called you baby before. Looking at her, you could see she was trying to hide her nervousness. You smiled at her.

“When can I come over?”

“I hope I get off at 5 and they don’t rope me into an emergency in the last minute of my shift. I’ll just call you as soon as I head out and you can come over straight away. I’ll buy all the groceries we need tonight.”

“Hey, I can -” you protested, but Abby cut you off.

“No, you just grace me with your presence, that’s enough. You don’t know the exact ingredients anyway.”

You smiled and finished your cereal. You couldn’t wait.

Abby called you at 6 pm, still sitting in the passenger seat of the ambulance.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call sooner.” Little strands of hair had fallen out of her braid and framed her face, some of them looking damp with sweat. There was a flush on her face and dark circles loomed under her eyes. You felt just a little bit guilty, having stayed up with her on facetime until after midnight the night before.

“Don’t worry, I’m not the one working extra hours. How was your shift?”

“Honestly? Terrible.” You knew Abby was not one to complain, so that really had to mean something. You saw her sway in the seat as the ambulance pulled into the garage and finally came to a halt. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? I’ll be home in half an hour, so just come over whenever you want. I’ll leave the front door unlocked in case I’m still in the shower.”

A prickle went over your skin at the thought, but you quickly pushed it away. Abby was obviously exhausted, this was not the time to imagine her and you in a shower.

“Are you sure you really want to cook? We could just order takeout and call it a night.”

Abby considered it for a moment. It had to have been the worst day. She quickly spoke to the person next to her in the driver’s seat, then you heard the car door being shut. Abby looked back at you.

“Abby. Let me take care of you.” Your voice was soft. You wished you could brush the loose strands of hair behind her ear. The blonde sighed and unfastened her seatbelt.

“Just come over, okay? We can decide then. I just want you with me.”

You jumped up and grabbed the bag you had already prepared for sleeping over, a bottle of Merlot on top of your clothes.

“I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you,” you said as you struggled to put on your shoes with one hand.

“See you soon,” Abby smiled and ended the call.

You called out a goodbye to Leah and she yelled back “Go get her!” Smiling to yourself, you closed the door behind you and rushed to the train station.

Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the train, you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous, just like the last time. But this time was different, you reminded yourself. This time you could make your way straight into Abby’s arms, straight to her lips. You secretly checked your breath in your hand. The train arrived both too quickly and not fast enough.

After knocking at the front door twice without any answer, you made your way inside the house. Abby had told you to just come in, but you felt like an intruder nonetheless. Where could you wait without taking up space that wasn’t hers? You didn’t want to be sitting there like a movie villain when she came down. You called out but there was no answer, only the bass of a rock song playing upstairs and the sound of water rushing through pipes in the wall.

Deciding to make your presence as visible as possible, you dropped your bag on the stairs and took the bottle of the wine to the kitchen. Abby’s heavy paramedic jacket was thrown over a chair and her keys were on the table. An empty glass was standing next to them, water droplets running down on the outside and leaving a wet ring on the wooden surface. You picked it up and placed it in the sink, drying the spot with a tea towel. Then you took out two wine glasses from the cupboard you had put them into after cleaning up the last time and put them on the counter. You leaned against it, wondering what you should do now.

Thankfully, you heard the water shut off upstairs and a few seconds later there was the soft thump of naked heels on tile floor. You decided just to wait until Abby came down. It only took two minutes, then you heard her on the stairs. She slowed when she reached the bottom, probably noticing your bag.

“Y/N?” Her voice was light, but there was excitement in it, carefully restrained.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You suddenly didn’t know what to do with your hands and reached for the bottle, then realized you didn’t have an opener and you probably wouldn’t be able to use one either. You let your arms drop to your side and Abby entered the kitchen, stopping a few steps from you.

She looked beautiful. She was wearing a light grey cutoff shirt and dark navy sweatpants. Her hair was still wet and hung loosely over her shoulders, darkening the cotton where it touched the fabric. Her face was still tired and her shoulders slumped slightly, but her eyes had lit up at the sight of you.

“You’re here!” She held out her hands, still not moving from her spot.

You closed the distance and threw your arms around her, burying your face in her neck.

“I’m here,” you mumbled and Abby’s arms closed around you, encasing you completely. She smelled wonderful, moisture still evaporating from her skin and warmth spreading from her body to yours where you touched. Your excitement didn’t falter, but your nervousness did. A wave of calm came over you. You were here.

“I’m sorry your day was so terrible,” you murmured, lips brushing the skin of Abby’s throat just above the neckline of her shirt. “Wanna spend the rest of it on the couch?”

Her upper body fell forward into you and her forehead came to rest on your shoulder. She nodded and you gave her waist a gentle squeeze before drawing back, resting your foreheads together and cradling her cheek with your hand.

“Come on, then. Let’s order you some food. I brought wine as well if you want some.”

Abby sighed.

“I’d love some.”

You wanted to step aside and take the glasses to the living room but Abby’s arms around you tightened and the corner of her mouth lifted.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered. And then she kissed you.

It was sweet, gentle, and tired, her lips soft and warm. You melted into her, both of you clinging to each other for a moment until Abby pulled away smiling. She took the bottle of wine and rummaged through a drawer for the opener. You held the glasses and watched her open the bottle, brows knit together and her tongue peeking out between her lips. It was both adorable and incredibly hot. You sat down on the large sofa together and Abby poured both of you a generous amount, then you clinked glasses and the blonde stole another kiss.

“Alright,” you unlocked your phone, “what are you craving?”

Abby gave you an amused look before she let her head fall back on the sofa cushion and thought for a second.

“Do you like Mexican food? Burritos?”

“Love it,” you said, searching for the closest restaurant and checking their website for delivery service. Abby just hummed in approval when she saw which one you had picked out. You placed the order together, Abby’s right hand never releasing yours as she clumsily used her left to pick her food. When the order was sent, you threw your phone to the foot of the sofa.

“So,” you said, turning to your side in order to get a better look at the blonde. “Wanna tell me about work?”

Abby sighed and opened her arm for you to crawl into. You gladly scooted closer, resting your head on her shoulder and throwing an arm over her stomach. When she spoke, you could feel the thrum of her voice in her chest.

“I went in early to check on the old lady who fell yesterday and found out she’d fallen again last night. She hadn’t told anyone because she was embarrassed, but I could tell something was wrong. Turns out her arm was broken in three places. I had them call her daughter even though she begged me not to bother her. I don’t know what her daughter is like, but I hope she takes care of her.”

You hummed and pushed yourself even closer to Abby’s side.

“After that, we had a call because of a domestic violence case. The police were there already, it was horrible.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and you pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“After that, we had to go straight to another family dispute that ended in someone being stabbed with a steak knife. We got them to the hospital fast enough and it all went well in the end but I just hate cases that revolve around psychological trauma as well. All those family issues… I hate it.”

You could only imagine how horrible this must be for her after what had happened to her dad. Though you still didn’t know the whole story and you could probably find out easily by googling her name, you didn’t want to feel like an intruder in her past. She would tell you when she was ready.

“I’m glad you’re telling me about it,” you said, trying to sound firm and gentle at the same time.

Abby let out a little huff that sounded slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I don’t usually do that. Normally I would have just shoved all that into the back of my mind and tried to make this evening go perfect. Not that I don’t want to put in the effort with you-”

“I know,” you interrupted her, raising your head to smile at her, noses brushing against each other. “I think this is perfect. You are.”

You moved in for a kiss and Abby placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you gently as your lips touched. She deepened the kiss soon, breath going a little faster as her arms pulled you even closer. You threw your leg over her thigh, half on top of her now. Her tongue was smooth and hot against yours and when her teeth scraped over your bottom lip, you let out a whimper that she caught in another kiss. Feeling bold, you finally moved on top of Abby, straddling her thigh and placing your hands left and right of her flushed face. You rolled your hips forward and she made a guttural sound, low and hungry.

Her hands were all over you, pressing between your shoulder blades, wrapping around your waist, grabbing your hips to make you grind forward again, then finally cupping your ass and digging her fingers into the muscle. You stopped trying to keep yourself from panting and leaned forward to kiss Abby’s jaw, then the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She drew up her leg behind you, pressing her thigh between your legs, and you whimpered into her ear.

“Abby,” you whispered, “what are you doing to me?”

“Anything you want,” she murmured against your cheek, “anything, baby.”

You could hear your pulse drumming in your ears as you kissed the blonde fiercely, then moved your lips over that chiseled jaw again before biting the delicate skin of her throat. You dragged your tongue over her pulse point, actually feeling the beat of her heart fluttering against your sensitive nerve endings. She smelled intoxicating, warm, and earthy, and it made you want to take her in completely, to drown in her and never come to the surface again.

Her hands were on your hips again, guiding them against hers as she let out another low moan, lips parted and pupils blown as she looked at you with a mixture of amazement and pure, burning desire. You let your hands wander down her torso, trailing your fingers along the hem of her shirt and slipping them underneath. Abby’s skin was radiating heat, her stomach flexing beneath your touch.

“May I?” You asked, your voice breathless. Abby just nodded, lifting her arms over her head and arching her back so you could push the fabric up, revealing her broad frame, toned abs, and a black sports bra. You threw the shirt to the side and fell back onto her, your chests pressing together as you enveloped her in another heated kiss. You ground down against her thigh, the seam of your jeans pressing against all the right places. Abby’s hands were on your back again, broad and warm and reassuring.

You stayed like that for a while, melting into each other, catching the other’s breath, and trying to move in ways that would get the other to moan even though you were both still shy and careful about making noise. Abby twisted her pelvis ever so slightly so you could keep riding her thigh and hit her hipbone at the front of every movement. You responded by pulling her damp hair and making her hiss before she pulled you in and kissed you fiercely.

“God, Abby…” Heat was pooling at the bottom of your stomach and there was a sudden, almost painful sensitivity to your core. Pleasure had sneaked up on you without you noticing, completely surprising you with its intensity as Abby rolled her hips upward and you had no choice but to cry out. There was a hunger in her eyes, a triumphant glint and she held your face gently with one hand while the other was tight around your hip, guiding your movements against her and pressing into your flesh.

“Fuck, Abby, fuck, I’m so -” She swallowed your whimpers with another searing kiss, her tongue pressing into your mouth and her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Come on, baby, you’re so good, so beautiful, baby,” Abby mumbled against your lips, followed by more sweet compliments and hot kisses, her eyes always on yours. You found the perfect angle at last and dug your fingers into her shoulder, your moans going high and fast as you pressed your forehead to hers. She placed a last gentle kiss on your lips and you came undone on top of her. Her hands caught you easily, stroking you through your high, her lips caressing every inch of your face. Her skin was warm beneath you and slightly sweaty. You licked a small stripe up the side of her throat and kissed her jaw.

Abby pulled back just an inch to get a better look at your face, running her hands through your hair and over your cheeks, then down your shoulders and coming to rest around your waist.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” she said quietly and with a blissful smile. “An angel.”

Her gaze was so piercing, so raw and knowing that you suddenly had the urge to bury your face in your hands, to hide from this infinite feeling inside of you that you could see in Abby’s eyes as well. You forced yourself to hold her gaze and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

“I’ve never… this has never happened to me before,” you confessed softly. “You are doing things to me I never even dreamed of.”

Abby chuckled at that and caught your hand, kissing every knuckle and then the inside of your palm.

“We fit well, don’t we?” It was cautious, a step forward with no weight on it yet, a hand on a door handle.

“We do.” You grinned at her, and maybe it was the rush of the high that still hadn’t faded or a rare wave of courage, but you decided to rip open that door from the other side. You sat up and placed a hand on her sternum, feeling her heart thrum beneath your palm.

“Abby, I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but just know that I’m already yours, no matter what.”

For a moment, Abby didn’t seem to fully comprehend. Then she frowned, the smile not fully leaving her lips but turning bittersweet. You felt your stomach drop. Had you spoken too soon?

“Y/N.” Abby’s hand covered yours on her chest. “I’d love nothing more.” A weight fell off your shoulders. Abby wasn’t done talking yet.

“I’m a difficult person to… be with. I’ve really put in all I had with you so far, but there are times when I will be cold and closed off and I won’t be able to let you in, to let anyone in. I don’t know if I could hurt you like that.” She squeezed your hand now, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying this because I’m scared or unsure, I’m saying this to give you an out. Or at least some more time to really get to know what it’s like with me in your life. I can be exhausting. At least that’s what I’m told.”

You felt something hot flare up in your throat. That was not fair.

“Who told you that?”

“Owen. I mean, he’s the only person who knows what it’s like being with me and he certainly didn’t like it very much.” Even with her broad shoulders, her set jaw, all her muscles, she looked strangely small now. You felt like you were going to burst with rage.

“Abby, do you honestly think an ex’s opinion of you counts? To me? I don’t give a shit what Owen thinks because I’m not him and this is not the same thing. I get to decide what it’s like and so far it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” You placed both your hands on her cheeks and leaned forward. “Babe, stop trying to deny yourself happiness. You deserve to be happy. And if I make you happy, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Abby sat up straight, her face now directly in front of yours, and wrapped her arms around you tightly. She blinked the tears away, a smile beginning to tug on her lips.

“You’re mine?”

“Only yours.”

She kissed you and you could feel her grin against your mouth, smooth teeth softly clicking against yours.

“Mine,” she mumbled and began trailing kisses down your throat, hands now wandering down your back and under your t-shirt where they immediately provoked goosebumps to spread over your entire body. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Both of you pulled back with surprised faces.

“The food!” you realized and you had to laugh as you scrambled to get up from the couch. You had almost forgotten how hungry you were. Abby quickly pulled on her shirt, grabbed her wallet, and opened the door, hair wild and her lips still red and swollen. You hovered in the background, probably looking just as disheveled, and tried not to giggle like an idiot.

The delivery guy took one look at you and just gave Abby an amused smirk as he handed her the food. She tipped him generously and thanked him before closing the door and turning to you, both of you frozen in your spots for a second. Then you both burst out in laughter. Abby was next to you in three strides and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you let yourself flop down on the sofa together. Abby had ordered two large burritos, you had chosen a vegetarian taco bowl and a big bag of tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole. While you unpacked all the food and laid it out on the coffee table, Abby turned on the TV and scrolled through the movie options.

After some looking around, you decided to watch The Shape of Water, which you hadn’t seen yet despite being a big Guillermo del Toro fan. You ate in silence, letting the film pull you into a cold war era story of a mute woman, her gay best friend, and a strange fish-human being in the facility she was a cleaner at. You generally avoided watching more artistic, less Hollywood-typical movies with other people in fear of them constantly ridiculing the story to hide their own discomfort with monsters, but Abby was just as immersed in the story as you were. Sally Hawkins was a fantastic actress and the amphibian man was beautifully designed and a fascinating character. Del Toro’s handwriting was all over the film - beautiful colors and cinematography, fairytale monsters next to very human, real-life ones, the fear of the Other and the idea that maybe if one just dares to look beyond, the Other may have a story to tell and love to give.

When you had finished your food, you snuggled up to Abby, occasionally feeding her chips with guacamole and kissing the salt from her lips. During the final scenes when the shooting happened, Abby tensed up next to you. You hadn’t even thought about movies possibly triggering her or making her uncomfortable. Fuck, you should have looked it up beforehand. Now all you could do was press your temple to her collarbone and wrap your arms around her as tightly as possible.

“Do you want to turn it off?” You mumbled, your thumb drawing circles on her ribcage. You could feel Abby shake her head.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now. The movie is almost over anyway.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you close. The ending was beautiful and heart-wrenching and you shed a few tears, staining Abby’s shirt. She just smiled and kissed the tears from your cheeks.

“Did you like it?” You asked tentatively, not sure if the shooting may have ruined it for Abby.

“I loved it.” Her expression was warm. “That scene in which she talks about the way he sees her without any of her flaws, just her, and how her fight for his life is what makes her human was beautiful.”

“And then in the end she wasn’t human after all,” you added, “I’ve never really seen it that way around. Usually, the beast turns into a prince at the end. I always hate that. Why can’t the monster stay a monster after having proven their love and their honor and whatever else is needed to redeem them, you know?”

Abby thought about that for a moment, her eyes going unfocused.

“That’s true. In so many stories, all the things that make the monster monstrous are stripped away as soon as they have proven their worth and found true love. It doesn’t work like that in real life. We all have things inside that could deem us monsters and it’s only when we hope to have found love that we can dare to reveal them and hope the other person loves us anyway.”

Something warm spread inside you, reaching out to every corner of your body, every toe and every fingertip. You leaned in and kissed her gently.

“The silver plate.”

Abby looked confused for a second, then she remembered the things she had said during your last date.

“Yeah, my own monstrous silver plate.” She smiled. “Scared?”

“Not at all,” you grinned and climbed on top of her. “I’ll devour you.”

You pressed your lips to hers her and it quickly turned into another heated makeout session. Your limbs were tangled together and her hands roamed your body as you kissed her neck and when she finally asked: “can I?” you almost knocked your head against her jaw trying to sit up so she could take off your shirt.

Sitting up on her hips, you dragged your nail from her ear to the hem of her shirt, scratching the skin and making her hiss, eyes burning.

“Want to show me your bedroom?” you asked, trying not to lose your focus at the feeling of her hands wandering up your thighs. You yelped as Abby sat and stood up in one swift motion, arms secure around your waist and thighs so you’d stay pressed to her chest. You wrapped your legs around her and laughed into her mouth before she kissed you again.

The tall blonde carried you up the stairs like it was nothing, making soft noises when you bit into the soft skin just below her jaw.

“Y/N…” She kicked open a door and didn’t give you any time to look around, crawling on the bed and trapping you under her large body, attacking you with kisses, all teeth and tongue. It was glorious.

You pulled on Abby’s shirt until she grunted and took it off herself, then her hands were trailing the skin above the waistband of your jeans. More, more, more.

“Can I take those off?” Abby asked, sitting back on her knees between your legs.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips for better access, but Abby had other plans. She let her hands wander over your upper body, her fingers teasing your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette, then softly tickling your stomach on their way down. Finally, she opened the button of your jeans and slowly opened the zipper, her eyes flickering up to your face and back down to her hands.

“Come ooon,” you begged, “please, Abby.”

There was the hint of a smirk on her lips, but she complied and pulled off your jeans, both of you laughing as they caught around your ankles and Abby had to wrestle them off. Then Abby’s hand was on your foot and she held it in place on her shoulder, slowly kissing her way up your leg. Your breath got faster with every inch she came closer to your heated center, that place that had gotten a taste of what was to come and wanted more. She dragged her lips over your clothed core and your legs trembled, a gasp escaping you.

Abby took her time with you, kissing your stomach and chest before taking off your bralette and teasing your nipples with a gentle tongue and fluttering fingers. You were squirming beneath her, a mess of pleasure and want for more, begging her to touch you. Finally, she sat back up and hooked her fingers under the waistband of your panties, keeping eye contact and pulling them down slowly. Her gaze was burning, pupils wide, lips hanging open and breath going in shallow pants.

Her tongue was heaven, it was heat and silk and everything at once, enveloping you in waves of ecstasy and making you moan and bury your hands in her hair. She was gentle, cleaning up the mess you had made earlier and the one just now, broad tongue and small circles sending your hips up to meet her, her fingers around your thighs too far away.

“Abby, please…” you gasped and she looked up to meet your gaze. You melted inside.

“What do you want, baby?” Her voice was deep and husked, lips shining with your juices.

“Your fingers.” You gave her hand a light push downward and with a smile, she complied.

If you had thought you had already reached the pinnacle of pleasure, the best there was, you had been oh so wrong. Abby’s fingers were magical, teasing you and filling you up, stroking against that tender spot inside you, then slowing down as her tongue made you see stars, complying when you begged her for more, faster, harder. Your legs hadn’t stopped shaking in what felt like forever, your fingers were cramped into Abby’s beautiful blonde mane and you were crying out her name over and over again as she brought you to your peak, guiding you through it and moaning along with you as your juices covered her fingers and her tongue.

When she finally crawled back up to meet you, her arms were shaking slightly and her face was flushed. You still felt like you were somewhere far away, but her smile pulled you back to the present. She kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Slowly, you let your hand wander down and play with the seam of her sweatpants and the hem of her boxers peeking out underneath.

“Wanna take these off?” you mumbled in her ear and you could see she was trying to keep her composure as she tried to get out of her pants as fast as possible before coming back to you. She stopped and looked unsure suddenly.

“Is it okay if I keep these on for now?” She gestured to her sports bra and underwear.

“Of course, baby. Can I touch you?” You whispered, one hand on the back of her neck as the other wandered lower. Abby nodded and kissed you again.

“Yes, please,” she whispered back. You slid your hand into her boxers and were greeted by wet heat, desire practically pooling in your palm. Both of you gasped at the same time, eyes flying open to meet each other’s, bodies grinding together.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” you cooed and watched Abby dissolve in front of you, blood shooting into her cheeks before she buried her face in your neck and began leaving lovebites on your throat. You dragged your fingers between her folds, relishing in the tiny noises she made whenever you touched her clit or came near her entrance.

You put all your strength into throwing Abby to the side and rolling on top of her, hand never leaving her center. She laughed in surprise and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in, and at that moment you slid a finger inside her. Her eyes went wide and the noise she made would visit your dreams for the rest of your days. You kept your lips wandering over her throat and back to her lips, pulling moan after moan from her with your fingers, gently pushing inside her and curling upward, your thumb drawing circles on her clit. After a while, you could see her abs flexing as her core convulsed rhythmically, her moans getting higher and breathless, her fingers digging into your waist.

“Will you come for me, Abby?” you whispered and kissed her again. Her hips bucked up into your hand and she made a strangled noise, then her legs clamped together around your fingers and she sighed, tongue darting out to brush against yours as you slowly pulled your hand from her sensitive core.

You threw your thigh over her hips and pressed your face into the crook of her neck, giving her time to breathe as you drew patterns on her bare stomach with your fingers.

“Baby…” she mumbled above you, voice vibrating through her chest. “That was… I don’t even have words.”

You grinned up at her and she brushed your hair behind your ear. Her gaze was full of love and adoration, like sunlight warming your skin, soft fingertips caressing your cheeks.

“I’ve never felt so safe,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder so you could look at her. “You’re so careful.”

Abby smiled and followed the path of your fingers with her eyes.

“I’ve had other experiences in the past that made me realize how important it is to always check on your partner.” She looked down at her clothed hips. “Thank you for… not making this weird. I’m just… one step at a time.”

“Of course, baby.” You moved your lips closer to her ear. “I think it’s really fucking hot, you between my legs in those boxers, all muscles and freckles. But then when I touch you, you’re so needy, just a wet mess, coming on my fingers in your underwear.”

Abby let out a shaky breath, chest trembling at your words. She laced her fingers between yours and pressed them to her sternum.

“You leave me speechless every time,” she said, voice quiet and content.

“I love it.” You pulled the blanket up with your foot and covered both of your bodies up to your hips, yawning into her shoulder. Abby chuckled quietly.

“Do you need to set an alarm for tomorrow?” She reached over to the bedside table, then let her arm drop. “Our phones are still downstairs.”

You groaned and rolled onto your back before blinking up at Abby innocently, hoping she would go and get them. She just laughed and got up, stretching her arms and making the muscles on her back dance beautifully.

“You need to go pee,” she said with raised eyebrows. You sighed and lazily rolled out of bed, pulling the blanket up around you.

Abby showed you the bathroom across the hall and made her way down the stairs, a bounce in her step. You could hear her clean up the takeout containers and throw away the trash in the kitchen. Suddenly there was a noise outside, a deep voice and the jingle of keys at the door. You froze with the towel in your hands. The front door opened and Manny tried to stay quiet in that completely ineffective way most men do, dropping his shoes with loud thumps and whispering into his phone so loudly you could hear every word.

“Hi, Manny,” Abby said in the hallway. Keys dropped to the floor with a clunk.

“Dios mio! What the hell are you doing sneaking around here, Abby? You just get back from the gym?” You could hear her laugh quietly as he tried to catch his breath.

“I could ask you the same. Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”

You snuck back into her bedroom on tiptoes, wrapping the blanket around you tightly and staying near the door to hear the conversation downstairs.

“Had to go early, my dad had a hot date tonight.” You could actually hear his grin.

“Yeah, well, me too.” Abby’s voice was dry, but you could tell she wasn’t actually annoyed.

“Really? Y/N? How'd it go?” A pause, then another loud whisper - “holy shit, she still here?

“Y/N, Manny’s home!” Abby’s raised voice rang through the house. You grinned. She knew you were listening.

“Hi, Manny!” You looked around for any clothes you could throw on quickly but came up empty. Sighing, you checked your blanket placement and went to the top of the stairs, looking down at Manny and Abby in the entrance hall.

Abby was still just in her sports bra and boxer shorts but didn’t seem to mind at all. Manny wore sweatpants and a green sweater, along with a hat that said women want me, fish fear me. Behind him were two large bags, one of them clearly full of fishing equipment. His smile lit the room.

“Hi Y/N, nice seeing you here. You two have a good night?”

You nodded and he made a knowing ah-ha sound. Abby elbowed him and red spots formed on her neck.

“Well, I’m gonna eat something and pass out. Breakfast tomorrow?” He threw a hopeful look in Abby’s direction. “When does your shift start?”

“Noon, I get late shift for the next two weeks. Y/N, what about you?” Both of them looked up at you and you shifted your weight, very aware of the way you looked right now.

“I just need to study, I can sleep in for once.”

Abby nodded and patted Manny’s shoulder.

“Breakfast at 10.”

She came up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and grinning from ear to ear. Manny vanished into the kitchen, continuing to scream-whisper into his phone. You made out the words “finally… girl is here” before Abby simply picked you up and carried you back to bed, kicking the door closed behind her.

You snuggled up together and Abby stroked your hair while she told you about her friendship with Manny and how glad she was to have him. He had been there for her through everything and he had wanted her to make a move and ask you out for weeks. You felt yourself drift away slowly.

“I’m so glad I’m here,” you mumbled, hand stroking Abby’s chest.

“Me too, baby. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine.” The bliss in her voice was the same you felt in your heart.

“Finally.” You craned your neck for a last kiss and melted beneath Abby’s soft lips and warm hands.

She held you wrapped tightly in her arms, almost as if she was scared you could vanish in the night. As if you'd ever leave her now. The last thing you thought before falling asleep was that you were finally home.

Author's note: Have you seen The Shape of Water? Did you like it? Let me know here 💌 If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here 🤎

#abby anderson #abby tlou2 #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last us 2 #tlou abby #leah #leah tlou #abby anderson fanfiction #smut #fluff

130 notes · View notes