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smoochkooks · 4 years ago

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—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass.

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck.

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.”

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up.

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. [1:24pm] jungkook:

please

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.

“Hello, doll.”

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.

But you accept your fate the way it is.

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”

“I know. He told me about you.”

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back. “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:

At least text me if you’re okay

Please

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay

Night, miss grumpy

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.

[10:45am] jungkook:

Do you have time now?

I need to tell you sth

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was.

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response.

[10:46am] me:

I guess

[10:46am] jungkook:

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”

“Should I be scared?”

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.

“Okay. I agree.”

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers.

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”

“Taehyung.”

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.

“Is somebody jealous?”

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.

“What is it?”

“You’re invited to a party.”

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?”

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”

“Good.”

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features.

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life.

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.

That your little infatuation had a sequel.

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls. You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away.

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”

“Ladies first.”

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”

“Exactly!”

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes.

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing. You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening.

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.

“So good,” you mewl.

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh.

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,” You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss.

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“Always.”

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.

[5:55pm] jungkook:

We’re departing in 20 minutes

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.

[6:01pm] me:

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.

However long it takes.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #my writing #lost stars

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH14

Things are changing ;) The next 10 chapters look a lot different than the original, and most of them are brand new.

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 14: Death by a Thousand Cuts

The crowd waiting for Ladybug and Chat Noir outside the Louvre grew thicker as another van pulled up, and a crew of reporters hopped out. Alya drummed her fingers on her phone, shifting when the new additions forced their way into the throng. She just wanted answers. Being selected to be Rena Rouge meant she had some sort of bond with Ladybug, right? So why did Ladybug replace her without warning? Was it out of necessity? Or did the fox Miraculous have a permanent new owner?

Camera bulbs flashed as the heroes exited the museum, and several microphones competed for their attention, swallowing Alya in a sea of limbs. Lila promised a private interview, and if her stories were to be believed, she’d better come through. This was the moment that would define their friendship, and more importantly, Alya would finally learn if Marinette and Adrien were telling the truth.

“Ladybug!”

“What’s the story on this akuma?”

“Can you confirm that you and Chat Noir are dating?”

“Do you have any leads on tracking down Hawkmoth?”

“A student got punished for wandering off on a field trip. No, we’re not dating—stop asking! And as of right now, we have no leads, but Chat Noir and I are doing everything in our power to keep you all safe,” she said smoothly. She never once looked at Alya in the crowd.

“Ladybug,” Alya spoke up.

Ladybug shifted to face her, though her face bore no sense of recognition or familiarity. Her expression was blank, cold, business-like, distant—a steely mask hiding her emotions.

Alya bit her lip and continued. “Um, I was hoping to get an answer to a question many of my followers have. Do you have time for an interview?”

Ladybug’s earrings beeped frantically—a reminder that the heroes were on literal timers.

“I’ve only got a couple minutes,” she replied. “Make it quick.”

Strike one.

“My viewers want to know what happened to Rena Rouge. Will Malin be a permanent replacement, or was he a temporary stand-in?” she asked.

Several reporters rolled their eyes. As far as they were concerned, these questions were yesterday’s news. No one else seemed to care that Rena Rouge was replaced. They clung to whoever wore the suit in the moment, but it was the most important question in the world to Alya.

Something flashed in Ladybug’s eyes, an uneasy expression Alya saw in the mirror a lot as of late. Those big blue eyes were filled with pain, hurt, and regret, but Alya couldn’t figure out why. What had she done to receive such tortured expressions from someone who once trusted her?

“Malin will wield the Fox Miraculous in all battles moving forward.” She grabbed her yoyo. “No more questions. Bug out.”

Reporters glared daggers at Alya for wasting their opportunity to get the latest scoop. Alya could see it in their eyes. As far as they were concerned, Rena Rouge was old news. Her heart dropped to her feet, shattering like glass on concrete.

Strike two.

“I’ll be happy to take a few more questions.” Chat Noir stepped to the center of the crowd. His eyes skipped over Alya too, lengthening the chasm growing between them.

Strike three.

All the microphones pointed at him, pushing Alya aside just as Ladybug had done to Rena Rouge. Her heart hammered in her chest, a painful lump blocking her throat as tears welled in her eyes. Did Ladybug not trust her anymore? What did it all mean? Lila was supposed to talk to her and set up a private interview, but Ladybug treated her so coldly. Why?

Because she’s a liar.

The thought flashed in her mind, Marinette’s familiar voice ringing in her ears. Alya had to wonder if knowing the truth was any better than living in ignorance. One thing was certain: if Lila really was a liar, then Alya had a lot of apologizing to do.

♪♫♪ Sanctuary ♪♫♪

“Hey, you made it!” Macy took Marinette’s hands and planted kisses on her cheeks. “Is Adrien coming?”

“He said he was.” Marinette retrieved her phone from her purse to check her messages.

“You two should sit together.” Macy insisted, and when Marinette’s eyebrows raised, she added, “I’m a huge fan of his, but you two seem really close, and I’d never want to start anything over a boy. It’s not worth ruining our friendship.”

“Macy…” Marinette pulled her in for a hug. “You’re the best.”

“No, you are, and if Adrien can’t see that then he has poor taste,” Macy said. “If you ever need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back, and I’m sure Eliott can teach you all kinds of ways to flirt.”

“I might take him up on that. I’m hopeless.” Marinette admitted. “Sometimes when I talk to him my words come out wrong.”

“Why don’t I set up the perfect scene for you two tonight?” Macy offered. “Afterall, the play is packed with romance. He won’t know what hit him.”

“Who won’t know what?” Adrien asked as he and Martin approached.

“Oh, nothing,” Macy said with a coy lilt. “Just girl stuff, you wouldn’t be interested.”

“I get it. Keep your secrets.” Adrien smirked.

“Come on, Eliott reserved us box seats!” Macy took Marinette’s wrist and led the way.

As promised, Macy sat Marinette next to Adrien and toted Martin off with her to “get a drink.” Adrien seemed oblivious to her plans but unbothered by the extra alone time with Marinette.

“So, your dad let you come, huh?” Marinette said conversationally.

“He’s more amicable toward other rich people, and he thinks theatre is a more…enriching activity.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess he figures I’ll behave.”

“Either way, I’m glad. It means we can spend more time together.” Marinette offered him a shy smile.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a downer. I’m really glad he’s letting me out. Ever since you changed schools, I don’t get to see you as often, so I always look forward to spending time together,” he said.

Marinette’s heart skipped three beats. “Yeah, it’s great! N-Not that he doesn’t trust you, but that we can hang out, I mean. It stinks that he doesn’t trust all of your friends and keeps you at home, and I’m sure it must be hard for you, and… I’m gonna stop talking.”

She turned to face forward, slapping her palm to her forehead. Maybe she should have hit up Eliott for flirting advice before she let Macy push them together.

“No, no! It’s fine. It is hard, but I’ve got really great friends like you who understand, so that makes it better,” he said.

“You know I’m always here for you if you want to talk about it. Any time.” She reached out, hesitantly at first, to place her hand over his. “You’re…really important to me, Adrien.”

Adrien searched her soft expression before a smile curled on his lips. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” He gave her hand a squeeze as Macy and Martin returned.

Macy nudged Marinette with a giggle, and she bit back a smile. Maybe she wasn’t as hopeless as she thought. Adrien kept hold of her hand until the lights dimmed, and the theatre hall broke into applause. It was a small gesture, but Marinette would take it.

Eliott played an amazing Chat Noir, and even Margot didn’t do too bad as Ladybug, despite being a total brat behind the scenes. The play was fun, and a reminder of how much Paris trusted Ladybug and Chat Noir to defend them. Though, she did find fault with their kiss at the end seeing as she and Chat were so not like that, but Paris wanted what it wanted even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You. Were. Awesome!” Macy tackled Eliott the moment they met up afterward.

“Thanks,” Eliott chuckled. “I think that was my best performance.”

“You play Chat Noir so well, Eliott. Are you sure you’re not really him?” Marinette teased.

“I’d believe it,” Adrien said. “I’m impressed by the quality of your playwright’s puns.”

“They’re almost as cheesy as the real Chat Noir’s,” Marinette added with a grunt.

“Not feline the cat puns, Marinette?” Adrien folded his arms over his chest and cocked a brow.

“Purrhaps she just doesn’t find them funny,” Eliott said with a wink.

“Then she has a very purr sense of humor.” Adrien smirked.

Marinette rolled her eyes, shooting him a playful grin of her own. “I just think his comedic timing needs work. They’re saving Paris; shouldn’t he take his job a little more seriously?”

“Meowch. No appreciation for good comedy with this one,” Adrien said.

“I may have to reconsider purrmitting you to attend the after party on my yacht,” Eliott said. “You have to make one cat pun to be admitted.”

“Do I have to?” Marinette groaned.

“We can chat about it on the way.” Macy giggled as Adrien and Eliott praised her contribution.

“Yeah, we’ve gato go.” Martin pointed to the door, only adding fuel to the fire.

Marinette sighed. “Betrayed by all of my friends at once. That’s cold.” When they all gave her expectant looks, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Please leave meowt of this.”

She rolled her eyes as they all applauded, curtsying and blowing sarcastic kisses. If anyone knew more cat puns than they ever wanted to, it was her. Chat Noir certainly kept them coming.

“Alright, I guess you can come.” Eliott draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked.

“You guys are insufferable,” Marinette said.

“You love us though.” Adrien wrapped an arm around her waist on the other side, and her cheeks warmed.

Across the lobby, Lisette was chatting with other stagehands, and Eliott stiffened. He might be good at flirting, but when it came to Lisette, he always clammed up. It didn’t help that she was shier than Marinette either.

“Go invite her.” Marinette urged, elbowing his side.

“What? Who? I wasn’t- you’re…”

“Hey, Lisette!” Marinette called, breaking out of his grip and beelining for her.

“Marinette!” Eliott chased after her.

Lisette tilted her head to one side. “Hey, you’re…”

“Marinette.” She held out a hand. “Eliott’s friend.”

“Yeah, you were at our dress rehearsal last night.” Lisette nodded, cheeks flushing when Eliott latched onto Marinette. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s up.” Eliott clamped a hand over Marinette’s mouth, and she gave him a prompting look. “Um, just I’m having a party on my yacht if you wanna come. Just a few friends and family, super casual. Margot won’t be there.”

Lisette clutched the hem of her shirt and bit her lip. “Sounds fun.” She rocked back on her heels. “Let me go home and change, then I’ll come over.”

“Okay, great!” Eliott said a little too loudly. “I’ll- We’ll see you there.”

“Great.”

“Cool.” He turned abruptly, dragging Marinette away by the wrist. “Okay, I deserved that revenge.”

“She likes you!” Marinette said.

Eliott couldn’t hide his smile. “Shut up.”

“She’s coming to your party.”

“Yeah, I got that. Thanks.” He let a breath pass his lips. “I’m just nervous. I’ve never liked someone before, and I’m scared that everything could go wrong.”

“Talk to her tonight. Let her get to know you, and I’m sure she’ll like you no matter what,” Marinette urged. “Have confidence.”

Eliott searched her expression, pursing his lips. “Okay.”

The rest of the group was waiting in the limo, and Marinette crawled in beside Adrien. Macy was prattling on about the play, particularly the big kiss at the end, teasing Eliott for having to kiss Margot.

“Do you think her snobbishness can infect you like getting bit by a zombie?” She poked his cheek.

“Shut up, we’ve rehearsed that kiss a 100 times over the past few weeks, and I’m fine.” He swatted her hand away.

“You really are a good actor if you can pretend to be in love with Margot for an hour and a half,” Macy said. She fanned her cheeks. “Even still, that kiss was so romantic! I would love to have seen the real thing on heroes day.”

“Oh, come on. That kiss so didn’t happen in real life. The playwright just added it in for dramatic effect,” Marinette said.

“How do you know?” Adrien quirked a brow.

“I- just Ladybug is always saying in interviews that they’re not a couple, so of course they didn’t kiss.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, that’s just a cover story. They are totally in love. Chat Noir is head-over-heels for Ladybug, and she just hides her feelings so Hawkmoth can’t use it against them,” Macy said, not bothering to mask the ‘duh’ in her voice.

Marinette rolled her eyes. If only they knew.

When they arrived at Eliott’s yacht, her friends continued their chatter, and a small smile curled on Marinette’s lips. She really was lucky to have them, even if they all believed Ladybug was in love with Chat Noir—she’d convince them eventually. After everything that happened with Lila, Marinette was spiraling, feeling unappreciated, abandoned, and angry. Martin and Eliott said she helped them, but truthfully, their friendship saved her first. They showed her that real friends did exist, and that they don’t abandon one another.

Finally, her gaze rested on Adrien, the one thing she still had left from her old school. He’d grown quiet after their conversation. He flashed smiles and laughed when appropriate, but something hid behind those green eyes, an intensity Marinette had never seen from him before. After a while, he disappeared from the party, and Marinette wondered if he’d gone home until she found him on the upper deck looking out over the Seine.

“I’ve always thought the Seine was prettier at night,” he remarked as she approached. “The reflection of the lights on the water calms me down.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet ever since the limo ride,” Marinette said. She leaned against the railing next to him. His eyes were fixed ahead, barring her from the emotions brewing inside. Another gray wall with a locked door between them.

Finally, he flicked his gaze over to her, searching her face as if she were a puzzle that needed solving. He looked at her like that a lot nowadays. Several times when they spent time together, she’d catch him staring. A month ago, she would have done anything to get Adrien to look at her, but now as they stood only centimeters apart, eyes locked, she didn’t know what to say. Her heart fluttered.

The last time they hung out, Adrien almost kissed her—a fact that haunted her every day since. What did it mean? Was Adrien in love with her? Was he going to kiss her now? Oh god, she shouldn’t have eaten the Camembert from that cheese platter.

His eyes bore into her so intensely, she thought she was going to pass out, but instead of kissing her, he bit his lip and asked, “How are you holding up with everything?”

Blinking in surprise, she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m doing better now,” she said. “Some days are still rough, but I’m grateful for my friends. They’ve really helped me overcome everything.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately. I’m just glad you and I are still friends,” Adrien said softly. “You’re someone I don’t ever want to lose.”

Her cheeks warmed as he tucked a loose strand of hair into place. Taking a leap, she took a step toward him, curling her arms around his waist. He held her close, resting his head against hers.

“I’m really glad I still have you,” she whispered.

“You’ll always have me. I’ll always be watching out for you,” he said in her ear. “Always. I promise.”

♪♫♪ Careful ♪♫♪

“Hey, bestie.” Lila smiled as Alya approached their usual table at their favorite café. Her face fell when Alya flashed her a pensive frown. “Why the long face?”

“I talked to Ladybug yesterday,” she said. “She totally blew me off. I thought you said you were going to get me a private interview.”

“Oh no, I am so sorry, Alya!” Lila’s face fell into her hands. “I should have warned you, but I just don’t know what happened. I tried texting the private number Ladybug gave me, but she totally ghosted me. I don’t know what’s going on with her lately. She hasn’t been replying to me at all.”

How convenient.

Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m having trouble believing you.”

“I’m not lying to you, Alya! Ladybug has been pulling away from me lately, and I don’t know why.” Lila’s lips curled into the perfect pout. “I find it really hurtful that you don’t trust me. I thought we were friends, but you’re starting to sound like Marinette.”

“We are, I just… I don’t know what to think anymore. I-” Alya averted her gaze with a sigh. “I need some time to clear my head, okay?”

“Of course. I know you have trust issues after what Marinette did to you, so I completely understand,” Lila said. “But please, don’t call me a liar like she used to. If you leave me, then everyone else will too.”

Alya chewed her cheek, searching Lila’s expression. Her eyes seemed so genuine that Alya almost apologized on the spot, but she knew that not everything in life was as it seemed. Be a journalist. Investigate.

“I gotta go,” she said. “My sisters want to see a movie this afternoon, and my parents are at work.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lila offered, but Alya held up a hand to stop her.

“That’s alright. I can handle it,” she said. “Thanks, though.”

Lila sank back into her chair with a pout. As Alya turned to leave, Lila’s face shriveled into a glare that sent a chill down her spine, but she kept walking. Maybe she imagined it. Her mind played all kinds of tricks on her lately. She only hoped the truth would reveal itself soon and free her from all of this doubt.

♪♫♪ happiness ♪♫♪

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ladybug sat on the edge of a roof, staring out over the city. She heard Chat Noir touch down behind her, but she didn’t turn around as he approached. Her head was drained, empty, lifeless as she stared ahead.

He didn’t question as he sat beside her. They knew each other well enough by now that she didn’t need to explain when she was upset. He just knew. The silence stretched on, but Chat Noir waited patiently while she gathered her thoughts.

“I knew it would happen,” she said finally. “I knew she would wonder.”

“Alya?”

Ladybug nodded. “I never told you, but she was Rena Rouge.”

Chat Noir’s mask raised, and Ladybug lowered her gaze to her lap.

“She must hate me now,” she murmured, lip quivering.

“You did replace her without an explanation,” he said pointedly.

“I had my reasons.” She swung her legs over the edge. “I need people that I trust by my side.”

“I wasn’t questioning your decision,” he said. “You know I trust you 100% no matter what.”

“I guess it’s not that I don’t trust her.” Ladybug sighed, chewing her lip. “I mean, I don’t doubt that she would still work with us, but she’s hanging out with Lila, and after everything…I can’t work with her.”

“I understand.” When Ladybug gave him a disbelieving look, he brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckle. “Really. I do, Bug.”

“I know it sounds selfish, but I can’t put my feelings aside,” she said. “I know we have a duty to protect the city, but if I can do that with someone else, then why go through the trouble?”

“No one’s asking you to.” When her face fell, Chat Noir reached out to cup her cheek. “Bug, you did the right thing. No one is doubting you. We need people we can work with and count on, and if Rena Rouge isn’t it, then it’s time for Malin to step in.”

She leaned against his shoulder, watching cars crawl up and down the street with sad eyes—a city full of people counting on her. They seemed so small from up here.

“It’s hard sometimes,” she said. “Having the whole city looking at you to fix all of their problems… The weight of the world gets so heavy.”

“Don’t worry about stepping on toes. We have to do what we can to save everyone, and we can’t do that if we’re working with people we can’t trust,” Chat Noir said. “It’s not selfish. It’s our job.”

Ladybug smiled, Chat Noir’s familiar warmth flooding her chest. Chat Noir could be sweet when he wanted. He could give Adrien a run for his money if he acted like this all the time. Nah, that was a stretch, but she’d always love Chat in her own way.

Ladybug stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, kitty.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirked, then added, “I just hope you’re not thinking of replacing me.”

“Of course not,” she giggled. “I know I can always count on you.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” He leaned his head against hers, and they sat for several minutes, watching the city lights twinkle on the skyline.

She spent a lot of time leaning on blond boys lately, but in her defense, she had two of the best. Chat Noir trusted her even when she didn’t trust herself. Sure, he was goofy, full-of-himself, and his puns were terrible, but… Somedays she needed someone like that. Someone to make her laugh and roll her eyes. He was her best friend, and she hoped that even after they defeated Hawkmoth that they would always stay this close.

“Until next time, m’lady.” He bowed theatrically when they stood to leave. “I’m always here for you if you need me.”

“I know.” She pulled him in for a tight hug. “Thank you for being someone I can lean on. It means the world to me.”

“Of course, m’lady.”

Ladybug swooped down to the street, ducking behind an ad stand and letting her transformation drop. Clara’s presentation was in a week, and she was going to pull an all-nighter. Coffee was a must. She was getting close to finalizing a few of her designs, and now that she’d gotten everything off her chest about Alya, her mind was a lot clearer.

Rounding the corner, she crossed the street to a quaint little café before a waterfall of silky, red hair wiping a table in a dingy green apron caught her eye. Was that…

“Gabrielle?”

#mdcsp #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

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Live And Let Livestream

Jaskier's saturday nights are reserved for livestreams but sometimes they end up including wikipedia fraud, protective boyfriends who only half-know how to use the internet, and a spontaneous sleepover instead...

A/N: this is just a bit of fun inspired by the jaskel discord - love y’all <3

Having a wikipedia page is pretty impressive and since Jaskier strives to be both pretty and impressive, it’s no surprise that he has one.

Well, he actually has two but nobody needs to know that. Either way, for someone as bothered about his reputation as he is, he pays very little attention to his wiki, often forgetting he’s even that level of famous until Yennefer teases him about it. Or until something inevitably goes wrong - It just so happens that he’s in the middle of a livestream when something does inevitably go wrong.

“...and yes, this is a new shirt, thank you for noticing, um- sorry, i didn’t catch your user! I’ll drop a link so we can all be scandalous together, hang on!”

He’s just about picked up his phone to check he’s got the right website in mind when it starts ringing. Cursing softly as he literally jumps, he shoots a guilty grin at his computer. “Can you guys pretend that didn’t happen so I can pretend I still have some dignity? Thanks, just give me a second…”

Ordinarily, he’d just put his phone on silent because all of his important friends know he spends Saturday evenings and often nights livestreaming. But it’s Eskel calling and he’s not about to be rude and decline someone who bakes him brownies whenever he has a meltdown now, is he?

“Is everything okay, darling?” he asks.

“Can you end your stream early? I think you’ll regret giving people a live reaction to this.”

Jaskier frowns harder, reluctant to break his promise to the followers he only somewhat childishly considers to be his friends. “What is it? Are you all okay?”

He hears Eskel sigh. “Maybe at least mute the thing?”

Rolling his eyes, he clicks the mute button and types the link for his shirt into the chat along with a brief apology before focusing back on Eskel. “You’re worrying me, what happened?”

“So you know that wikipedia page we were talking about the other day?”

He nods, then realises Eskel can’t see him. “Uh yes, my page, what about it?”

“You might want to take a moment to take a minute to see for yourself?”

“What is it with you guys and being so cryptic? You don’t even all share the same genes so it can’t be that. Maybe it’s just the kind of people I attract, not that I’m complaining per se but still,” Jaskier mutters to himself even as he googles his own name.

He truly has no idea what Eskel was trying to get at until the page loads properly, at which point he blinks at the photo staring back at him. The photo that is most definitely not the one Essi had jokingly submitted and somehow managed to keep there because shut up about my terrible phone camera quality already, you actually look candid so who cares?

“Is this a joke, Esk? What the…” he trails off, scrolling to find lists of achievements and songs and facts that really shouldn’t be associated with his name. Not that it’s his name currently on the page.

“Oh, for the love of-" his breath hitches as he sees a parody of his own song written off as Valdo's- "actually, screw that! There is no love here, what exactly does he think he’s doing? Ugh, can’t a guy livestream in peace nowadays?”

“I’m sorry, Jas. Geralt just told me and I-”

“Geralt was on my wiki?” Jaskier finds himself asking, grinning at the very thought.

“I… wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Uh, yeah? I mean, he actually came and asked me how to email wikipedia but we kind of figured it out from there so…”

Jaskier laughs despite his frustration, his urge to punch Valdo morphing into an urge to kiss his boyfriends. “Who’s ‘we’, by the way?”

Before Eskel can answer, Jaskier’s computer starts rapidly beeping, at which point he turns back to the live and promptly curses when he sees the dozens of messages in the chat asking who Valdo Marx is or, from people who already know who he is, messages asking whether they have permission to throw hands; he'd be lying if he said those messages don't warm his heart.

“I didn’t mute the thing properly. Gods, I’m turning into Vesemir,” Jaskier groans, then slaps his free hand over his mouth and glares at his camera. “None of you tell him I said that, you hear me? I do love him so.”

“How would they even find Vesemir?” Eskel asks in his ear, clearly amused.

“Remind me to remind you how deeply the internet works later. More importantly, you haven’t mentioned Lambert or Aiden yet and I know for a fact they were heading to yours today so…?” Jaskier asks, hoping the former hasn’t punched a wall again or anything like that.

Eskel clears his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, they were heading to ours but they… well, uhm, they called to say they took a detour.”

“To mine?” Jaskier asks, frowning at the thought. He’s more than capable of fixing his own wiki page and as much as he appreciates the moral support, he doesn’t really need any of his loved ones’ presence for such a trivial matter. And anyway, he was already planning on joining the others in the morning so they could spend Sunday together, which means coming over to his makes no sense.

“No, not to yours. To Valdo’s…”

Jaskier’s eyes widen.

Throwing hands on social media is one thing but he doesn’t want any kind of misleading vagueposting from the likes of people who need to steal other people’s wikipedia pages in the direction of people who have no fault other than mildly violent forms of love, and especially not on his behalf.

“What are you still doing on the phone? Go derail their detour! I’ll be there as soon as I can too,” Jaskier says to Eskel, blowing him a kiss through the phone because he knows it’ll make the other man blush.

Once he’s hung up, he turns back to his camera with a pout. “Right, sorry guys, I’ll have to cut this one short so my darling idiots don’t ruin their evenings for the sake of a pathetic leech who just will not let me live! Okay, I promise some cute instagram selfies in exchange for this mess but for now, I’ll see you next week! Alright, bye!”

This time he does press the right buttons and closes both the live and the computer down even as he grabs his coat. Forgoing socks in favour of making sure nobody except Valdo’s weekend gets ruined - he already knows Yennefer or Renfri will be more than happy to throw shade his way to make him regret his failed publicity stunt - and pulling on a pair of boots really not designed for driving, he makes his way out of his apartment as fast as humanly possible.

There’ll be time to be angry at Valdo again later but he’s more than aware that between his family, his friends, and his followers, it’s simply not a big deal. He signed up for drama when he signed up for being famous and yes, he loves fighting against anyone or anything that tries to stop him from sharing his music, but he’s really not about to waste any more time worrying about all that at the moment.

At the end of the day, it's nice to be pretty impressive but there's nothing better than being pretty loved.

what are the logistics of this au? whatever you want them to be ;)

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier

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atiny-ahgase · 4 years ago

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If You Can’t Stand The Heat

Author’s Note: This is an idea that I’ve had for a while but I couldn’t get the chance to write it. Also, I’m basically clueless to any and all culinary terms but I’m trying my best. As usual, I’m open to suggestions, feedback and creative criticism. Sorry that it took me so long to write this, I’m tryna organize some things...Anyway, I hope you’re all doing okay. Sending love- Gabby. (Ps. I had no idea what to name this soo)..

Summary: Y/N and Yunho have been friends since their high school days, they had first met at Y/n’s parents’ restaurant. Bonding over Yunho’s inability to cook even the simplest of dishes; the friendship has managed to withstand the tables of time. Y/n is now the head chief of their parents’ restaurant and finds Yunho in a culinary dilemma. He’s trying to improve his cooking to impress someone that he likes, being the great friend that they are Y/N offers to help him despite the feelings that they’ve harboured for Yunho for years.

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Pairing: Yunho x Gender Neural Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Gender Neutral Reader, Yunho starting a fire,

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“Yunho you do realize that you’re supposed to wash the vegetables before you start cooking them right?” you jokingly ask your best friend while looking at him on a video call. “But they’re easier to wash when they’re already in cute little bite-sized pieces,” he responds while attempting to dice some uncleaned carrots and failing miserably. Rolling your eyes you respond, “If you wash chopped vegetables you're removing all of the water-soluble vitamins dummy,” you chuckle, “also; you do know that you still have the knife cover on right?” Even from your subpar camera quality, you could still see a pink tint spreading from his ears to his face; gently adorning his cheeks. “I was just making sure you were paying attention”, he laughs awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.

Yunho had never been that skilled in the kitchen and by that you meant that he was absolutely horrible in the kitchen and you didn’t feel comfortable leaving him near a stove unsupervised. Sometimes you’ve wondered how he lasted this long without setting something on fire; he’s been very close to doing so on multiple occasions though. Yunho was a handful but at least your time together was never boring. He was always able to brighten your day even just by doing the simplest of things.

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You’d first met Yunho while working at your parents’ restaurant, you had just returned from school and the Music Festival down the street had attracted a lot of teenagers to the restaurant. Usually, you'd only work on the weekends but the packed dining area and waiting room had proven to be too much for the usual staff to handle. Changing into your uniform which consisted of a white dress shirt and black dress pants with comfortable shoes, you hastily made your way to the dining area.

You’ve always loved the atmosphere of the restaurant, what could be more satisfying than delivering edible works of art to others. Each dish that you served was a well-sculpted masterpiece waiting for consumption. Every aspect from the plates they were served on to the type of ingredients used were all thoroughly thought out with the goal of enchanting the pallet and while enriching the body.

The day sped by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it closing time had arrived. Your parents had left the task of closing up to you as they went to procure produce for the next day. The kitchen was cleaned, dining chairs wiped and tucked away ready to welcome new customers on a new day. Wiping the perspiration off of your brow you grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, only to be greeted by a small group of boys entering the dining area. “Could they not read?” you thought to yourself while welcoming them with your signature ‘Customer Service’ smile. “Good evening, sorry but we’re closed for the night,” you politely stated while looking at the group in question.

Now that they had fully entered the restaurant you could see their faces more clearly, they were all incredibly handsome; easily surpassing anyone you had ever seen in magazines. The one that seemed to be the shortest of the bunch let out a soft sigh while running his hand through his red hair before speaking. “Sorry about that we must not have seen the sign,” he smiled softly “, Yunho isn’t feeling very well so we thought that maybe he should get something to eat,” he continued while gesturing to one of his friends. “We’ve been out all day and I think the noise, the heat and the fact that all he ate today was a sandwich is finally getting to him”, he continues before letting his head gently hang down.

Looking up at the friend in question you are greeted by two warm, brown orbs; the caramel colour sparkled more brightly than the richest caramel sauce you’ve ever served. His complexion was bad, the pale white undertones reminding you of the pastry sugar you use to garnish deserts; smooth and delicate, perfect for baked goods, not so much for people. Was it wrong to be this infatuated with someone who was feeling ill? Even at his worse, this man was still a sight to behold. Towering above you with a smile that shone so bright, like the crystal clear chandeliers that hung over your head his smile could easily light up a room. Truly a dazzling sight to behold...

The sound of someone’s voice had pulled you out of your thoughts. Recomposing yourself quickly you came to realize that it belonged to the red-haired boy. “We should get going guys,” he stated with a dejected tone. “They must be tired”, you thought “, one meal surely couldn’t hurt”. “The kitchen staff have all left,” you spoke, nervousness in your voice, “but I can make you something if you’d like.” You averted your eyes as your face began to heat up, you’ve only ever cooked for your family and the restaurant staff. What if you messed up? What if they don’t like it? Your mind flooded with negative possibilities- “Thank you.” You looked up, searching for the owner of that sweet and gentle voice. If you had to describe it it would be an Angel food cake; soft, light and airy; it filled you with comfort.

You smiled brightly when your eyes meet. Yunho was his name, right? It’s amazing; how could one person shine so brightly? He wasn’t even trying, with washed-out skin, beads of perspiration and soft airy gasps for breathe he still manages to get your attention as the most handsome in the room. If this was his presence when ill how brightly was his light when he wasn’t? You felt a blush creeping up to your cheeks. You shook it off, trying to stay focused on the task at hand; preparing a dinner that won’t upset an already upset stomach. Easy right? Keeping that in mind you opted to make a Simple Italian Gnocchi Soup with extra vegetables to boost his antioxidants. It wasn’t the most extravagant meal you’ve made but you didn’t want to overwhelm his pallet or upset his stomach further.

You went to the kitchen and prepared the meal because it was simple it didn’t take you to long. Plating the meals you arranged them on the waiters’ table and began rolling it to the party of boys.

The loud, environment of the bustling dining room you remembered from earlier paled in comparison to the thunderous sounds made by the group of boys upon the arrival of food. Their excited noises and gestures filled the building and also your heart. Despite their slightly reserved demeanour, they had an almost childlike aura surrounding them. It was a warm comforting feeling which you gladly welcomed. Placing their meal on the stark white table cloth, you smiled shyly before retreating to the kitchen.

You stayed there attempting to busy yourself with your phone, this action, however, proved to be futile. Your mind was filled with the bright-eyed boy seated only a few steps away from you. If you stood up you could peek through the door into the dining room, where you were sure he was eating happily. Radiating that joyous aura that had already captured your heart and refused to let go.

You don’t know how much time had passed but you were pulled out of your thoughts by the kitchen door swinging open and colliding with your leg. “Ouch,” you surprisingly exclaimed. You really weren’t expecting that. Pulling your eyes away from your slightly bruised leg you look up to be greeted by two bright brown orbs dripping with concern. “Oh my god I’m so sorry-” he began to explain rather quickly, words mending together as he desperately attempted to apologize. Your laugh had quickly cut him off though and his once worried expression is replaced with a puzzled look.

Placing your hand over your stomach in an attempt to ease the pain of your laugher you tried your best to compose yourself. Further investigation of the boy in front of you; you finally realized why he had entered the kitchen in the first place. With him, he had all of the used dishes and silverware stacked neatly on the waiters’ table. “Thank you for bringing them in I’ll take it from here,” you stated courteously while stretching for the handle of the cart. Your action was deemed unsuccessful due to one rather handsome and seemingly troublesome male grabbing your hand. Little did you know that this one chance encounter would turn into the strongest friendship that you’ve ever had.

“I can help,” he smiled brightly at you.

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You smile fondly before you are yanked out of your thoughts by what you assumed to be the sound of water being poured on a hot pot. Placing your hands on your temple you massage your growing headache as you look at your hopeless friend who seems to make preparing fried vegetables look like a warzone. “Hey, Yunho, why don’t you just come over and I’ll make anything you wanna eat okay,” you say to your best friend who looks like he’s having a fistfight with a clove of garlic and the garlic is unfortunately winning.

“You know that I love your cooking but I really can’t,” he states, “I need to learn how to do this kinda stuff on my own.” You lightly chuckle at his determination; of all of the years that you’ve both known each other, he’s never once expressed any interest in learning how to cook on his own. “Where did this sudden revelation come from?” you inquire; eyebrows raising in interest. “I just wanna be able to make a fancy steak dinner for two,” he mumbles while stretching the back of his head. You couldn’t stop the shocked gasp from escaping your mouth. Did he just say what you thought he just said? From the red hue that had made its way up to Yunho’s face accompanied by wide eyes and an agape mouth, you knew that your assumption had been right.

Yunho had a crush.

You couldn’t believe it. You had just assumed that Yunho could never be interested in anyone. You’ve both been friends for so long and he’d never even shown the slightest of interests in anyone. “Pretend that you didn’t hear that,” he shouts while pointing an accusatory finger at his phone screen trying his best not to appear like a deer in the headlights. “Pretend that I didn’t hear what? That my little YuYu is tryna impress someone with a lovely dinner,” you tease him; smiling from ear to ear. He released an exasperated sigh before placing his head on the cold marble counter in a futile attempt to cool his heating face. “How about you take them to my restaurant? You guys can sit at the best table we have and everything,” you offer a suggestion to your best friend; your nosey side getting the better of you.

“No, I wanna do this on my own” he states while stepping closer to his phone screen, a look of determination clearly on his face. “Wow, you must really like them then,” you mummer softly; more to yourself than to Yunho but that doesn’t stop him from hearing every word. “I do like them, I have since the very first day I met them,” he says, his eyes never once leaving yours. A clear glint shone from them as they stared directly at you.

You both were unsure of how long you’ve been in this staring contest but you broke apart upon hearing the blaring sound of Yunho’s fire alarm. He’s finally done it. It took a couple of years but he’s finally succeeded. He has successfully started a fire. It was honestly only a matter of time. You see Yunho rush to the sink to get water to extinguish the fire “, No, you can’t use water on a grease fire!” you exclaim. “Find a lid to cover the pan. The fire will suffocate once there is no more oxygen,” you instructed. Yunho followed your instructions perfectly and managed to get the fire under control.

Releasing a sigh of relief you slouched into your chair as Yunho attempted to shut off his fire alarm. “That’s an interesting technique. I’ve never seen someone beat their alarm with a broomstick before,” you commented, chuckling at your friend. “This isn’t funny Y/N. Why am I so hopeless?” he asked sighing heavily as he rested his head into his palms. “You’re not hopeless; you can reach to the top shelf at the grocery store for me,” you jokingly respond trying to lighten the mood. You’ve never seen him this distraught before, this must be important to him, they must be really important to him.

Yunho chooses to ignore your comment leaving his face to rest in his sweaty palms. There had to be something that you could do, you were his best friend after all. “Okay how about this? I’ll teach you everything that you need to know,” look at him biting your lips (that had always been a nervous habit of yours). He peeled his hands away from his face and you readied yourself for rejection. “You always were a nosey one weren’t you?” he said smirking at you. “You could say that it’s my middle name,” you smile at him.

Thus began your weekly cooking sessions well more like weekend-ly cause you’d meet up every weekend with the kidlike giant you called Yunho. The first few sessions were just basic knowledge or at least that’s what you thought but apparently it wasn’t because Yunho could literally burn water if you gave him a chance. You all went through everything from how to light the stove to how to chop vegetables and even how to properly season meats. I was really fun which wasn’t very surprising since you were teaching Yunho after all, he was basically a walking party. You were usually really serious in the kitchen but there was just something about Yunho that just always brought out your childish side, his playfulness was highly contagious.

Yunho was surprisingly a fast learner, you knew that he’d always excel in physical activities but growing up you were never in the same classes so it kinda surprised you how good his memory was. After 2 weeks and four sessions, he was already making the perfect sauce and chopping vegetables like a pro. Well, he wasn’t as good as you but he really was amazing, once he’s really put his mind to something he always does well at it.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Yunho calling your name. “Y/n, earth to Y/n. Is anybody in there?”. You jump back slightly surprised by his presence. Not like he was here all day cooking with you or anything. Raising your head slightly you look up at the male who easily towering over you. He smiles slightly, a soft shape of pink dusting his cheeks. Holding a silver fork he raises his hand towards your mouth, what appeared to be a medium-rare steak sitting on its edge. Oh yeah, you both were making steak today. This was the second to last day that you both would be working on individual components of the meal, next week you were supposed to work on preparing fresh salad. You were convinced that Yunho could at least do that on his own but he desperately expressed that he couldn’t, almost begging you to teach him. Was fresh salad really that difficult to make?

You opened your mouth allowing him to place feed you the steak. Retrieving the meat from the fork you chew the tender substance letting the taste fill your tastebuds. You couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face; it was good, like really good. You’d season it with a bit more garlic but you’ve been to restaurants whos meals didn’t taste that good. “This is amazing YuYu!” you exclaim pulling him into a hug, you were so incredibly proud of him; granted he could only cook one meal but isn’t it better to be great at making one meal then be able to make multiple subpar dishes or at least that’s what you thought. Yunho looks down in a futile attempt to hide his evergrowing blush spreading from his face to his neck. “You really think so Y/N”, he asks while scratching the back of his neck.

“Of course I do. It’s really good,” you state while reaching for a knife and fork to procure another bite for yourself. “So there is nothing you would change?” he inquires while looking at you; smiling at the little dance you did after taking another bite. “Well,” you begin while finishing your second bite before speaking “, personally I’d like it to be seasoned with a little more garlic but that’s just my personal preference,” you continue while wiping a speck of sauce off of the corner of your face. You see Yunho scurry to the kitchen counter where he had a notebook which he called his “Taste-book” cause it’s a play on the word Textbook. You had once made the mistake of pointing out that he was technically wrong for naming it that because his book was a notebook and not a textbook to which he responded with a simple “, It’s actually better than a notebook because it contains your words.” How were you supposed to respond to that? How? You just left it as it was cause there was no way that you’d be able to win a fight against him..unless he let you.

You saw him scribble some notes in his hardly legible penmanship, you had no idea how he was able to comprehend what he wrote but he’d always say the same about you. Glancing across the dining table you look at the clock before releasing a long sigh. Yunho had always left at around 6 every day, he could stay longer if he wanted to but you could never muster up the courage to ask him to stay even a minute longer. It wasn’t like he was interested in you anyway; he already had someone that he liked. You feel your lower lip begin to quiver as you attempt to hold in the tears which were attempting to fall. You’ve known that this day would come but you thought that you had at least a few more years, just enough for you to find someone else to love, that there would be someone who would make you feel at least an ounce of the happiness that you felt when you were with Yunho.

You liked him, like you really liked him. You thought that maybe you would be okay standing at the sidelines as long as he was happy but a part of you always believed the pretty words that he would speak to you when he had just a little too much to drink on the days when he’s spent a little too long with his friends. He’d always drunkenly end up at your doorstep slurring something about him being hungry and wanting to eat your cooking. After making some simple Hangover Soup for him he’d lay on the couch resting his head on your lap while you aimlessly played with his hair until he fell asleep. He’d always nuzzle himself into your lap murmuring to you about how happy he was to have met you and that he was always the happiest when he was with you. And a part of you would always just blindly believed him, you needed to believe him. You helplessly gripped at that little glimmer of hope that his words gave you, you would’ve held unto them forever if you could. Although it hurt to hold on for so long you knew that it would pain you so much more to let go.

You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes from gently trickling down your cheeks. Hastily wiping the tears which escaped your eyes trying your best to seem as inconspicuous as possible. But Yunho being the Golden Retriever that he was almost immediately picked up on the drastic change in your mood. “What’s wrong Y/n?” you hear his ask as he rushes to your side holding your shoulders in his hands while bending slightly to look you in your eyes.

“Nothing dummy,” you force yourself to say while putting on your best fake laugh “, it’s the onions that you left on the counter.” Slightly pushing at his chest you step back slightly before grabbing at the open bowl of onions that Yunho had neglected to cover. “I didn’t think that I had to teach you how to clean up after yourself YuYu,” you chuckle while raising your eyebrow slightly. Yunho looks at you with a puzzled expression probably attempting to read your mood. Afraid that he’d see through your lie you remind him that it was almost time for him to go. You see Yunho’s eyebrows furrow before he pulls you into a hug. This hug was so much different than any of the countless hugs that you’ve shared before, you relaxed in his arms as you held unto his shirt holding on for as long as you could before he inevitably pulled away. But he never did, neither of you did. You stayed there enjoying each other’s embrace, drowning out everything around you as listened to the steady beat of each others’ hearts.

Hearing the blearing sound of what you could only identify as Mingi’s car horn breaking through the silence that you both had grown comfortable in you jump slightly. You attempt to end the hug that you and Yunho had been engaging in but this action was soon proven to be futile as you feel Yunho’s grip tighten around your back pulling you in even closer. You feel a warmth in your cheeks as you attempt to calm your heart; your mind already going into overdrive due to your close proximity. “Same time next week teacher,” he softly whispers into your ear before finally pulling apart. You could see the smirk on his face before he turns around to grab his things.

Why was he doing this to you? Holding on to you so tightly when all you were trying to do is let go. Showing you the world in colour knowing that one day you’d have to wake up to a world of black and white, a world without Yunho.

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Today was supposed to be your last class teaching Yunho and honestly, you were both happy and sad. Happy because you no longer have to fake a smile as he happily cooked, practising for the person that he loved; a person who wasn’t you. Being in his presence hurt when his smile wasn’t because of you, it hurt knowing that pretty soon he’d leave and you’d hardly ever get to see him. He won’t show up at your apartment at ungodly hours asking for soup and snuggles, you’d really miss that. You’d always stock up on all of the ingredients that you needed every time he spoke about going out drinking with Hongjoong and the boys; rushing through the grocery store frantically searching for everything that you needed because he was coming over and he got pouty every time he couldn’t get soup. You could never say “No” to those puppy dog eyes filled with sadness upon hearing that you couldn’t make him his hangover remedy.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind you take a few deep breathes before walking down the hallway of Yunho’s apartment building. Yunho had texted you earlier saying that he couldn’t make it to your place because he was really busy with work. You told him that you could just reschedule for another day but it seemed like he was having absolutely none of it. So there you were walking down the halls of Yunho’s apartment at 6 p.m. because he couldn’t get off work before that. He usually didn’t work on weekends but he did say that work was getting more demanding, you really hoped that he wasn’t burning himself out in order to impress someone. Reaching his apartment door you gently knock on the oak surface.

Waiting for a response you bounce on your heels until you hear him shout from somewhere in his probably dishevelled apartment. Grasping the doorknob you step into his apartment, you’ve been there at least a hundred times but it looked so different. All of the lights were off; the entire living area dimly lit due to the candles burning. Looking down you see a trail of bright red rose petals contrasting with the dark wood of the apartment floor. Dropping your bags in confusion you follow the trail which leads to Yunho’s dining area. Turning the corner you were greeted by a candlelight dinner. Placed at the centre of the table was a bouquet of your favourite flowers with rose petals bordering the vase. Tall slender candles framed the room burning their bright lights throughout the area, you can smell a hint of lavender; your favourite scent.

Glancing beyond the beautifully decorated table you spot Yunho dressed in a dark brown blazer and a bouquet of roses in his hand. Even the dimly lit lights of the room couldn’t prevent you from seeing the blush that consumed his face. “T-table for two?” he asked fumbling over his words. “Oh umm these are for you,” he says averting his eyes and extending his hand with the roses. Taking the bouquet from his hand you smile before mumbling a soft “Thank you”. If someone had asked you what you expected to see when you walked into Yunho’s apartment that sight was going to be the last response on your list; if it was there at all. Hearing shuffling you look away from the roses in your hands you see the man in question pulling a seat at the table before looking at you hopefully. You’ve never seen that look in his eyes before, a bright glint of happiness mixed together with despair. Was this the cause? Were you the cause?

Taking a seat at the table you wait for Yunho to speak but only silence filled the room. Turning around in search of Yunho you’re greeted with emptiness. What is going on? Your mind was racing the longer you remained in that room alone. Soon enough Yunho’s voice breaks through the deafening silence “, Your appetizer,” he states before placing a small plate containing a few pieces of what appeared to be Cheesy Pesto Bread. You smiled to yourself while looking at the dish, it didn’t look perfect but it screamed Yunho, it was funny how he could take such a simple dish and make it so..him. You loved it; you loved him.

Looking up from the plate you notice Yunho’s eyes staring at you, the warm brown hue drip like honey off a spoon. Taking a bite of the bread you’re pleasantly surprised, for something that you didn’t teach him it tasted amazing. Looking up from your meal you hear a soft chuckle from Yunho. “You have crumbs on your face,” he says while extending his hand to wipe the remnants of your meal off of your face. You smile softly at the action. Was this all for you?

Dinner was mostly silent besides the gentle clattering of each other’s silverware against the plates. Once you had both completed your meal Yunho cleared his throat before sitting up straight looking you in your eyes.

“I like you Y/n,” he states voice faltering slightly as he attempts to swallow his nervousness. “Since the day that I met you, I always wanted you by my side. I don’t think that I can live another day without being able to call you mine,” he continues. “I know that its a lot to take in and I’ll wait for your answer for as long as it takes just promise me that you’ll at least consider it.” You look into his eyes shining so brightly even under dim lights

“Can I answer right now?” you inquire. “I’d rather you not; I need to emotionally prepare myself for rejection,” he responds half-jokingly while scratching the back of his neck eyes suddenly finding interest in the candles which glow by the door. “I like you to Yunho,” you state while reaching for his hand from across the table. “I like you so much that I sometimes don’t even know what to do-” you begin. “Date me,” he interjects; his voice more steady than before eyes once again finding solace in your own. “Okay,” you respond squeezing his hand slightly while smiling at him.

“You know that you didn’t need to do all of this for me right?” you inquire giggling slightly at Yunho’s extravagant nature. He waited three weeks, honestly maybe even more; just to be able to prepare you a candlelight dinner so he could confess He really didn’t have to, you would have easily said yes if you were both sitting eating pizza while watching movies in your pyjamas on a Friday night. “I didn’t take confessing to you lightly cause I don’t take my love for you lightly,” he responded without an ounce of doubt in his voice. His determination was a personality trait which seemed to have extended to his love life as well.

“So what dish are you making for me next?”

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Tagging @yunhoshoe cause he said so...hope it lives up to your expectations

#ateez fluff #ateez angst #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #Yunho fic #Ateez fic #i worked way too hard on this #But I love it tho

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

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Btvs Headcanons:

Hc: You work in a store they frequent, meet them that way, and feelings develop. How each character would show you that they care about you/ask you on a date after getting to know them.

Edited to include Oz. [Jenny Calendar hc is separate here ]

Warning: one small mention of sex. and in one hc the store is a butchers

I thought this would be fun, maybe a little different than my usual. You can request some people that aren’t on here if you like. Or a different job or scenario where you would meet them.💜

Spike:

- you work at a 24 hour store, he comes in at weird times of the night

- You catch Spike stealing and take pity on him, letting it slide (he looks a bit gaunt, maybe he’s not eating properly)

- There’s no cameras the place you work is crappy so you maintain eye contact and just nod at him, allowing him to take whatever it is he’s concealed under his leather duster

- He’d start to come in and either blatantly steal so you would catch him and talk to him or buy lots of stuff he didn’t need with money he had ‘borrowed’ from one of the scoobies

- He talks a lot and appears to be trying to impress you, it makes you smile

- But also he’s very attentive to you and asks you things about yourself, wanting to learn everything he can

- He starts waiting for you, watching through the glass, going through whole packs of cigarettes making sure you’re okay and no customers are being nasty

- He will come in and threaten to drain them dry if they say one more horrible thing to you, it’s happened twice

- He follows you home before eventually offering to walk with you

- He’ll probably bottle all of his feelings up for a long time, professing his love in a very heartfelt speech and crashing his lips to yours before actually asking you on a date

Angel:

(I’m so sorry if you don’t eat meat)

- You work at the butchers and Angel used to come in all the time really early before the sun rose

- You were embarrassed such an attractive man saw you in your overalls smelling of raw meat

- Too embarrassed to ask yourself why he wanted so much animal blood

- You soon had his regular order ready and waiting for him, he always seemed to be in a rush. This meant there was a little time for you to talk because he already had his order

- You instigated, asking him lots of questions with you getting one word answers (you think he’s not interested and stop)

- But he’s just trying to keep his distance, he knows what happens when he gets too involved. Things seem to go wrong

- He eventually bumps into you after work one evening, not able to stay away completely

- You work long hours so he’s trying to make sure you’re getting home okay by hanging back in the shadows

- Eventually starts to offer to walk you and you happily agree, chatting nonstop about the delivery or what you were taught that day about slicing into something

- He enjoys just hearing you talk, not able to help smiling at the way you animatedly recount your day to him, eventually one day he’ll offer for you to visit his place making a date out of it

Xander:

- you probably work with him, one of the many jobs he took on after high school

- you both work at a pizza place, he delivers you make the orders

- he acts really weird around you at first, dropping things and stumbling over his words when he speaks to you

- he cracks some childish jokes but you laugh along with him, finding him sweet

- he grins wide when you start to joke back, pulling funny faces behind the manager’s back when it’s turned

- He’ll be thinking of asking you on a date for a really long time, probably since he first met you

- He’s nervous and he doesn’t want you laughing in his face, he probably doesn’t think he has a shot with someone as great as you

- But he just rushes out and says it one night when you’re both grabbing your jackets to leave

- You smile, scan his face to check he’s joking, then nod and say you’d love to

- You go to the Bronze, have a contest to see who can catch the most peanuts in your mouth (if you’re allergic, it’s some other competition, maybe who can finish their drink the fastest)

- He might let you win and then just lean straight in and kiss you when you celebrate

Buffy:

- Buffy comes into the late night store you work at for gum or snacks (something she can carry while she patrols) she recognises you as her regular cashier after a few months.

- I feel like she has a lot on her plate, forgive her for not noticing you straight away

- She’s probs trying to get over someone atm or struggling to trust after her last relationship

- You’re extra friendly with her and she realises after talking it over with Willow that you were actually flirting

- Realises the brief interaction she gets with you makes her feel happy. Real happy and she doesn’t have to be responsible for anyone but herself when she’s chatting away with you

- Starts to ask you questions about yourself enjoying your company. Every time without fail she asks when you get off work, she’s concerned you’re always walking home in the dark

- starts to loop back past your store when she’s on patrol, pretending she was still in the area when you got off

- offering to walk you home a lot, accidentally dropping a pile of weapons once and having to pretend she was doing a woodworking class

- she eventually asks you on a date, encouraged by her friends to make the first move, and you’ll go to the Bronze, dancing and laughing the whole time

Faith:

- you work at the convenience store near the Mayor’s office

- She comes in on her way back to her crappy motel

- she feels a bit conflicted about sneaking around behind Buffy’s back but your bright smile to greet her almost makes her forget

- you caught her eye pretty much the first time she saw you waiting by the register

- she usually asks for some smokes and started to offer to share one with you on your break

- if you smoke, you say yes, if you don’t you say you’ll still come outside with her on your break to keep her company

- you’ll mostly talk with her chipping in at first and then she finds out how good it is to vent to someone

- your break’s over but you tell her you don’t want her to be on her own struggling through her thoughts

- you ask if she can wait, but she doesn’t really do waiting around

- she does give you the address to the motel she’s staying at though and she’ll smoke every hour until she sees you walking

- this is your first date, the one you count as your first date anyway

- you spend the whole night talking, sometimes even laughing. You make her feel like a person, not just a Slayer

Cordy:

- you work at the mall. Specifically a boutique or somewhere Cordy regularly visits

- she’s kind to you but a bit abrupt if you start talking about anything that isn’t a sale

- her dad no longer has any money and she’s a struggling actress after hs and you overhear her phone conversation about how hard everything is

- she wants this pretty dress that you know she’d look beautiful in

- you offer her your employee discount, telling her to keep it quiet

- after that, she specifically requests you and after her fifth visit realises she has been coming and looking forward to seeing you more than the dresses

- this means she’s in deep

- she won’t beat around the bush, she’ll ask you if you won’t ask her

- “Bronze. 8pm” with a little wink, hauling her shopping bags with her before leaving

- You have a great time and you meet up again she does little fashion shows for you before you go out, liking your eye for fashion and asks you to help her choose outfits for your dates

- She’ll want to go public places for dates to show off your relationship

Giles:

- Book store (obviously)

- You’re the most knowledgeable about his particular interest (cough, demons, cough) and he is attracted straight away to your apparent intelligence

- You already know about demons and everything, having studied it extensively as well as running into a vampire late one night and managing to get away unscathed

- He marvelled at this and you tell it so casually, explaining that you just did what the books told you and put it in practice

- He’s lonely really, always hanging around people a lot younger that don’t take him as seriously as he takes himself, but you do

- You think he’s fun to be around, he probably doesn’t wait too long, asking you for a drink the first or second time he meets you.

- He knows life’s too short, especially in Sunnydale

- You appreciate his dry humour and the way he isn’t just bookish, he has a lot of really great qualities

- You haven’t seen him as Ripper, but you know it’s there. He’s open with you and he’ll tell you about his past. He believes in trust

- You go on a lot of dates after that first drink, you even get introduced to the Scoobies and become a kind of parent figure too

Riley Finn:

- you bag his groceries at the supermarket.

- He’s always polite, makes you feel like a human being not just somebody serving him

- Always chats about the weather or something generic that won’t compromise his job, but he likes talking to you

- He occasionally makes a comment to make you smile because seeing your real smile, not the one you put on for customers, is so much sweeter

- He’ll probably come in regularly, same time, same day every week for his shopping now (bc you’re there)

- Bumps into you accidentally while you’re stocking a shelf and helps you pick everything up, smiling at the way you get a little flustered, insisting it was his fault not yours

- He’ll probably ask you if you’ve ever heard of the Bronze, which of course you have because that’s the only half-decent place in town

- Says he’d really like to see you there, like maybe tonight, so you go and have a really great time

- He says he doesn’t want to wait to see you again, but he’s very respectful will probably give you his number so that you can call him first and you don’t feel pressured into a second date or anything

Willow:

- You work at a magic shop

- you help her find the ingredients to a spell she’s been itching to try and give her little tips

- She really likes that you know lots about magic and what ingredient you could swap out for a better result

- You’ll grow close, she’ll pop in and tell you how well/badly the latest spells went

- She’ll tell stories in her characteristic way and you’ll smile at how cute she is and her fun vocabulary you’ll find yourself picking up

- You’ll offer to meet her and help her out with some spells

- She’ll bounce off the walls in excitement

- Probably spend the whole day making sure her dorm room is ‘just right’ for you to see and that she’s made sure about ten times that Buffy is definitely going to be out

- You’ll do the spell, it’ll be a big success because working together shows you that you have this amazing connection

- Then you’ll be talking and sharing loads for hours

- She’ll take you to the Bronze if it’s not too late, if it’s too late she’ll ask what you’re doing at the weekend and invite you then

Tara:

- Also at a magic shop. Probably specifically the Magic Box, after Giles takes it on

- You’re a Scooby and Tara’s moved to Sunnydale for college. She wanted to check out the magic box straight away

- You catch each other’s eye and she looks a little shy

- Starts to stutter when you make conversation, but you’re patient with her, giving her time to finish her words that have become jumbled in your presence.

- She asks for help with finding something only when she absolutely has to, but you’re always kind with her when she does and she smiles so bright when she finds what she’s looking for, scrunching her mouth to the side a little when she looks back at you

- You start to recommend places in Sunnydale for her to check out, trying to gauge if she would be into you or not. You eventually offer to take her and show her around and she nods excitedly

- You both have a really great time and she makes you feel special. She talks a lot more now she’s comfortable with you

- you suggest you could try some magic together, only if she wanted

- She does, you meet up a lot and you date and magically create a cat to own together

- You both have a long, happy life together

Anya:

- You work in the magic box with her. I feel like you both didn’t get on at first

- you didn’t understand her and she felt misunderstood, making her snappy and blunt with you

- eventually, you started to understand she needed a bit of time and you explained yourself more. Why you were doing things, being patient with her and fully giving her everything you could to help her understand the reasoning

- she really appreciated it, nobody ever did this for her without some level of teasing

- she explains about being an ex-vengeance demon. You can’t say you’re shocked (you live in Sunnydale and work in the magic box)

- you were patient with her and she quickly asked if you could start having sex trying to plan out your relationship

- you told her you would rather get to know her first, especially considering you worked together (leading to a chat about workplace relationships going wrong, which leads to an anecdote about her knowing this because of her vengeance days)

- but the feelings were undeniable and you started dating very quickly

- she’ll probably start dropping hints about marriage or the equivalent very soon too

- you work at a record store.

- He comes in pretty regularly, but he doesn’t really say much

- Not until you notice a record he’s holding and start to gush about it

- Your manager told you to talk to customers and encourage them to buy more, but this wasn’t that. And he could tell

- He loved your enthusiasm and he wanted to get to know you

- You caught his eye probably one of the first times he saw you working behind the counter, humming to a song which happened to be one of his favourites

- He just knew then that he wanted to date you

- whispering, “who are they?” but to himself because he always come into the store alone (he wants the experience, just him and the music… and maybe a glance or two at you)

- He might bring some fliers in one day, asking if the store will put them up, advertising Dingoes’ latest gig

- He’ll say you could come, if you want, with a characteristic shrug

- And you’ll obviously say yes and he likes how excitable you are, you contrast with his chill vibe

- And you go and have a great time

- then you talk after, telling him how cool his band is

- You’ll hit it off, finding his phrasing and humour endearing. He’ll gift you a guitar pick from your first sort of date. He’s a romantic

- You’ll mostly come to wherever he’s playing and have a date after

- he’s very sweet, very caring. Always offers to take you somewhere else for a date but you insist on supporting him and getting a drink after

- won’t be much of a talker, but you will always feel loved by him

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calypsoff · 4 years ago

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Fifty Nine. Part 2

Clinton honestly plays at my heartstrings with Chris, just to see a good father. He is ever so attentive towards Chris and I love to see it, he just comes out with the most random things too which makes me laugh but to see a father, it’s nice to see. I don’t know what one is, it’s been tainted for me because of my own and I don’t think I know what a real father should be doing “you good now yeah? No more tears” Clinton placed his arm around Chris and patted his shoulder “no more, I’m good now. I ain’t seen y’all in a while, I missed it. You know how much I missed you when I was locked up but yeah, I’m good” Chris makes me so proud, he really does. He just so open with his emotions with his family, even with me but I love that “so what is happening in the family, how is the baby? Tell me” Clinton asked Chris, he probably wants to hear what he has to say which I don’t mind “good, erm me and Barry aren’t friends anymore. I’m not sure what he is on at all, we just not speaking anymore. He was saying things that angered me that I ended up beating him, in the middle of iHop and I got arrested and now I got a court case. So that happened” Clinton looks horrified “again!? What did I say to you about letting anyone get to you! Seriously, you have so much going for you. I said it to you when you were first time arrested, I said to you that you are not like those boys out there that need to do these types of things. Barry isn’t proceeding the way you are Chris; you need to make new friends in that field. The people of VA you leave behind, nobody is happy for you” Clinton was harsh there “we understand why you both didn’t come to the home and we appreciate that you even came to VA, I’m very happy to see you both even came but we will come to you both” Joyce added “I’m not hiding though, fuck them” Chris said “you’re not hiding son, you’re fully there and we see it” Clinton is right “move to Cali, then I can see you when I want and then when Robyn isn’t speaking to me I can see you all” Chris would mention that “no baby, your sister is here” Chris pulled a face “but I would like you to be safe, you know Robb is throwing threats” Clinton looked at Joyce “I think your mother wants to stay in VA; our family is here. Only you are in Cali” Chris shrugged his dad’ arm off “yeah the family that don’t fuck with your son, ok. It’s just me” Chris is offended by what was said, I don’t blame him.

Chris as he does he’s walked off because he’s not happy, I’m not going to get myself involved because it’s his family “Clinton leave him, he needs space and we give him that” Joyce said as Clinton was going to get up and follow him “I just don’t want him to be sad, it’s a lovely day. Seeing each other” taking in a deep breath “do you all still speak to the family still? It’s just Chris?” I questioned, I want to know more actually “they speak to us yes, but when it comes to Chris he is a bit of a taboo, Robb is the first born grandchild. Spoilt, so when that all happened they took sides and it hurts me so much because he’s my only son, but I also want my family, We decided to just keep both sides happy and not speak on either, I know my son feels I am betraying him. I don’t know what else I can do without losing the family I got and have nothing” pressing my lips into a hard thin line “but then Chris had nothing besides you three? How was that fair on him. In that situation, coming out of jail and he came back to nasty behaviour. I just feel it’s hard for him, he did what he needed to do to be out, I won’t ever say he did wrong. You both got your boy back and that alone should be praised but how you think he feels when now he’s between you and that family you want” I shouldn’t be involved in this because it’s not my issue at all “it’s ok because I will have my own family” oh Chris heard then “son, you’re taking it the wrong way. You knew this, you knew the family didn’t forgive. We would always choose you over them, it is never like that but we are ok in VA, we really are so please let’s not argue, can we not” Chris made his way over to me and sat next to me “I have no family” looking over at Chris “stop” I don’t want this to be an argument, we didn’t come here for that.

Both Clinton and Chris went out to get some groceries, they took Frank with them. I wasn’t letting them go alone, I’m not risking it at all “Joyce, it’s playing on my mind and you can tell me to mind my business but. They want to kill your son, does that not hurt you and want you to not deal with them anymore?” I’m still on it “kills me deep inside. My sister came and she said my son is suffering, I said to her so is my son as you all wish nothing but bad on him so all he keeps getting is bad, I told Chris to go to church more, he needs the blessing because there is nasty people out there that are wishing it, those people is my family. I do want a change but all I know is VA, I am comfortable here” as a mother I can imagine how hurt she is about it all “all I knew is Barbados Joyce, but I did it and I was happier, hand on my heart a change could be best for you all because he wants to protect you all too, but that’s something you all want. Chris is a hurt man and I see it sometimes, he loves Barbados, he loves my family and minus my dad but how close we are. I see his smile and then he comes here, and he has no family around, it’s a shame. All they are doing now is selling stories about him, my publicist told me, and I said deny it all, he doesn’t know that, but I do. It’s just a nasty situation where now his cousin is threatening him, I feel like someone has put some witchcraft on him, you’re right. All those bad wishes add up and maybe we need to go church, but I think if you really want a change, make it” they are thinking on moving then they need to do that now before Chris gets the house for them.

Joyce touched my bump and it made me giggle “my mother would be jealous right now, she just calls me on FaceTime to stare at my bump. She’s so excited about this, she’s telling me she will move in for me and she will do this and that and I’m like hold on mommy, I am ok. Chris and I are ok, I just know Chris is going to be so supportive. But I think I will let her stay for a few days and then she needs to go home, she will take over. The baby is going to be so loved, I can’t wait” she cooed out “what you guessing? My mother said boy weird enough, she said the way I am carrying so I am so unsure, also Chris and I met this guy in Jamaica called captain and he knew so much, he turned around to me and said girl, I was so freaked out” Joyce gasped “wow, well I think girl. Oh baby I hope it is a girl, daughters are a pleasure. Such beautiful, spirited kids, boys are a pain. I enjoyed my daughter then I did my son but Chris himself, he was clingy to me, forever wanting me to pick him up but I feel like when boys grow up, they grow up to not be yours” Joyce has got a point “he also said we have four kids but one is vague and I questioned and said was one a miscarriage and he said no so that scared me, I don’t know. I hope it’s not anything awful” I sighed out “impressive” Joyce said and I laughed “well” I dragged out, her son has super sperm so it could be a thing actually “would you want that many? You’re a very busy woman” I chuckled “with the help and support from the love of my life yes it can happen, even if god blessed me once I am happy” Joyce cooed out “I am so excited for you both” this baby is going to be so loved and I can’t wait.

Sweet of Joyce, she cooked for us and I wasn’t expecting that at all. She made me sit down and not do anything at all, it’s nice “you know what, this was so nice. Thank you, but leave the dishes, Chris will clean up” I grinned at Chris “what?” He said confused “you heard me but it’s getting late, I don’t want you driving home and it’s too dark for you” Chris chuckled “she is trying to make you both leave, she is bored of you” Chris is such a liar “don’t listen to him please, he is a liar. But anyways, can we take a picture together, just before you depart. I want a in-law’s picture, I’ll get Rich to come and take it” getting up from the seat “oh god my hair is not done?” Waving Joyce off “stop it” making my way to the living room to get Rich so he can take this picture of us “Rich, can you take a picture” walking back on myself “what’s bout your bump?” Chris asked “your jacket” taking his jacket from the back of his chair, I just really don’t care about hiding about the fact I’m with my in-law. Putting Chris’ jacket on and zipping it up “don’t you think it looks better on me?” I smiled at Chris “mhmmm nah, better on me” Chris wrapped his arms around my shoulders “Rich can you notice my bump? Anything at all?” I asked as he aimed the camera up “erm no, the counter covers it” shuffling to Joyce and placing my around her “ok smile” I grinned wide, I probably look a mess but who cares “done” Rich made his way over to us, taking my phone from him “awwww thank you, I love this picture. I don’t look pregnant here at all, ok family” pressing next and adding a caption ‘I have the cutest in-laws’ pressing send on the picture “it’s been honestly so nice to see you both, but honestly. Chris will clean” I am being deadass, he thinks I am joking “awww, how long you both staying for?” Joyce asked “erm, I would say a few days. Spending some quality time together” I laughed to myself because that sounds stupid, we see each other anyways.

Chris is downstairs trying to figure which home he wants to get for his parents, I spoke to Chris last night about them remaining here, they are happy to be here so why change that for them. Even though for Chris I would have liked them to come to Cali but it’s fine, just because they are happy here so he is downstairs looking at different homes, he changed his mind on what he wants to get and I don’t mind because I need sort out his birthday gift or gifts anyways, but I don’t know what I am doing with this shit so I am getting my brother to help me, I have not a clue about this shit so while he is down there I am calling him “nigga, why you take so long to pick up” I scolded him “sorry, man I was just going to have a nap under the sun” he knows damn well I miss Barbados “asshole, so anyways. Have you done your investigation for me? I told you, if I say it to him he will clock on so I don’t want to ask” he better have spoken to him “yeah, I text him and said well lied to him. I said I am moving to Cali to be closer, and I am looking to get a car, well at first we spoke about sports and then I turned it into about cars, then he said oh my car is just an Uber which made me laugh but he spoke on Lamborghini, he said once he makes his money up he will get that for himself, so there. I did it” I have no idea about cars, they cute whatever but I don’t. I have that Porsche that is in a garage that I don’t even use “right so now what? Rorrey please, you got to do this for me” he has no choice he has too “right there is a few models but I am flying over sis so we can both go and look, don’t worry about it I got you” thank god he is coming.

As I come down the door knocked at the same time “I will get it” Rich said as he got up, I need to make some lunch actually, I am hungry. Slowly walking down the last step as Rich walked by me “you don’t look happy” I said, “I was having a nap” I gasped “so in that nap you were saving me from what?” Rich chuckled as he opened the door “oh wow, hi” letting out an oh, it’s TJ “I come in peace, honestly big man” Chris jogged by me “is that you TJ?” Rich moved to the side, TJ stood awkwardly with a car seat in hand but then he placed it on the floor as Chris jumped on him, giving him the biggest hug “oh man, it’s the married man” I smiled seeing them both hugging, seeing Chris happy with his friend “oh shit, oh my god. Is this Camron? Holy shit, who this white boy” Chris crouched down to the car seat “hi Rihanna” TJ waved at me “hey, come in. Chris bring the baby, come in. I am going to make lunch, you want some?” I asked “no thank you, I just ate. I really wanted Chris to meet my son, like I am so excited about this” watching Chris as he bought the car seat over to me “look at him, he fat and white” I cooed out looking into the car seat seeing this chubby little thing with the lightest hair “wow TJ, he is you!” I spat “he is so cute” now I am jealous, I Want my bbay with me now, Camron is so cute.

Walking into the living room and sitting next to Chris “ugh, I cannot wait for our baby to be here. Look at you being all daddy, TJ your son is beautiful. He is really you’re twin, god bless him” TJ laughed “thank you, I just wanted Chris to meet him, and it happened. I just wanted this moment, when he’s older I can start taking him to Cali, he will have someone to play with when little Breezy comes along but thank you” poking my lips out “come here, you are so precious” picking Camron off of Chris, slowly placing him in my arms “you really are a charmer staring at me with those big brown eyes” I should have known, like he’s a baby and they can sniff milk “aye, wait. No, those nipples are mine” I snorted laughing moving him away from my breast, this baby is ready for milk “oh shit, I just fed him, he probably senses it” lifting him up and sat him up on my lap with my hand behind his head “take a picture for me, do you mind?” I asked TJ “I don’t, I mean after the breast thing. You can” Chris aimed the camera, placing my hand just under his chin “mind the stomach” I added “Camron, hey nephew! Yeah, you going to smile at me, awww look at that” Chris turned my phone to me “cute, post it please and put. Just had a baby the world thinks I am pregnant with, I want to annoy the rumours floating around. This will throw them off” also just that alone will upset Seiko, she will be so angry about me posting her son.

#chrianna fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #chriannaff #chrianna ff #chrianna

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queen18xo · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Falling Again

Fic for @geraskierminibang for @patchwork-doublet ‘s art :)

A man with short, messy chestnut hair sits on a stool. Various patterned tapestries hang from the walls behind him. On his lap sits a light wood acoustic guitar. He flashes a charming smile at the camera, his baby blue eyes shining beneath the studio lights. The camera slowly zooms in, focusing on soft, agile fingers as they pluck expertly at the acoustic guitar strings, his fingers pluck out a gentle rhythm, his sweet, melodic voice ringing out above the soft strumming of the guitar.

"I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands."

The man on the stool looked to be in his early twenties; he had a young blemish-free face, his face was well structured, his eyes sparkling with a youthful twinkle. His fingers were graceful and moved across the strings with well-practised ease. His chestnut hair complemented his pale complexion; his cheeks tinted pink as he softly sang. As the lyrics spilled from his mouth, his pink lips pulled up into an easy smile.

He wore a threadbare black t-shirt, the worn hemline drooping to expose his prominent collar bones, the shirt hanging loosely from his slim frame.

"Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left."

His strumming quickened, the familiar chorus approaching, his voice rising a few octaves as he sang, passion coating every word pushed past his lips.

"What am I now? What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling."

The final note rings out loudly; the man throws a disarming smile in the direction of the camera, one of his dainty hands running through his hair, pushing his fringe from where it's fallen into his eyes.

"Thank you for listening everyone; I'm Jaskier." Jaskier's eyes twinkled, his voice bubbles easily from his mouth, his arms flew around at his sides, their movements lightening fast, keeping up with the speed of the words falling from his lips. "So the song was one of my current favourites, Falling by Geralt Rivia" a shy blush coloured his cheeks as he spoke poetically about his favourite singer. "Yeah so for anyone that hasn't checked him out I suggest you do, it was a pleasure to entertain you, until next time." Jaskier threw a flirtatious wink at the camera, a slight blush still colouring his usually pale cheeks.

The video ended, the screen turning black before several squares advertising other videos. Geralt stared at the screen slack-jawed, his mind reeling as he sat awed by the impressively diverse vocal range the singer showcased. Jaskier had a soft, sweet voice; however, beneath his voice's soothing sultry sound was a raspy quality that added a unique element to his voice. He effortlessly captivated people, his warm smile and bubbly personality were infectious.

Geralt wasn't usually one to pay attention to others covering his songs; in fact, he actively tried to avoid listening to covers. A piece took months, sometimes even years to perfect, and he had no desire to hear others butchering his hard work. However, listening to Jaskier's cover of one of the least recognised songs he'd released became unavoidable when Cirilla, his 13-year-old daughter, demanded several times in the space of a week that he listened to the cover.

It was rare to find genuine talent; everything was auto-tuned and over-commercialised, Geralt enjoyed the simplicity of watching a man and his guitar. The sight reminded him of when he had first delved into his passion for music. There was no doubt Jaskier loved what he was doing despite the struggle of being an unknown artist.

"He's good, right?" A confident voice chirped from behind him; he felt the pressure of his daughter's entire body weight as she pushed down on his broad shoulders as she was bouncing excitedly behind him.

"Hmmm, not bad." Geralt shrugged, chuckling at the affronted sound she released her mouth pulled down into a scowl. Geralt smirked, twisting his arm around to pinch the pink apples of her cheeks before removing himself from his desk chair.

"Mum likes him; Mum says he's just your type." Geralt stops in his tracks turning to face his daughter, his eyebrows raised as he stares, shocked by her statement.

He crouches down to Ciri's level, one knee on the floor as he watches her carefully "Cirilla, you and your mother need to stop trying to meddle in my love life okay, I am perfectly happy." His large hand cups her chubby cheek softly, he gives her a warm smile, settling the young girl with a fond gleam in his eyes.

~~~~~

Once Cirilla had been settled for the night Geralt sat at the kitchen counter, the stove’s overhead light bathing the spacious, tiled room in a soft glow. "Yennefer." Geralt growled in greeting, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Geralt, polite as always." The woman snarked, her voice ringing loudly in his ear as she greets him.

"Will you stop meddling in my damn love life." Geralt whisper shouted, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke.

"What love life exactly Geralt?"

Geralt growled lowly in warning his frustration with the woman steadily rising the longer she spoke, her voice, unlike Jaskier's, grating on his frayed nerves. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger drawing in a deep calming breath. "Just let it go Yennefer," Geralt breaths out suddenly tired, his shoulders sagging as he sits with the phone pressed to his ear.

~~~~~~~

Several days later, Ciri came bounding through the front door, launching herself into her father's lap as he sat reclined on the sofa watching tv. "Dad, guess what?" She asked excitedly, the teen vibrating with excitement as she spoke. He didn't bother with a response just raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Jaskier, the guy that covered your song, he's my new music teacher!" She squealed her face flushed with exertion from the excited screeching and bouncing she was doing.

Geralt had watched several more of the man's covers since seeing the cover of his song, Jaskier was relatively successful on youtube, he had gained a large following in a short amount of time. "What happened to Mr. Marx?" Geralt asked. He hadn't been aware Ciri's usual music teacher had left the school.

"Dad" Ciri groaned, rolling her eyes exasperatedly, Geralt chuckled slightly over the girl's dramatics. "Who cares what happened to Mr. Marx! Jaskier is my new teacher, dad this is great." She squealed in his ear the shrill sound causing him to flinch away from the irritating sound.

"Cirilla, calm down and stop screeching in my ear like a damn banshee." Geralt ordered rubbing a hand over his suddenly tired face. Geralt found it peculiar to think that the beautiful stranger must not live far from their apartment, his heart began beating heavily in his chest over the thought of possibly running into the man one day.

Jaskier uploaded a new video weekly, Geralt had just finished watching the most recent video. The man had covered another one of his songs; however, it was a slightly more upbeat, more popular song but still not one of his mainstream hits. Geralt found himself idly wondering if he'd made the connection between Cirilla and him yet. Geralt could see boxes and various small homely items scattered around the floor in the background of the usually empty room, indicating he had recently moved into their area. Probably for the job.

"You're still picking me up tomorrow right dad?" Ciri called from her room, across the house, the teen knew how much it aggravated him yet that never seemed to deter her.

"Yes Cirilla, go to sleep." He shouted back, his deep voice loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. Since his divorce from Yennefer it was only the two of them left in the apartment, the large space often feeling empty, two people not enough to fill it.

~~~~~~

Geralt arrived at the school late; he rushed from the car over to the school's courtyard, where his thought process was promptly derailed. Standing beside Ciri, was Jaskier, her new music teacher and the man Geralt had developed a hopeless crush on.

He approached the two who barely noticed his arrival, both lost in conversation. Jaskier had a massive grin on his face, his fringe hanging messily across his forehead, his clothes rumpled from a long day of work.

"Dad!" Ciri called loudly as if he wasn't standing directly beside her. She smirked up at him, mischievously a trait she had unfortunately gained from Yennefer. The witch still making his life difficult years after their separation.

"Cirilla." Geralt scolded the girl quietly for her obnoxious behaviour, Ciri looked up at him apologetically, her amber eyes glowing as she looked up at him.

"Hi I'm - Oh my god." Jaskier gasped out, his dainty hand flying to cover his mouth as his jaw dropped in shock. His bright blue eyes stared up at Geralt beneath thick black lashes.

"I'm Geralt, Ciri's dad." Geralt offered out his hand for the teacher to shake, flashing the man a small reassuring smile. Jaskier reached out, his small shaky hand grasping Geralt's in a gentle grip.

"I love you." Jaskier blurted out his cheeks colouring," Oh my god I can't believe I just said that." Jaskier stated mortified, his blue eyes watery as his eyes bore into Geralt’s. "This is so embarrassing," the man laughed hysterically.

Geralt motioned for Ciri to make her way to the car alone, waiting until the teen is out of earshot before calming the hysterical man down. "Hey, hey, it's alright." Geralt hesitantly pulled the man in his arms, leaving Jaskier enough time to decline the physical contact, not wanting to cross a line.

Jaskier’s laboured breathing finally began to calm, the man pulling his head from where it leant against Geralt's firm chest. He stays tucked beneath the older man's muscular arms; his head pulled back far enough to meet Geralt's eyes. "I am so sorry; this is so unprofessional." Jaskier groaned, burying his head back into Geralt's chest to hide his embarrassment.

Geralt chuckles, finding the man in his arms delightfully adorable, he was used to fans being overwhelmed by him, but none were quite like Jaskier. "How about you let me take you out?" Geralt asks timidly, Jaskier's small frame held against his chest.

"God yes," Jaskier breathes out his heart thumping heavily in his chest as he curls further into Geralt’s secure hold, his anxiety petering off the longer Geralt held him safely in his strong arms.

#geraksier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt z rivii #Jaskier #fluff #meet cute

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bytheangell · 4 years ago

Text

Believe in Something Beautiful

(Read on AO3) (I tried to post this on the ask itself but Tumblr had a crisis and it got all messed up so I had to delete it and make a separate post OOPS) -------------

The opportunity Isabelle gets to study with the Iron Sisters is a once and a lifetime offer, and that’s on top of the fact that it’s something she’s personally dreamt of since she was a little girl. So of course Jace doesn’t so much as blink before agreeing to take over as temporary Head of the Institute while she’s away.

“Are you sure?” she asks for the millionth time before leaving as if this will be the time he suddenly decides to change his mind. “I know you hate the deskwork side of things, and-”

“Iz, it’s fine. It’ll just be a few months, I can handle it. I promise not to let the place burn down while you’re gone.”

The reservations she has are true, of course, but he isn’t going to admit that he’s secretly loathing not only being mostly resigned to an office for the duration of her trip but feeling much more alone without Alec or her around. Instead, he gives her a bright smile and shoos her out the door before she can stall any longer.

The first few days are definitely an adjustment but Jace actually kind of likes the new role once he gets into it. The paperwork sucks, sure, but he makes good use of the still impressively stocked drink cart Alec brought in when he was Head of the Institute, as well as the upgraded plush sofa Isabelle insisted on. All in all being stuck in this particular office isn’t too bad… at least not for the first few weeks.

After that Jace starts to go a little stir-crazy. He tries to keep up with his training, whether it’s with the other Shadowhunters or Simon or just on his own in the training room, but every time he does he’s pulled away for another debriefing or meeting, which leads to more reports until the day is over and it’s already time to go home.

Going ‘home’ nowadays, more often than not, has meant going back to Simon’s apartment. Sometimes Jace stays the night at the Institute but usually only when it’s absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he makes his way to Simon’s place for some quality time with his boyfriend. No matter how tired he is at the end of the day he’s rejuvenated by the sight of Simon, always eager to see him and listen to him complain about whatever nonsense he had to deal with that day. It’s a relationship Jace never saw coming, one he never would’ve imagined for himself in a million years, but’s it’s good. If he wasn’t afraid of jinxing it he might go so far as to say it’s perfect.

Things stay that way until a couple of months into Izzy’s absence. Jace can’t place it at first, just a lingering uncertainty which isn’t something he’s used to feeling. It doesn’t click until he’s training with some of the guys at the Institute and someone pokes a sparring staff at his stomach, making a joke about how he’s getting soft - literally - since taking over for Izzy. It’s an off-handed comment, nothing worse than Jace has said about any of them at one time or another and just meant to poke fun, but it hits something much deeper and Jace finds he can’t let the words slide off him like he normally does. He laughs with the others, of course, and thoroughly kicks their asses during the part of the session he manages to participate in before he’s pulled away to go over something strange on the surveillance cameras, but the words stick with him.

Soft. Jace Wayland has been called a number of things in his life, but soft has never been one of them before now.

When he’s changing in his room to go meet up with Simon, Jace spends a long time looking at himself in the mirror. He isn’t overweight, not given his body’s starting status of ‘abs-sculpted-like-a-statue’s’, but that only makes the lack of definition that much more obvious to him now. Simon hasn’t said anything but surely he’s noticed too, how could he not? Telling himself it isn’t a big deal Jace slips on a fresh shirt and a decent pair of dark jeans to meet Simon after work.

After dinner, sitting on the sofa with Simon’s hands sliding under his t-shirt and up his sides while they make out, Jace is acutely aware of the fact that there’s more to slide over now. When Simon pulls Jace closer by the waist he tenses at the touch as if aware for the first time of the way Simon’s fingers dip into the flesh there.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, stopping when Jace freezes up.

“I-” Jace starts, uncertain. “I don’t feel so great, actually. Might be something I ate. Mind if we... just don’t, tonight?” Jace feels immediately guilty for the half-truth. He doesn’t feel well all of a sudden but he knows exactly why, and it isn’t bad seafood.

“Of course,” Simon says easily, shifting so Jace can reposition himself next to Simon on the sofa. “Do you need anything? I could run to the store and get some medicine.”

Simon’s immediate concern only doubles Jace’s guilt. “No, I’ll be alright,” Jace insists, wondering if that’s a lie too as Simon turns on the TV until they both fall asleep on the sofa.

---

Jace leaves Simon’s place early enough the next morning to get in an hour-long run before he needs to be at the Institute. He knows it isn’t going to do much - it’s taken months of letting himself go to get this bad, he isn’t going to fix it with a day of jogging, but it feels better than doing nothing. For a few days he makes excuses to not go back to Simon’s place: waiting for a late patrol to come back, covering a security shift, even as lame of an excuse as ‘i’m too tired’ when there really is no other reason he can give.

He doesn’t lie… he just doesn’t add that he’s the one going out of his way to make sure he has things keeping him ‘stuck’ at the Institute at night, though he knows this can’t last forever.

So Jace starts to get clever. Whenever things start to get heated on the nights he does go back to Simon’s, Jace immediately takes control, insisting that he’s going to take care of Simon. It’s actually one of Jace’s favorite things, to watch the way Simon falls apart beneath Jace’s touches, the way he’s so blissed out by the end of a very thorough blowjob that he doesn’t argue too much when Jace insists he doesn’t want anything himself. The sex - the few times Jace lets things get that far - is rushed and always with the lights off, with Jace keeping as much clothing on as possible and almost always finding an excuse to not be able to stay afterward to cuddle.

He hopes, a bit naively, that as long as they’re still having sex that Simon won’t notice anything is wrong. Jace can’t remember the last time he let Simon see him naked, something that used to be very common for them, and he knows the lack of that sort of intimacy won’t go unnoticed forever. With all his other tactics Jace buys himself an extra week or two until Simon’s asking him if something’s wrong again.

“You just seem… distant lately,” Simon continues, concern written all over his face. Jace can’t stand the fact that he caused this gap between them but he can’t bring himself to admit what’s bothering him, either. He’s ruining everything and for what? Simon clearly doesn’t care.

Still, he can’t silence the voice in the back of his head reminding him that this isn’t who Simon signed up for. Jace is all quick wit and sarcasm, he’s confidence and an ego larger than all of Brooklyn. That’s who Simon fell for and expects from him, so that’s who Jace needs to be. He needs to figure out how to feel like himself again, and fast.

“Just a lot on my mind, work stuff. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Jace says, leaning in to give Simon a quick kiss.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About work, or whatever else is going on?” Simon offers.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Jace agrees quickly.

He then proceeds to bury every worry he has deep down into the back of his mind and does his best not to think about it, let alone talk about it, again.

---

Jace continues to make excuses, manipulate any intimate encounters for minimum contact, or just flat-out avoiding Simon entirely. Avoiding is easier than lying and Jace gets better at it as the days pass. Or maybe he just gets more used to it… he isn’t sure he likes the implication of either option.

At first, Simon tries to fight him on it - rearranging his schedule so he can visit Jace at the Institute, trying to insist Jace come over no matter how late it is, doing his best to puppy-dog-eye Jace into staying in bed for more than 5 seconds - but Jace manages to pull himself away every time.

After a while, Simon stops trying so hard. Then Simon stops trying entirely. After not hearing from Simon for two days in a row Jace ends up calling him instead of the other way around.

“Hey, I hadn’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry,” Jace says, relieved when Simon picks up.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Simon says, his tone casual. Jace can practically hear the shrug behind the words.

“What do you mean?” Jace asks, though he thinks he has a good idea.

“I mean, every time I’ve tried to make plans you blow them off anyway, so I figured I’d stop trying and you could just call me if you ever felt like leaving the Institute again,” Simon replies, and this time there’s a bit of an edge to his tone.

Jace deserves that, but he doesn’t expect it. Not from Simon.

Fuck, what is he doing? He could feel the gap between them forming, he knew he was the cause, and he still let things get so far that Simon has all but given up on him from the sound of it.

“I’m Sorry, Si.” That much isn’t a lie. Jace is sorry.

“Don’t be sorry,” Simon tells him, sounding sad and defeated, and about as tired as Jace keeps claiming to be. “If you’re bored with me just tell me, and we can stop pretending.”

There’s silence over the phone line while Jace processes those words. Is that really what Simon thinks? Is that what Jace let Simon think all this time?

“I’m not,” Jace insists. “It isn’t you, Simon, I swear.”

There’s a long pause, and with obvious reluctance Simon slowly asks, “Is there someone else?”

Jace can hear the fear in his voice, the dread of what answer may come from asking, and his heart breaks knowing it’s all his fault that Simon has these doubts about them.

“No,” Jace says, just as quickly as before. He’s messed things up worse than he realized and wonders if there’s going to be anything to salvage once he’s finally honest with Simon. He has to be honest now - there’s no other option. “We should talk, but not on the phone. Are you-” Jace starts to ask if Simon is free but remembers that he volunteered to take Underhill’s security shift that night so he could go on a date with Lorenzo. Of course, he took it to avoid Simon not knowing everything was going to go so wrong, so quickly. Overly aware of how bad this is going to look now of all times, Jace sighs. “I have to stay late tonight,” Jace winces as he admits. “But tomorrow? First thing in the morning. I’ll come straight over after the shift and we’ll talk.”

“Sure,” Simon agrees easily enough, except Jace knows him well enough to the doubt there, the way he doesn’t get his hopes up that Jace will follow through this time.

“I promise. As soon as the replacement shows up I’m gone. You’re my priority.” He’s already making a note to cancel a mid-day meeting he planned on attending after a few hours of rest, and one later in the afternoon just in case.

Just in case what? In case it takes all day to convince Simon to forgive him? In case Simon doesn’t forgive him and Jace is left to pick up the pieces of his failed relationship? Jace shakes the thought from his head, hoping he hasn’t messed things up that irreparably.

“I love you, Simon,” Jace tells him, holding his breath for the seconds that stretch on after his words before Simon sighs.

“I love you too, Jace.”

The line goes dead and Jace stares at the phone in his hand for several long minutes before pocketing it. The rest of the night is spent counting the seconds until the morning shift will take over while also dreading that moment in equal measure. What is he going to say? He has plenty of time to think about it left alone for most of the night, but he hates everything he comes up with. It doesn’t feel like enough, or it feels like too much, or it feels like he’s making excuses.

A few hours later, tired and weary, he’s out of time to think. The fresh air during his walk to Simon’s works well to clear his head and he reminds himself of one thing: he loves Simon, and he needs to figure out what he can do to fix what he broke. If he starts there then the rest will hopefully fall into place. It isn’t like he has many other options.

Jace knocks on the door and waits with bated breath.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he opens it, and Jace tries not to feel as hurt as he does by the surprised words. He deserves that. He deserves so much worse than that.

“I am,” Jace says. I always will be, if you let me. Please, let me stay, he wants to beg, but doesn’t. Simon steps aside and Jace goes in, making an immediate beeline for the sofa. He’s too anxious to sit, however, and stands back up almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Jace starts. It’s the simplest place.

“For…?” Simon prompts.

“For making you think you did something wrong. For avoiding you, instead of telling you what was bothering me.” Jace is certain there’s more than that he should apologize for but it seems like a good starting point. “It just felt so ridiculous, and I figured I’d just get over it… but I didn’t, and it was easier to avoid than admit until we talked last night and I realized how bad I let everything get and I- I don’t want to lose you, Simon.”

Simon, who was doing a very good job standing with his arms crossed looking unimpressed, softens considerably at that. “If it’s bothering you that much it isn’t ridiculous. And I kept telling you that you can talk to me, I wish that you had.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jace admits. “But I am now,” he adds hopefully. It might be too little too late but he has to try.

“So?” Simon prompts again, not letting up. “Do I get to know why my boyfriend’s been avoiding me, or are you just going to say sorry and try to pretend it never happened?”

“I was embarrassed because of the weight I put on.” Jace has to force the words out, already hating himself the moment he hears them leave his lips.

Jace expects Simon to laugh but instead Simon looks him up-and-down in consideration. “I wondered… but you have to know I don’t care about that, right?”

“You might not, but I do.” Jace frowns. “I didn’t realize just how much until I started going out of my way to avoid you even seeing me, let alone touching me.”

“That’s when you started insisting on all those ridiculous quickies,” Simon pieces together, shaking his head. “I should’ve realized.”

“No, I should’ve said something. I thought if I kept it up once and a while it’d be enough to hold things over until I got… comfortable again.”

Simon snorts at that, then looks immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I know this is serious, and the sex is great and all, but you do know I’m dating you for more than just that, right?”

Jace manages a small laugh at that. “I figured it was probably a 75/25 split,” he jokes back. This is a good sign, right? If Simons’ laughing, even for a second, maybe he doesn’t totally hate him.

“My point,” Simon reels the conversation back in. “Is that you should’ve said you were uncomfortable. We could’ve stopped things for a while, or forever if that’s what you want. I’m dating you because I like you, not because of your body. Though, I mean, it is an amazing body.”

“It was stupid,” Jace argues. “I overreacted.”

“Did you?” Simon says, raising an eyebrow. “You still feel that way, don’t you? Even now?”

Jace almost opens his mouth to say that he doesn’t, that everything is fine and he just wants to go back to the way things were before, but he knows it’d be a lie. And he just got done apologizing for not being honest in the first place. It’s a hit to his pride but he knows he needs to tell Simon the truth even if he isn’t happy about it.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jace admits, not meeting Simon’s gaze.

“If it bothers you then it isn’t stupid. I’m mad you didn’t tell me, but I’m not mad you’re uncomfortable. Honestly? I love your body like this. Every last inch of it, whether those inches were there before or not. Hell, it’s nice to have the playing field evened out a bit since I’ll never have your Adonis-abs,” Simon says, and though he eyes Jace’s body he doesn’t make a move to reach out for him.

“Yeah, well, that makes one of us,” Jace mutters, crossing his arms in front of him self-consciously. He hates the space between them, he wants to reach out and pull Simon close and never let him go again, certainly not for as long as he has recently, but he still can’t bring himself to do it.

Simon seems to sense that, too. “But it doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it if you aren’t. I’ll tell you what - let’s just put a hard stop on anything physical until you’re comfortable with it again. But when you are - and I mean the second you give me the okay - I get to show you exactly how beautiful I think you are. Whether you look like you did six months ago, or like you do now, or if you put on 100 more pounds, I’m always going to think you’re gorgeous, and I’m going to remind you every day so you never forget it again, starting now. Jace Wayland, you are the single most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Jace mentally curses the traitorous flush that he feels in his cheeks at the declaration, but smiles. “Thanks, Simon,” he says.

It’s tempting to say that he’s fine, to pull Simon into a kiss he knows after this long won’t stay chaste for long, but he doesn’t want to end up right back where he started and he definitely doesn’t want to risk pushing Simon away again.

“Do you think we could just take a nap? I’m exhausted, and I miss falling asleep with you.” Jace knows after everything he has no right to ask, but any concerns are gone the moment Simon nods eagerly and smiles.

Simon holds true to what he said earlier, stripping down to his boxers before getting into bed, waiting to see where Jace decides to position himself and what he wants to do. Simon doesn’t push things, and when Jace settles in behind him to wrap his arm around Simon - a deliberate choice, they both know now - Simon only shifts slightly to fit in his hold easier, not saying a word.

Feeling more relaxed than he has in weeks, Jace falls asleep almost immediately.

---

When Jace wakes up it’s to Simon running his fingers gently through a loose strand of hair that fell over his face while he slept. At some point Simon must’ve woken up and turned to face Jace, content to simply wait for him to wake up rather than leave.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” Simon says, and Jace shakes his head.

“You’re really sticking to that, aren’t you?” Jace says, a little surprised.

“Of course I am. I meant it. Until you believe it yourself I’ll just have to believe it enough for the both of us.” Simon gives a little shrug with the one shoulder he can move, and Jace is filled with such a sudden and overwhelming sense of certainty that Simon really does mean it, that he isn’t just saying it to make Jace feel better, that he doesn’t know what to do with the emotion that comes with the realization.

“I wish I could see what you see,” Jace mumbles out the passing thought, still so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize he said it out loud until Simon replies.

“Maybe I can convince you,” Simon offers.

Jace considers the offer for the second time that day. “And how, exactly, would you do that?”

Simon shifts backward so he can sit back on his heels, leaning over Jace as he lays on the bed. “If you’re uncomfortable you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

Jace nods, and Simon pauses an extra second but seems satisfied with his answer. Jace wants to see what he can manage because he misses this. He misses them, and even just spending this morning back with Simon with everything out in the open is doing wonders to ease some of the discomfort he felt before.

“Well,” Simon starts, pushing the comforter off of them entirely to move so that he’s straddling Jace, kneeling on either side of his thighs. “I’d start by saying I’ve noticed you growing your hair out, and I love the way it lifts when the wind catches it just right,” Simon brings a hand up to comb through the light, loose pieces of Jace’s hair that flop into his face when they aren’t styled back, like right now.

“Then I’d tell you how beautiful your cheeks are when they get that little tinge of blush you can’t hide when you’re embarrassed,” Simon continues, leaning over to place a kiss on each of Jace’s cheekbones. Jace can feel that very same blush form there, warm under the cool touch of Simon’s lips, and Simon smiles down at him as he pulls back again. “There it is. Beautiful.”

Simon moves his gaze to Jace’s lips, placing a kiss there, this one lingering long enough that Jace tries to lean up into it just as Simon pulls away again, but not before he catches Jace’s bottom lip in his teeth for just a second before moving down his jawline and onto his neck. Jace tilts his head back to give Simon more access, shuddering at the barely-there scrape of fangs against his throat as Simon speaks in between each kiss. “And how beautiful you are when you open up for me like this,” Simon says, peppering kisses in between. Jace barely manages to hold back a moan as Simon sucks a mark onto the skin just above his collarbone.

Simon sits back again, resting on Jace’s thighs while his hands trail down Jace’s arms.

“I’d tell you how I can’t see your arms without remembering every time you used them to pin me against a wall or lift me up onto a table with such irresistible strength,” Simon continues, his hands moving from Jace’s arms to grab the bottom of Jace’s t-shirt and pull it off over his head, giving him access to Jace’s chest. Simon rocks his hips ever so slightly with the action and Jace’s breath catches, instinctively arching his body up off the bed to chase the brief friction.

“I’d tell you that ever since you started putting on weight-” Simon’s words slow deliberately, his eyes full of lust and wanting as they trail down Jace’s body, followed by that gentle caress of his fingertips again. “-I’ve dreamt about the way it’d feel when I held on to it while I fucked you, imagined the beautiful marks I’d leave there, the soft skin bruised over and scratched-”

“Fuck, Si,” Jace barely manages to breathe out, eyes closed as he pictures it and… yeah, okay, maybe he can see what Simon sees. Simon’s words make him want it too, his thoughts lost in the knowledge that it’ll be so much better than he can even imagine, if only because it’s them, and suddenly Jace is entirely incapable of finding anything unappealing in the idea of giving himself over entirely to Simon. Everything he built up in his head, all the reservations and self-consciousness, fade to nothing but distant background noise while he’s here in Simon’s arms.

Simon, goddamn him, hovers over him, smirking.

For the first time in weeks Jace feels desire without reservation wash over him, but it isn’t desire in spite of the idea of Simon touching him - it’s because of the idea of Simon’s hands on him, revering his body just as it is now, that has every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. Jace had been so trapped in his own head and his inability to feel nothing but disgust over the changes in his body that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Simon might actually like them, or at least not hate them the way Jace did.

“Show me,” Jace says suddenly, and Simon wastes no time bringing his hands from Jace’s shoulders down his chest, teasing gentle touches along his sides.

“So beautiful,” Simon repeats, peppering kisses down his stomach, his hip bones, stopping right at the line of Jace’s boxers to look back up at him in question one last time. Jace nods, not trusting his words just then, and a minute later both his and Simon’s underwear are discarded on the floor next to the bed.

“You’re perfect, Jace,” Simon tells him, and Jace can feel the heat rise not just in his cheeks but everywhere, his entire body alight with the effect Simon’s words have on him. “And all mine. I’m so lucky to have you like this all. to. my. self.” Simon emphasizes each word with a small bite, two on the inside of each thigh.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Jace says, letting out a small gasp as Simon begins to stretch him. All thoughts, positive or negative, leave him entirely as Jace loses himself to the passion of the moment, to the feeling of being wanted, of being longed for.

True to his word, Simon never lets Jace forget exactly why he’s here and why they’re doing this. Jace is surprised when, after all their time apart recently and all the buildup, Simon takes things slowly. He never stops telling Jace how beautiful he is as he’s keeping his promise of marking every inch of skin he can, always returning to slide his hands over Jace’s stomach and sides and thighs, gripping them tight, giving them the most attention.

Jace embraces every new sensation - the way it feels to have Simon’s fingers press into areas of him that were nothing but unforgiving bone and muscle before, appreciating the way their bodies seem to blend and connect in ways they didn’t before.

Jace is aware of every time Simon glances up at his face just to double-check he’s still alright, still with him. Jace is aware that every touch, even the rough ones, are a reassurance and a comfort.

Jace is aware that this is Simon taking care of him, mind, body, and soul, from start to finish. And he knows that care doesn’t end now that they’re lying next to each other again to catch their breaths.

“That… was…” Simon starts, but Jace cuts him off.

“Beautiful?” Jace suggests, with the slightest teasing tone to his words. “I know.”

“Do you?” Simon asks, not teasing at all, and Jace’s taunting smirk fades to something softer.

Jace spent his entire life being who he thought others expected him to be, living up to the expectations set by those around him. There was always a push to do better, to be better, that he’s never felt satisfied with where he is at any given time. There’s always something to change, something to improve. But here, now, with Simon, he feels like for the first time he’s able to be okay with who he is and the way things are right now. That he’s fine, just like this.

“Yeah,” he says, probably about as surprised as Simon to find that he isn’t just saying it to deflect now - he actually means it this time. “Yeah, I do.”

#jimon #jace herondale #simon lewis #shadowhunters #simonisraphaelsbaby #thank you so much for sending me a prompt it's been aaaaages since I got one #and this was really fun to write!#also sorry i'm terrible and smut and only managed like a step above fading to black fjdslkfjlskfjlksad;#but i hope you like it!!#long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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cinemavariety · 4 years ago

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The Director’s Series: Paul Thomas Anderson

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about. Today’s director in spotlight is Paul Thomas Anderson

#8 - Hard Eight (1998) Runtime: 1 hr 42 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

John has lost all his money. He sits outside a diner in the desert when Sydney happens along, buys him coffee, then takes him to Reno and shows him how to get a free room without losing much money. Under Sydney's fatherly tutelage, John becomes a successful small-time professional gambler, and all is well, until he falls for Clementine, a cocktail waitress and sometimes hooker.

Verdict: One of the most impressive feature film debuts ever blessed to American cinema. Paul Thomas Anderson was only 25 years old when he broke into the scene and directed this (almost three years younger than me now, how depressing). While it is consistently thrilling and entertaining, Hard Eight oftentimes wears its influences on its sleeve too much. You can see how much inspiration Paul got from Tarantino with this film and it’s one of the 90s best independent movies. The star studded cast doesn’t hurt either.

#7 - Phantom Thread (2017) Runtime: 2 hr 10 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Renowned British dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock comes across Alma, a young, strong-willed woman, who soon becomes a fixture in his life as his muse and lover. Verdict: It’s safe to say that Phantom Thread is PTA’s most lavish and decadent film. It feels like a piece of ancient Hollywood golden-era cinema brought back to life. Johnny Greenwood’s orchestral score is the best sound work he’s ever done, it sweeps you off your feet when it goes along with Anderson’s signature arresting imagery. I’m in the minority who places this near the bottom of Anderson’s filmography, simply because Daniel Day Lewis’s character is so insufferable that it was hard for me to empathize in many ways. It still manages to be one of the most beautiful pieces of modern cinema.

#6 - Inherent Vice (2014) Runtime: 2 hr 28 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In Los Angeles at the turn of the 1970s, drug-fueled detective Larry “Doc” Sportello investigates the disappearance of an ex-girlfriend.

Verdict: Inherent Vice is Paul Thomas Anderson’s most underrated gem. I’ll admit, when I first saw this film, I didn’t really dig it that much and immediately cast it aside as his weakest effort. However, after some maturity, a few more viewings, and also not 100% adoring Phantom Thread, I have developed an immense appreciation for this nonsensical Thomas Pynchon adaptation. Pynchon as a writer is known as being basically unadaptable, but PTA revels in the absurdity of the film’s labyrinth of a plot. It also brings PTA back to his former glory days of ensemble casts and stoner drug fueled mayhem.

#5 - Punch-Drunk Love (2002) Runtime: 1 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A psychologically troubled novelty supplier is nudged towards a romance with an English woman, all the while being extorted by a phone-sex line run by a crooked mattress salesman, and purchasing stunning amounts of pudding.

Verdict: Punch-Drunk Love plays out like a symphony of color, texture, and absolutely off-putting social interactions. I understand that Adam Sandler had his comeback last year with Uncut Gems, but this film is actually without a doubt the best performance he’s ever pulled off. And I credit that largely in part to the brilliance of Paul who was working behind him. It’s what I would say one of the most unconventional romantic comedies of all time. It’s nerve wracking, a little sad, super awkward - but also somehow manages to be endearing as well. The percussion heavy score brings manic energy to the whole film. Punch-Drunk Love is also a powerful statement on loneliness, unchecked mental illness, and the power of human connection.

#4 - Boogie Nights (1997) Runtime: 2 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 & 1.66 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Adult film director Jack Horner is always on the lookout for new talent and it's only by chance that he meets Eddie Adams who is working as a busboy in a restaurant. Eddie is young, good looking and plenty of libido to spare. Using the screen name Dirk Diggler, he quickly rises to the top of his industry winning awards year after year. Drugs and ego however come between Dirk and those around him and he soon finds that fame is fleeting.

Verdict: How this film possibly came from a director who is my age now is almost hard to believe. Boogie Nights is one of the quintessential 90s films. It has one of PTA’s best ensemble casts. Anderson’s sophomore effort was a result of the auteur finding his footing and his directorial voice that went on to enthrall audiences over several decades. PTA’s early visual motifs were lengthy and expertly choreographed tracking shots. Please refer to the scenes in the disco as well as the pool party scene pictured above for some of the best camera operation every committed to celluloid. Boogie Nights could possibly be hailed as PTA’s most consistently entertaining and audience friendly works. It’s a great story of the rise and fall of stardom.

#3 - There Will Be Blood (2007) Runtime: 2 hr 38 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A story of family, religion, hatred, oil and madness, focusing on a turn-of-the-century prospector in the early days of the business.

Verdict: Most critics and audiences would agree that There Will Be Blood is the director’s most impressive masterpiece (but who’s counting?). On a storytelling and technical level, I do have to agree that this is probably Paul Thomas Anderson’s best achievement, even if it isn’t exactly my personal favorite. This is the film where PTA really matured with his directorial vision. He abandoned a lot of his earlier flashy work with large casts and a constantly moving camera for something more grounded and more of a character study. There Will be Blood is the story of America in many ways. It’s the story of Capitalism. And how this system leads to so much bloodshed, greed, and hatred as man and man compete to have the most and be the best. This movie will surely stand the test of time and is a shining example of how groundbreaking modern American cinema can be.

#2 - Magnolia (1999) Runtime: 3 hr 8 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

An epic mosaic of interrelated characters in search of love, forgiveness, and meaning in the San Fernando Valley.

Verdict: Paul Thomas Anderson’s third film found the director taking everything he had learned on his previous two, and expanding on that knowledge and developing more layers to his characters who have never felt so fully realized. Magnolia is the director’s magnum opus. It is epic in its length - clocking in at a little over three hours, making it his longest film by far. It is ambitious in its storytelling approach. Many films utilize the style of a variety of seemingly unrelated characters who connect to each other, oftentimes in a synchronistic fashion as they go about the trials and tribulations of their lives. However Magnolia is one of the few that did it first, did it the best, and set the bar for all of the subpar imitations that would soon follow. It’s also profoundly beautiful in the statements that PTA was trying to make. Paul, just barely 30 years old at the time when this was released, most definitely had an emotional and intellectual maturity that is rarely seen within a director of that age range. Magnolia is about redemption, loss, forgiveness, love, and trying to keep your head above water as frogs rain down on your head.

#1 - The Master (2012) Runtime: 2 hr 18 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm & 70mm

Freddie, a volatile, heavy-drinking veteran who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, finds some semblance of a family when he stumbles onto the ship of Lancaster Dodd, the charismatic leader of a new “religion” he forms after World War II.

Verdict: I’ve always been drawn to films about cults. Something about social behavior and social roles within a cult organization is a really interesting study on a sociological, psychological and anthropological level. The Master takes the cult formula and turns it on its head in many ways, never once foraying into the territory of exploitation or tropes. It instead takes a wholly original approach to the story. I mean, it is Paul Thomas Anderson that we’re talking about here. Joaquin Phoenix delivers his most unhinged, and certainly his most impressive, performance of his career as a mentally damaged alcoholic war veteran with pretty severe PTSD. The Master is also in many ways the story of the founding father of Scientology - L. Ron Hubbard. However, let’s just say it is a Scientology movie “in disguise” as no real historical names are ever spoke, the word “Scientology” is never uttered once, and even the director himself refuses to admit that’s what it is about (I mean who can blame him? He once had to work with Tom Cruise). It is one of the most fascinating character studies I’ve ever seen. Not to mention, it is PTA’s most beautifully shot film in my opinion and Johnny Greenwood’s musical contributions to the score elevate this film to ultimate masterpiece status. By the end, I felt like I had just undergone a transcendent experience of sorts. I hope one day PTA can make a film that “wows” me ever more than this one does.

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notveryglittery · 5 years ago

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all the way home i’ll be warm

summary: 'tis the season for spending time with your loved ones! for some mischievous college kids and their "unfortunate" dads, that happens in more ways than one. ships: romantic roceit, romantic moxiety. siblings logicality, brotherly thvi. familial morolo, familial remceit. wc: 6.8k / warnings: sympathetic deceit, food mentions, flying mention, two characters locked in a room together. author’s note: participated in @sanderssantas as a pinch hitter and got to write some lovely wishes for @max-is-tired!! it was a lot of fun and not gonna lie, i kinda want to write a moxiety prequel to it now LMAO. anyway, happy belated holidays!!

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-roceit @fandersfic-moxiety

— — — — — — — — — — —

“Did your disaster of a dad sweep the librarian off his feet yet?”

Patton sighed and rested his cheek on the palm of his hand. It made his face sort of squished and extra cute. Virgil wished they were having this conversation directly so that he could be the one squishing Patton’s face with his hands.

“Nope! Vee, I swear, they’re worse than we were.”

“That’s really saying something,” Virgil said.

“Do you want to hear something impressive?”

“Anything you say is impressive.”

Patton giggled. “Oh hush, that doesn’t even make sense.”

Virgil shrugged helplessly. “Nothing in this world does, babe, but you sure help make it easier to deal with.”

Patton was turning properly red now and Virgil made a mental note to thank Picani again for the suggestions when he’d expressed wanting to buy a new phone. The camera quality on this one made video calling with Patton even better.

“I said hush!” Patton squeaked. “We’re moving on!”

Virgil just smiled back innocently. “Well, what impressive thing do you have to share?”

“Logan hasn’t gone a single day without complaining.”

That was, actually, pretty impressive.

“Logan? Complaining?”

Patton nodded.

“Never has anything to say about you always mentioning that you’re fifteen minutes older-Logan? Has aced literally every final he’s ever taken without a single whine-Logan? Can sit in traffic for hours and not protest once-Logan?”

Patton nodded, fervently. “I know!”

“Explain,” Virgil demanded, feeling very much like he’d just been deposited into an alternate universe.

“Well, you know how he had a secret sweetheart for, like, ever and we only found out on accident, right?”

“Right.”

“He says Dad’s being ridiculous for pining for so long! Apparently, in the time it took for Logan and his lover to get their feelings sorted out, Dad had only just got Dev’s phone number.”

“You’re having fun with alliteration,” Virgil mused, before continuing. “That…” He paused to process. “Pat, they’re not just worse than us, they’re like… the worst in existence.”

“I don’t know how they do it,” Patton moaned, tilting his head back.

“At this rate, I’m going to visit over break just so that I can lock them in a closet together.”

“And that’s the only reason for you to visit, hmm?”

“Of course,” Virgil answered, solemnly, “not like I got my act together and have a handsome boyfriend that I’d like to spend 7 Minutes in Heaven with, or anything.”

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed, nearly screeching.

“Yes?”

“I’m hanging up on you now,” Patton threatened.

“You’re impossible to fluster in person. When else am I supposed to snipe you?”

“I’m confiscating the love gun!”

“It’s cute how you think that’ll stop me,” Virgil said, delighting in the way Patton was still pouting.

“Good night!”

And with that, the call ended.

Virgil laughed, switching to their text thread without missing a beat.

stormcloud: love you lots. hope your dreams are as happy as you make me. sunshine: i love u too, u bully, good night!!!!!!!! >:( sunshine: … sunshine: 💜💙💜💙

—

“Operation Matchmaker is a go!”

“I am making the executive decision to reject that name immediately.”

“Vetoed.”

“On what grounds?”

“I was born first.”

“By fifteen minutes, that hardly counts.”

“It does, too! It counts fifteen whole times.”

“You realize how little sense that makes, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m older!”

“That is not how this works—”

“What are we debating this time, kids?” Roman interrupted, arriving before a full blown argument could start.

“Dad!” The twins chorused, one far more enthusiastic than the other. Then again, one of them had been complaining for the last two weeks of his father’s oblivious pining.

“Patton and I were wondering if you wouldn’t mind driving us today, since you haven’t got anything planned?”

“And just how do you know I’m not busy? I could have many dragons to slay!”

“And princes to swoon over,” Patton mumbled.

Logan elbowed his sibling in the side. “It would be quite efficient to take just the one car out instead of both. However, we all know how much I dislike driving in the snow, and I don’t trust Patton behind the wheel when I know Virgil could call at any moment.”

“Hey!”

“Good point.”

“Hey!”

“And if we leave now, we’ll beat rush hour traffic and be home in time before nightfall.”

“Alright, fine, as long as we’re all good with stopping to get takeout for dinner.”

“That is agreeable.”

“Perfect!”

The trio separated to get their things together. Roman had still been in his pajamas when he happened upon Logan and Patton at the dining table.

They had seemed suspiciously like they were scheming but given it was nearing Christmas, it was safe to assume they were just figuring out gifts. He’d taken care of presents for everyone last month, including Patton’s aforementioned boyfriend. That one had been fun to plan and if everything else went up in flames (as the holidays were sometimes wont to do), he knew that this, at least, would be well worth the work.

Figuring the pair only had a few quick errands to run and that all they’d really expect of him was to keep the car running and warm, Roman went with dressing down for the day. He bundled up in crown patterned sweatpants, a maroon turtleneck, and a black beanie. His hair would not see the light of this day, thank you very much.

“You look comfy!” Patton chirped as they regrouped at the entryway. Their pink pronoun necklace matched the earmuffs and gloves they were wearing; in fact, Patton seemed to have decided on more of a pastel aesthetic than normal today, what with the rest of their outfit in complementary soft shades.

Logan, on the other hand, had gone with his usual and was covered head to toe in navy and black. “Indeed. Do you intend to join us at all or will you be taking self portraits in the car?”

“Ha ha,” Roman deadpanned, shooing his kids outside and locking the door as they left the house.

It wasn’t until they were settled and on the road that Roman thought to actually ask what the plans were.

“What’s on the agenda, then? Gifts? Missing ingredients for cookies? Dropping anything off at Goodwill?” He hadn’t missed the fact that they both had bags, and that they seemed rather full.

“All of the above, actually,” Patton piped up from the backseat. “I wanna donate some of my old plushies and Lo’s got some books he doesn’t need anymore.”

“Patton is in need of vanilla extract and food coloring. I wonder how we could possibly be out.”

“If I don’t make red velvet French toast every morning during holiday break, then what's the point of you being home from college?” Roman asked.

“Quality time spent together, a reprieve from coursework—”

“There is no point!” Patton interrupted. “It’s the best part about being back!”

“Patton, there is no ‘being back’ for you seeing as you do not even live in the dorms. Theoretically, you could have red velvet French toast every morning, regardless of the time of year.”

An offended gasp from his father made sense but to hear it from Patton as well surprised him.

“Blasphemy!” Patton cried.

“The disrespect!” Roman exclaimed.

“That breakfast is tradition, Lo! We’d never have it without you,” Patton promised, clasping Logan’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you,” he responded, voice dripping with sarcasm, “that truly eases my concerns. I was so worried.”

With the streets empty as they were, getting to and from locations took no time at all. Sure enough, Roman waited in the car while Patton and Logan stopped in at the grocery store.

This hadn’t been part of their plan but it was better this way; originally, one would have had to distract him while the other worked. Logan emptied the contents of his backpack, old plastic bags to be recycled, to make room for the pre-ordered bouquet of flowers from the floral department.

“It’s lovely,” Patton gushed to the seasonal employee. “We’re finally gonna get dad to confess his feelings to Dev. It’s been years in the making, they’re both just so clueless. Not that that’s a bad thing!” They hurried to correct while Logan muttered “It really is,” under his breath.

“I think it’s real sweet what you kids are doin’ for your pa,” Valerie said sincerely. “Roman’s been a blessing since I moved out here. I swear, the number of times he’s sighed wistfully during our Disney movie marathons while thinking about that man… I bet the whole town’s rooting for them.”

“It’s a miracle the whole town hasn’t lost their collective mind waiting for one of them to make a move.”

“Logan!” Patton scolded despite looking delighted over their brother being so exasperated that he could hardly be bothered anymore to resist roasting their hopeless father and his crush.

“Well, keep me up to date, won’t you?” Valerie requested, shoving another handful of ribbon into Logan’s bag.

“You bet!”

With the flowers and groceries, not forgotten thanks to Logan, safely secured, they were on to their next stop. Roman denied any teasing of having picked just the right parking spot for prime selfie lighting (not that any of them would have been posted anyway, given his casual look today).

True to their word, Patton stopped in at the local Goodwill and emptied their backpack of stuffed toys and books. If they stopped by the counter to buy something they’d begged be held for them earlier that week, well…

“Darlin’, I dunno how y’all are gonna pull this off.”

“Oh, ye of little faith!” Patton said, running their hands through the purchased scarf to check for any snags or loose threads. “I think I know enough about romance to make it work.”

The snap of Remy’s bubblegum startled Patton into peering up at him.

“You’re joking, right?”

When Patton didn’t answer, Remy reached up and took his sunglasses off. He pointed them right at Patton’s nose, who went slightly cross-eyed trying to focus. “Babes, tell me you’re pullin’ my leg.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh, bless your heart,” Remy cooed, smiling as he perched the eyewear on top of his head. “Honey, romance could be painted on the broad sign of a barn and you’d still miss it.”

“Uhm, hello? Virgil?” Patton replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Planned the cutest prom-posal in the history of prom-posals despite his anxiety after you mistook your first three dates as him trying to get to know Logan better through you.”

“Listen—”

“Yeah? To you yelling at me over the phone about whether or not Virgil kissing you meant he liked you or like-liked you?”

“Remy!” Patton whined.

“I’m just sayin’, sweetie,” Remy relented, “It’s a good thing Logan’s helping.”

Patton huffed, shoving their receipt into the bag. “You’ll still meet us there? You’re kinda important to this going right.”

“Only kinda?” Remy rolled his eyes. “I take offense to that. But yeah, I’ll be there.”

Patton bounced a couple times on their feet, leaning across the counter. Remy couldn’t help grinning as he pressed his lips against their forehead.

“You’ll grow out of that someday.”

“Never!” Patton crowed, backing up and towards the exit. “See you later!”

Patton returned to the car and startled Roman by opening the driver side door.

“I’m afraid we might’ve been a bit dishonest with you,” Logan said, only barely managing to cover smug with sheepish.

“Out, daddio! I’m driving us to the last stop and you get to be blindfolded for it!” Patton exclaimed, bright and mischievous.

“The betrayal,” Roman cried, unbuckling his seat belt. “And so soon before Christmas, too. Whatever are you surprising me with?”

After some poking and prodding at Patton’s ticklish spots and Patton yanking Roman’s beanie down further over his eyes, they were off. Roman didn’t stop griping the entire way. Logan kept the banter going, texting Remy all the while to make sure everything was going according to plan.

—

“I’m here, you’re welcome,” Remy called into the break room very obviously marked Employees Only.

“I’ll only be thankful if you brought lunch,” the pile of blankets on the couch replied, muffled.

“Hot soup, hot cocoa, hot tea.”

“Last one’s literal or figurative?”

“Guess you won’t know ‘til you shed.”

“Uuugh.”

The voice groaned the entire length of shrugging the blankets off until they were all gathered around his waist and over his legs.

“Ah, there he is! Dearest dad emerges from his cocoon.”

Devereux glared at his son as Remy crossed the room and set a plastic bag down on the table.

“All I do for you, just to be relentlessly tormented by your sass.”

“I learned from the best,” Remy said seriously, setting up a series of thermoses and tupperware.

“Suck-up.”

The moment Remy was sat beside him, Devereux was ruffling a hand through his hair, tousling the oh-so-meticulously-taken-care-of locks. Remy shouted in outrage, batting his dad’s hand away and scooting to the other end of the couch.

“All I do for you!”

It took nearly a minute of the two glaring at each other, waiting for one to make the next move. When Devereux’s stomach growled noisily, the stalemate ended. Remy smirked.

“Truce?” He offered.

“... Truce.”

They reached for the table at the same time, picking their own containers. Remy grabbed a thermos, no doubt filled with hot coffee. Devereux chose a microwavable bowl and a spoon, cradling it carefully to his chest. Silence followed for awhile longer while Remy texted with one hand and Devereux stared out the window as he ate, scowling slightly when snowflakes started drifting slowly into view.

“A shame I won’t get home tonight,” he grumbled, glaring into his soup.

“And why’s that?” Remy asked distractedly.

“The weather. Too cold. If only you’d look up from your phone and—”

“Okay, boomer.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m telling mom.”

“Who’s she? Never heard of her.”

Remy took an extra loud sip from his drink, maintaining direct eye contact with his dad as he did so.

“I’m sending you to boarding school. Far, far away. You’ll live with your grandparents.”

“No, not the Witch and the Critic,” Remy hissed, actually suddenly nervous.

“They really aren’t that bad,” Devereux said, doing a terrible job of hiding his self-satisfied grin.

“I had to sneak my caffeine in!”

“It would’ve canceled out Grandma’s sleeping spells.”

“Stop that!” Remy shrieked at the same moment his phone started ringing. He glanced at the screen and then back up. “You’re lucky I love you even when you’re being this mean to me.”

Answering the call, Remy set his thermos back on the table and stood up from the couch. “Y’all make it safe?”

Devereux tuned the conversation out as he put his soup down and worked on getting out of his blanket nest. He cleaned up as Remy chatted, thinking about everything that needed to be done before the day was over. Did the grind ever stop? Not that he’d change anything; Remy was the best thing that happened to him, and while the nightmares had seemed unending at the time, life nowadays was a dream come true in comparison. Sure, there was one unattainable fantasy that would be the cherry on top, but he’d learned not to get his hopes up anymore.

“Got something to show you,” Remy said and Devereux supposed he could put up with whatever nonsense was to follow since Remy had brought him lunch.

They headed out into the library, which was relatively empty since school was out for the holidays. That didn’t change the fact that some families simply couldn't handle being cramped in the same house together for long periods of time. Devereux saw all sorts come through for a reprieve from the stress: teenagers with headphones blaring music loud enough that even he could hear it, parents with tense shoulders that appeared worn out no matter the hour, students visiting home that felt out of place after being away, now in need of a break from their discomfort.

Devereux followed Remy to the private study rooms. These were ideal, usually, for finding some peace and quiet, but he had a feeling some sort of havoc was inevitable.

“Eyes closed!” Remy exclaimed suddenly, pivoting. He practically resembled the Cheshire cat.

They had paused in front of room five. The lights were on and the blinds pulled but Devereux could see shadows moving through the slats.

“Might as well get it over with,” he muttered sarcastically, doing as requested.

Several things happened in the next moment.

Remy knocked once on the door and it creaked open. A hand took Devereux’s wrist and yanked him forward, presumably into the room. He collided into something sturdy, though the sound of crinkling plastic sounded less so. Someone erupted into giggles, another muttered “finally,” and then the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked.

“Oh,” squeaked the voice of whoever it was holding Devereux up from falling backwards.

(‘Whoever,’ we say, as if Devereux wasn’t achingly familiar with this voice.)

His eyes flew open and he resisted yelping in alarm. Just so. Roman was stood in front of him, dressed in loungewear, and holding a bouquet of flowers. He was rapidly turning red and he seemed about as confused as Devereux felt. This wouldn’t last long, it never did with the two of them, but it was really just a matter of who would snap out of it first.

“You look exquisite,” Devereux murmured finally, pulling back from Roman just enough that he could brush a hand along his forearm. “As if you’ve just gotten out of bed and yet… still so effortlessly handsome.”

“I can only imagine how divine it’d be to lay with you,” Roman responded smoothly, “though there’s not been created a material that could match your warmth.”

A pause, both realizing what they’d just said.

“Flowers!” Roman exclaimed suddenly, voice cracking, as he stepped away, and thrust the bundle towards Devereux.

“Wonderful,” he coughed, holding them gently, and admiring the colors. “Not nearly as lovely as you, of course, though one could search the ends of the Earth and still nothing would compare.”

“Why, Devereux,” Roman purred, “it sounds almost like you’re calling me the prettiest thing on the planet—”

“Aren’t you?”

“— when in fact, your beauty outmatches that beyond this world. I’d choose still to gaze into your eyes, reminiscent of sweet honey crystallized, even if offered a glittering sea of endless diamond skies.”

… Was it getting hot in this room? Roman looked exceedingly pleased with himself and Devereux cursed the competitive, theatrical streak they shared. There would be no moving from this spot if they continued like this… Not that he had a problem with it. Roman truly was a vision: hair tousled (Devereux could only imagine combing his fingers through the tangled locks), cheeks rosy (what he’d give to cause that blush daily), lips curved in satisfaction (oh, how he’d love to kiss that grin right off his face).

The same moment Devereux glanced upwards, Roman’s gaze flickered down.

‘Interesting,’ thought Devereux, taking note of the little sprig of green pinned to the ceiling.

Their eyes met again, their smiles melting into something softer, more sincere.

“Our kids will be the death of us,” Roman muttered with a resigned sigh.

“Our?” Devereux echoed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Oh,” Roman managed, breathlessly.

Keeping the flowers tucked in the elbow of one arm, Devereux reached forward with his free hand and rested his palm flat against Roman’s chest. His heart was racing. They had that in common.

It was imperceptible, trying to figure out who leaned closer first. The kiss was hesitant to start, years of yearning and pent up passion and fragile feelings. Once the realization hit, that the pining was mutual, that they both wanted this, that they both had been wanting this…

Well, it was a good thing the window to study room five was shuttered.

—

“Vee, it went perfectly!” Patton screamed into the receiver.

“Uh, yeah, I sure hope it did,” Virgil answered, shifting so that his cellphone stayed firmly between his ear and shoulder, despite Patton’s volume, “given how long they’ve been flirting for.”

Patton went on, gushing about how he and Logan had successfully tricked their dad into driving them to his own trap; how Remy had been instrumental in bribing Devereux with lunch; how they’d unlocked the room to find the pair slow dancing to music playing on Roman’s phone— “A Thousand Years,” covered by Boyce Avenue, they’d discover later.

Had Virgil not been so busy with finals, he surely would have heard the story sooner; it had been just under a week since the set-up and, apparently, Roman and Devereux were, somehow, even more sickeningly affectionate than before.

Not that Virgil would have any room to talk in… He glanced at his watch. The nerves over his flight were replaced quickly by the excited anticipation about seeing Patton in three hours.

“Sweetie?”

“I love you,” Virgil exclaimed suddenly, “just… so much.”

Patton squealed. “Ahh!! I love you too!!”

“Good. That’s… I’m glad. Hey, I gotta email a couple of professors. Talk later?”

“Of course!”

‘Sooner and closer than you think,’ Virgil mused, smiling at his lock screen photo after the call ended. They’d been going through his closet for spring cleaning and despite the silliness at the time, something about seeing Patton wearing his clothes warmed him all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

Virgil let his mind wander as he headed through security and to his gate, wondering just what he’d do during his two weeks back home. Attending college a state over was miserable to start but he’d been grateful there’d been one still relatively close, at least, with his stupidly specific major. He hadn’t been able to visit during Fall break and so it’d been an agonizing five months since he’d last hugged Patton, last held his hand, last— okay Virgil calm down before the touch starvation rears its ugly head.

Boarding, thankfully, took no time at all, since it was a smaller flight. The weather stayed mercifully clear and landing went off without a hitch. Grateful that he’d only needed to bring a carry-on and his backpack, he headed passed baggage claim and right for the pick-up zone outside. He was checking his phone to see where Thomas was parked when a body slammed into him from the side. Before he could panic about being attacked or robbed, his brother’s voice was rambling a mile a minute.

“I literally have so much to tell you, I cannot believe how much has happened since you were here last, and look!” Thomas exclaimed, shoving his phone into Virgil’s face. It was a picture of a kitten he didn’t recognize which meant Thomas had adopted another pet. Virgil gave Thomas a deadpan stare as he rattled off all the reasons he’d definitely needed a new cat.

He threw an arm over Virgil’s shoulders and led the way to the car, still gesturing excitedly as he went on about everything that had happened in Virgil’s absence. Apparently, Halloween had seen a jack-o’-lantern carving contest that was all for naught when Remy and Patton switched pumpkins, Logan’s boyfriend got a little knife happy with the picnic table, and Devereux realized halfway through his design that it was too humiliating for anyone else to see and had promptly threw the entire thing against a tree.

“Was it Roman’s face?” Virgil asked, rolling his eyes.

“Joan swears it was but you know them,” Thomas responded.

“Agent of chaos,” Virgil agreed.

Thanksgiving was the same as each year: Roman and the twins, Devereux and Remy, Valerie, Leo, Joan, Talyn, Terrence, Kenny, and Thomas all gathered at the local theatre. Even if any of them did have a house big enough to host a large group, the theatre held so much weight in all of their lives, and felt like the best place to express all the things they were grateful for— namely, each other. They made sure to leave the stage as clean as at the start of dinner, taking care to not leave any stains or scuffs by laying the floor with a plastic tarp. It took a bit of extra work, everyone having to transport their food, but the following games of charades and group improv made it all worth it.

Virgil swore to himself he’d never miss another one again, college be damned.

“No offense to Roman but the twins really got him good,” Thomas was saying as he merged onto the freeway. “They left Goodwill and just drove in circles until Remy let them know he’d made it to the library.”

“The fact that neither of those disaster idiots had even a clue as to what their kids were planning is…” Virgil gestured broadly, as if he could pluck the word out of thin air, “ridiculous.”

“But not unbelievable!” Thomas added. “I think they get blinded by the gay.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk,” Virgil began but Thomas was slamming the button on the console to turn on the radio, drowning out whatever his brother was planning on saying next.

Virgil just settled into his seat, whistling innocently as Thomas’s face went bright red and Straight No Chaser sang through “The 12 Days of Christmas.”

Making it to the Sanders household took longer than Virgil would have liked but it was three days before Christmas and people were out and about for their last minute shopping. It didn’t help that it had snowed heavily the night before and so traffic was slow moving with everyone driving so carefully.

Still, they arrived before Patton got home, which was the important part. Roman was standing on the porch, waving excitedly as Thomas pulled into the driveway. Virgil glared at the second parked car, recognizing it as Devereux’s, and prayed that Roman didn’t actually have company over. Patton’s surprise was supposed to be known by as few people as possible and the gossip in this town spread fast.

“Welcome home!” Roman exclaimed, yanking Virgil into a hug as soon as he was within arm’s reach.

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said back, voice muffled as his face was pressed against Roman’s shoulder. “I’m happy to see you too, don’t get me wrong—”

“I know,” Roman sighed, dramatically, relenting as he let Virgil go and ushered them in from the cold. “I’m not the one you want to be squished by.”

“Shut up!” Virgil spluttered, swatting at Roman as if that would wipe the amused look off his face.

“Oh, there he is!”

Virgil was accosted the next moment. His face was met this time with a leather jacket and all he did in response was groan. Remy eased back but not before gently tugging once on Virgil’s earlobe and then tapping his nose.

“We are way too old for that,” Virgil complained, scowling.

It lasted all of three seconds before he caved, kicking out to tap the tip of his shoe against Remy’s ankle.

“I still stand by that being a stupid handshake,” Devereux said, appearing out of nowhere just as suddenly as his son had.

“Well good thing it’s not a handshake then, huh?” Virgil replied. However, it went mostly unheard as Roman stole Devereux’s attention at the same time, as if they literally hadn’t just been in the kitchen together three minutes ago.

“I hate this already,” Virgil said, taking his phone from his pocket, hoping for a text from Logan to distract him.

Sure enough, the younger of the twins had sent a photo of Patton at the candy store, eyeing a display case filled with fudge. His pronoun necklace stood out against the white of his sweater and matched the violet beanie pulled over his curls… the same one Virgil had left with him the day he had gone off to college. His heart swelled and if he’d been paying any attention, he’d have noticed the picture Remy snuck of him and the absolutely smitten smile on his face.

Thomas clapped his hands, snapping Virgil out of it. “Okay, I’m gonna drive home. Roe’s gonna follow and then bring us back over here. Doesn’t make any sense for me to be hanging out but, not gonna lie, I think the twins would be sus if Roe wasn’t here.”

“Hey!” Roman protested.

“No offense, darling, but he’s not wrong,” Devereux said, smirking.

At Roman’s put out expression, Devereux pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Remy and Virgil were staring at each other as if they were each other’s cameras on The Office.

“We got the decorations out earlier,” Remy said, pointing towards the living room.

“Oh thank God, please get me away from them before I get cavities.”

The two ducked out of the entryway where they’d all been gathered since Thomas and Virgil’s arrival. For the most part, the house had already been dressed up for Christmas. The tree was lit, the stockings were hung, and there was one final box left to be unpacked. It’d been left on the coffee table, waiting to be opened and taken care of.

“I forget how sappy you look when you’re thinking about Patton.”

Virgil only gave Remy a rather rude hand gesture in return before lifting the lid off the container. Inside were the ornaments he and Patton had made together over the years. It was a tradition they’d had since before they began dating. Some of them were simple, made out of foam or cardboard and drawn on in marker or glitter glue pens; others were glass or ceramics and decorated with paint or sequins. The one thing they all had in common, though, was the indigo ribbon used to hang the baubles. It was the perfect mix of their favorite colors and needed to be special ordered anytime they ran out. Each one had the year written on it wherever there was space for it. Virgil loved them. Patton loved them so much that he refused to hang any of them without Virgil there to do so with him.

According to Roman, who Virgil really had to thank for making this trip possible, Patton hadn’t even considered touching the box housing the ornaments, since there hadn’t been any guarantee of Virgil making it home for Christmas. Now, though…

“Seriously, Virge, if I didn’t already doubt your dark and edgy exterior, I would be right about now.”

“Shut up, Rem,” Virgil said, laughing.

For awhile longer, the pair just caught up on the last half year. Eventually, Devereux and Thomas returned. Apparently, Patton had gotten chilly and sad (not that he’d admit to that last part but there was no hiding it from his twin), so he and Logan were heading home early. That was all fine and good; they mostly had just needed to get Patton out of the house long enough for Virgil to get home and to bring out the special ornaments.

While Virgil wanted to disagree with Thomas, Remy, and Devereux being there, he couldn’t be mad about having them around to keep him distracted… as long as they were gone before Patton arrived. With Remy sticking around… Virgil doubted it would happen, and he wouldn’t actually be mad if it did, but he was very good at hogging Patton’s attention. Which was hardly fair!

Remy got all the attention he could ever ask for already; admittedly, he and Patton had grown up together, were best friends throughout school, not to mention still living near each other and getting to see each other every day and okay sure, without Remy’s guidance, he was pretty sure that even now, Patton wouldn’t believe that Virgil loved him because no offense, but he could propose and Patton would still ask “as like… friends?”

… Alright, so maybe Virgil couldn’t get mad, pretend or not, at Remy being greedy with Patton’s company. That still didn’t make it fair.

The following thirty minutes were agonizing. Sure, this wasn’t going to be nearly as extra and it wasn’t like Virgil wanted to outdo Roman and Devereux’s confession but also if he could outdo the drama gays (a term coined by the majority of the town, which was really saying something), then he’d have it to hold over Roman’s head for the rest of time, and that sounded pretty cool. In his humble opinion, jumping out and surprising your loved one was way more romantic than being locked in a room with them and hoping everything would go well. Was he sure yet when he’d be jumping out and surprising Patton? Nope! He kind of figured it’d just be something he knew.

“They’re here!” Thomas exclaimed, nearly dropping his phone at the suddenness of receiving the text.

“Get out,” Virgil snapped immediately and unthinkingly at Remy and Devereux.

“Kinda late for that, doll,” Remy said, at least looking a little sorry about it.

“We’ll hide out in the crafts room,” Devereux offered, already pulling Remy down the hallway. Virgil pointedly ignored the kiss he blew in Roman’s direction. He very pointedly ignored Roman catching it.

“You know they’ll see Roe’s car, right?” Thomas prompted, grinning.

“I’m glad you’ve already thought up a reason for them to be here then,” Virgil responded, shooting finger guns at his brother, who started stammering reminders that he was terrible with excuses. Never mind that he was an actor and should have been able to improvise something.

“I’ll handle it,” Roman cut in, patting Thomas on the head, which looked a little ridiculous since they were the same height. “Better get hiding, Virgil.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Virgil hurried to the kitchen where he proceeded to shove into the storage closet, which had been cleared out just enough for him to cram his scrawny self into. It smelled like various spices which reminded him of last year and baking cinnamon cookies with Patton. He wondered what they’d make this time.

The sound was muffled but the front door opened and shut and… God, how was he supposed to wait long enough to properly surprise his boyfriend? Just hearing Patton’s voice made Virgil want to throw himself into his arms, to kiss him senseless, to hold onto him and never let go. He steadied his breathing by focusing instead on the various scents surrounding him, only half listening to whatever Roman was saying to the twins. The noises got louder as they moved towards the kitchen, probably for Logan and Patton to put away the desserts they’d gone shopping for.

“Thanks for agreeing to help decorate, even if it is just a— a possibility,” Thomas expressed, voice cracking on the last word. Ugh, he really never had learned how to lie.

“The odds of Virgil actually being able to visit are quite low, Patton,” Logan was saying, “I just don’t want your hopes to get up too high.” Wow. Were they even trying to be subtle?

“I know that!” Patton exclaimed and Virgil was sure he was flapping his hands. “Imagine if he could, though! What if he showed up on Christmas Eve, oh, that would be so magical!”

This certainly wasn’t as magical as it could have been but Virgil was sure he’d explode if he waited a second longer. So as soon as it started to sound like the trio was heading back out, Virgil nudged the door open with his foot. It creaked and he winced. No doubt having peaked Patton’s curiosity, Virgil threw the door open the rest of the way, and practically launched himself at his boyfriend’s back.

Patton, for good reason, screamed.

The arms locked around his neck now, however, allowed him to see the hands clasped over his chest. Purple nail polish. A black ring on the middle finger of the right hand. An old friendship bracelet hanging loosely from the wrist.

Patton screamed again.

“Virgil!”

If asked, neither could guess how long they stayed embraced for. Patton was laughing breathlessly into Virgil’s shoulder, muttering his name over and over, sprinkling in the occasional “I love you.” Virgil couldn’t have stopped combing his hand through Patton’s hair even if he wanted to.

Eventually, they would separate, but only just enough so that Patton could pepper kisses all over Virgil’s face. There might have even been a couple minutes of just gazing at each other, soaking up the mere presence and warmth of the one they loved so dearly.

Of course, they weren’t really alone which meant the reunion had to end at some point. The house was still full of nosy siblings and parents, after all. So, when Remy came crashing into the kitchen, shouting about how bored he was, neither Virgil nor Patton were all that surprised. He stole Patton away, claiming they had to do something really quick and insisting that Virgil catch up with Logan in the meantime.

“Hey, L,” Virgil said, greeting Logan with a signature two finger salute.

“Nice to see you again, Virgil. How was your semester?”

They chatted about college, and their respective majors, and any hall mates from hell. Without really realizing it, they got into making a large batch of hot chocolate for everyone while they talked. Each mug was picked especially for its recipient, as well as the various ingredients added to each one. Virgil dropped a peppermint stick into his, added extra marshmallows to Patton’s, and a generous spoonful of caramel sauce for Thomas.

With Roman’s help, all the drinks were brought out safely to the living room. Devereux seemed to have dozed off in the recliner closest to the fireplace. Thomas was nowhere to be found, so Virgil assumed he’d been roped into whatever nonsense Remy and Patton were up to.

“So,” Virgil started, settling into the corner of the couch. “Did I outdo the drama gays?”

“Absolutely not,” Roman responded vehemently.

“Virgil!” Patton shouted suddenly, appearing from the hallway, carrying a bag. “Honey, oh my god.”

Patton shot an apologetic look towards Devereux, who was stirring from his nap, as he hurried towards Virgil. He threw himself onto the couch next to his boyfriend and abandoned the package in favor of grabbing onto Virgil’s arm.

“Earlier, you…” He paused, giggling. “You came out of the pantry.”

Logan groaned.

Virgil blinked, slightly bewildered, before he started laughing, too. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“I have something for you,” Patton continued, retrieving the present. He shoved it into Virgil’s lap.

“Christmas isn’t for another three days?”

“Yes, and?”

Thomas, who had just arrived with Remy, snorted. “As if you’ve ever had the patience to wait until the actual day to start opening your gifts.”

While Virgil pestered Patton about not needing to get him anything, really, Remy and Thomas fought over the last armchair, and eventually just ended up tangled together on it. Logan rolled his eyes at their stubbornness.

After some insisting from Patton, Virgil pulled out all of the colored tissue paper. Patton proceeded to ball it up and throw it at Remy, whose complaining got progressively louder, until his dad finally tossed a pillow at him with a grumbled “please shut up.” Roman settled on the arm of Devereux’s recliner with the most adoring look in his eyes and carded a hand through his hair, whispering sweetly to him.

“Oh,” Virgil gasped, momentarily losing himself in sensory bliss at the material he’d just got his hands on.

Patton wiggled, patting Virgil’s knees excitedly. It was the very same scarf he’d bought from Remy barely a week ago. It was black which meant it’d go with anything in Virgil’s wardrobe or with whatever outfit Patton decided to wear should he steal borrow it from him.

“Try it!” Patton said, moving the rest of the wrapping out of the way.

Looping it around his neck provided Virgil the realization that it was of an infinity scarf, which meant all sorts of different ways to wear it. Would he still just bundle it up to hide his face in it as much as possible? Probably.

“It’s so soft,” Virgil murmured, rubbing the fabric against his cheek.

“Cashmere,” Remy piped up. “You’re welcome.”

Patton leaned in, waiting with bright, hopeful eyes. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Virgil huffed, failing spectacularly at downplaying his delight. “I love it. Thank you.”

If a person could embody !!!, then Patton would be doing a very good job of it. He surged forward, catching Virgil by surprise with the intensity of the kiss. One hand cradled his face while the other clutched at the scarf, using it to pull him closer. Smiling against Patton’s lips, Virgil couldn’t help but think that this was very much something he’d like to have for the rest of his life.

Later, they would hang up their personal ornaments. Tomorrow, they would work on making new ones. The holidays would only continue to get more magical as the years passed, he was sure of it, and honestly? He was really looking forward to it.

#sanders sides fan fiction #roceit #moxiety #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #romantic roceit #romantic moxiety #dani writes

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thefabytm · 4 years ago

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Will Your Next Smartphone be a Xiaomi? S20 FE 5G vs Mi 10T!

I must start off by saying WOW. Just a few short years ago, I wouldn't have dared to compare a pretty high end Samsung device to any Xiaomi phone. Here we are though, it's 2021, Huawei is pretty much out of the picture given that their phones don't have access to the Google services, Samsung makes great phones, but are usually quite pricey and Xiaomi isn't focused on making only cheap, budget smartphones anymore. Although not available worldwide, the Mi 10 Ultra, which takes every spec and brings it to the max is Xiaomi's way of giving us a sneak peak into what the future holds when it comes to their high end phones.

We are going to divide this comparison into 6 categories: Design, Screen, UI, Performance, Camera and finally, which one deserves your hard earned cash the most? If you're only interested in a specific, feel free to jump to that section through the video progress bar.

Ok, so first of all, the design and quality of the phones. This one is pretty easy, with Samsung you can feel that some corners were cut in order to bring the price down, we have seen this happening with most flagship killers. The back is made out a hybrid material, something that Samsung calls glasstic, but really, it feels like matte plastic. On the Mi 10T, we have Gorilla glass 5 not just on the front, but also on the back with this mirror-like effect. Also, the color of the back shifts from dark grey to almost silver, depending on the light. The frame is made out of aluminium on both, which is to be expected, but overall, the design of the S20 FE is just uninspiring. From the plain camera bump, to the larger bezels, I just don't think the S20 FE takes the crown when it comes to design. The bezels on this phone are slightly larger than on the predecessor, the Galaxy S10 Lite, so I can't say I'm pleased with this. Although the bezels aren't really slim on the Mi 10T either, when holding the phone, you can feel that the materials are of much higher quality, mostly because of the back. The camera bump is more pronounced but at least more interesting than just throwing 3 cameras in column and making the bump much wider than necessary. I must mention, this is not a 4 camera system, as the holes would lead you to believe, one of them is there just for the sake of symmetry. I will say though, the Mi 10T is quite a bit heavier than the S20 FE, a bit larger, mostly because of the larger screen and about a milimeter thicker, so if you appreciate thin & light, the Mi 10T might not be for you. If these things don't bother you, the Mi 10T is an absolute winner, being much closer to flagship territory than the S20FE, when it comes to the design.

Things are going to get a lot more interesting now, let's talk about the screens. On paper, the screen of the Mi 10T might look like the winner. After all, it's larger, coming in at 6.67 inches instead of 6.5 inches and it has an impressive 144Hz refresh rate, rather than 120Hz. There's a catch though, the screen on the Mi 10T is an IPS LCD panel, unlike the Samsung which has an AMOLED screen. This right here is a significant difference and the sole reason why the screen on the Mi 10T is not as good as it could be. Blacks are not as deep as on the AMOLED, because of the backlighting, the refresh rate isn't as impressive as it sounds on paper, because of the high response time, which looks like ghosting if you pay attention. I'm not sure it would've fit the budget, but I can honestly say a 90Hz AMOLED screen would've been the better choice, instead of going all out on the refresh rate but not feeling this benefit because of the LCD panel. Because of the LCD panel, it also means that you are missing out on Always on functionality, but this is the smallest of drawbacks, if you ask me. On the other side, with the Samsung, it's the usual AMOLED with really saturated colors. If you switch colors from vivid to to normal, the colors become too washed out, much more than I'm used to on my iPhone. What I ended up doing is using vivid mode with the blue light filter activated. I'm sure color accuracy suffers because of this, but at least the screen looks closer to what I'm used to.

Next up, we'll discuss the UIs, because it's an important category. This does come down to personal preference though, so what I'll do is tell you what each one can do and any drawbacks that they may have. Let's start off with Samsung, this S20 FE 5G rocks One UI 3 on top of Android 11 and to be honest, Samsung has got their stuff together when it comes to UIs. I get updates quite frequently and will continue to get Android updates until Android 13, Samsung has their own identity now, I like their browser better than Chrome. Also something great that Samsung did for one-handed use is using these large headers at the top, which disappears when scrolling, but mean that you can easily access the buttons when opening the app. Samsung's dedicated one-handed mode is elegant and can be adjusted so the screen shrinks to exactly the size you need. As far as bugs and glitches go, I can happily say that I haven't experienced none and the interface is smooth. On the Mi 10T we have MIUI 12 running on top of Android 10, so we're starting off already with an older version of Android, but this should be updated to Android 11 at some point, hopefully... MIUI feels a bit snappier and it has a lot of great looking notifications, maybe a bit overdone, but it cheers me up seeing stuff happening instead of the boring notifications we all got used to. I like the fact that I can get to the quick settings panel through a single swipe on the right side of the screen instead of two swipes on Samsung. The video toolbox is extremely useful as it lets you listen podcasts on Android with the screen closed. It's not all rosy though, the phone app is for example the stock android one and the UI elements just don't seem MIUI-like, the background of the app is blueish, whereas all the other apps are black because I have dark mode on. Sometimes, an app I use frequently, cellmapper is stuck open and the only way to close it is by force-closing. I am happy to report, though that there are no ads here. In the end, it comes down to personal preference, if you like your phone to be more animated, you'll like MIUI, if you want a more sober experience, go with One UI.

Performance wise, not much to say, both are at the flagship level, given the Snapdragon 865 equipped by both. 6GB of RAM on both, as these are the base models, MIUI seems to be a bit more aggressive with RAM management but this can be tweaked on a per-app basis, so your most used apps aren't going to get closed. I'm impressed that I don't feel the change in the refresh rate on the Xiaomi, as it is adaptive, it's smooth all throughout. One thing I like about the Xiaomi is the side mounted fingerprint reader, it's blazing fast, much faster than any phone I've used so far. With the on screen fingerprint sensor on the S20 FE, I almost always struggle to get it to unlock, it's harder to keep your finger stationary on glass and it seems to have a hard time reading my finger. Overall, I'll give this to the Mi 10T, the fingerprint scanner tips the scale in its direction for sure.

Cameras are a category where sometimes you can really feel that corners were cut. In this case, the Mi 10T doesn't have a telephoto camera, Xiaomi choosing to offer a 5MP macro lens, which although miles better than the 2 MP, it still doesn't come anywhere close to the telephoto when it comes to usefulness. The main camera is a 64MP shooter on the Mi 10T, using pixel binning to get 16MP photos, whereas on the Samsung we have a 12MP sensor. Overall, both take good shots, with the Xiaomi having more details, but losing out on dynamic range and in low light conditions, which is why I'll give this one to Samsung. The Mi 10T shoots 8k video, but that's a gimmick, as there is no video stabilisation at 8k, so you'll most likely end up shooting 4k to get usable video.

So, now the final question. Which one should you get? Well, here's the deal, both of these smartphones are great, but for the price difference, $699 vs about $499, it's hard to justify the price of the Samsung. Yes, the camera is better on the Samsung, but on the other hand, the design on the Mi 10T is higher quality than on the Samsung. I can only recommend the S20 FE if you want an all-around better camera system, partly due to the telephoto, partly due to better dynamic range and low light capabilities or if you absolutely can't live without OLED, though I'd recommend checking it out in real life before making the call. If the camera's not your main focus, spare the money and get the better looking, higher quality built Mi 10T.

Mi 10T (US): https://amzn.to/3bpXrlq

Mi 10T (UK): https://amzn.to/2NXvfi4

S20 FE 5G (US): https://amzn.to/3pKokpC

S20 FE 5G (UK): https://amzn.to/2ZKs67C

#tech #xiaomi #samsung #mi 10t 5g #s20 fe #s20fe #flagship #smartphone #Xiaomi vs Samsung #Mi 10T #Xiaomi Mi 10T #tech review #smartphone review

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fieryrondo · 5 years ago

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my report on skate canada 2019 and how i fell in love with figure skating all over again (part 1)

It’s taken me about a month to sit down and write this. Not necessarily due to lack of time (though that is a factor) but because the experience was so much. Even now, with grainy photos and videos taken with a trembling hand as proof of my time there, Skate Canada feels like a bit of a fever dream. The best kind that leaves you breathless, heart-pounding and longing for more.

I’m not a stranger to traveling alone but this would be my first international venture for something solely recreational, something solely just for me. A purely selfish pleasure. The planning itself was a.process that evolved over the course of months. And to be honest, there were times when I thought this trip wouldn’t happen at all. My flight, booked months in advance, got moved up several hours earlier than expected, forcing me to decide between missing part of the gala or to stay an extra night. Personal problems drained my stamina, and several bouts of poor health stoked the fear that this day would never come. It only became real when I set off for Boston, carry-on, and swan plush in tow, for the first leg of my journey.

Kelowna, a charming lake-resort town in the middle of nowhere British Columbia. There are no direct flights from the East Coast there and I ended up having an overnight stopover in Toronto. From what I saw from the vantage point of the aircraft, Toronto was a beautiful city and reminded me a little of Los Angeles. However, I had little time to appreciate the city. I checked into a hotel to shower, warm up some leftovers, and resurrect my dying phone.

(above) My companions for the journey.

The swan was for Yuzuru, I know it is traditional to give him a Pooh bear but I picked the swan because it was the first program of his that I saw and to this day, it is still my favorite. It has a lot of meaning for me. The Sakura Pooh was my lucky charm, the Pooh ears a last-minute purchase.

Due to my schedule, I had to miss the first day, which itself was a bit of a risk. Isn’t it crazy? Traveling thousands of kilometers just to watch half a competition? I certainly thought so. Not to mention how Yuzuru performed during the short would have a direct impact on how he would approach the free skate. Skate Canada has never been his strongest competition. Even if he was the overwhelming favorite, like most fanyus, I’ve learned to take nothing for granted. When I heard that he skated well in the short, I breathed a little more easily before settling down to draft my letter.

“Perhaps it’s a bit forward of me, a complete stranger, to wish you this, but congratulations on your chest muscles” was the opening line of my letter, as suggested by my good friend Tanya over @turistinmyowncity. I was too embarrassed to actually take photographic evidence but rest assured I did include it. I like to think that it may have made Yuzuru smile. A gold foil origami crane was added for additional luck. Like many fans, I was keeping my fingers crossed for Yuzuru’s first Skate Canada title.

And then it was off to the airport again, this time for the second leg of the flight. Unlike the first flight, not so many passengers were flying to Kelowna and we all got to pick our own seats.

It did not occur to me that catching Yuzuru’s practice was even within the realm of possibility until I had realized that we had arrived in Kelowna 30 minutes earlier than scheduled. A fanyu i had been corresponding with had texted: “Yuzuru’s skating second to last in practice. If you hurry, you might make it.”

*insert dramatic cinematic action sequence where I race to the nearest cab driver, shakily request to be taken to Prospera Palace expediently without breaking any traffic safety laws and then quietly die to the barely heard strains of Origin while the main entrance security guard painstakingly searches my luggage.*

One of the most vivid memories I have of Skate Canada is dragging my ridiculously bulky carryon (gimpy wheel and all) up the flight of stairs in Section 114, trying to flatten myself and become one with the stairwell wall and not get in anyone’s way. A volunteer took pity on me and let me stand on the top of the steps for a closer look. The first thing I saw, of course, was Pooh-san, that bright splash of red and yellow works perfectly as a homing beacon.

I missed Origin but was able to catch the last few minutes of practice. As for first impressions go, I’m afraid I don’t have anything particularly new to offer. Yuzuru looks as exactly as he does in photos. Sharp, precise, graceful. And fast! He kept practicing what looked like his entrance into quad loop.

With men’s practice over, I met up with fellow fanyu VentusCantabile, an extremely sweet person with an excellent singing voice :). I dropped off my luggage at our Airbnb (conveniently located two blocks away) before rushing back over to the arena for the free dance. The venue itself is not that big so even in seats from the nosebleed section you can get a pretty good view. I was in section 112, the closest I could get to the judges' side view and also got a decent(ish) view of the kiss and cry.

I must confess that I don’t really follow ice dance and am unable to provide anything insightful. To me, everyone looked absolutely stunning. I cheered extra loud for Sara Hurtado/Kirill Khaliavin, the first Spanish ice dancers to win a Grand Prix medal. It’s no secret that I miss Javi terribly since his retirement so it was so nice to see Spanish figure skating continue to make strides. Sara’s story is also particularly inspiring. Like Javi, she has worked extremely hard to put Spanish figure skating on the map.

Other teams that impressed were: Gilles/Pourier, Hubbell/Donohue and Fear/Gibson. Fear/Gibson had an especially fun program and the Russian family next to me were so cute in that they were cheering for all of the European teams.

And then it was time for the ladies.

Media will talk about Trusova’s mindbogglingly difficult quads, Rika’s sublime triple axel, Medvedeva’s fight of a free, but the free skate of the night for me personally was Marin’s La La Land. So tenderly skated! Marin is so lovely and a true pleasure to watch live. To watch her bravely skate through (bandage and all) the best free she’s had in ages, how meaningful it must have been. And thus the first sea of Japanese flags washed through the stands.

Here is Evgenia! Her dress is actually extremely beautiful. A very charismatic skater, there were a lot of fans who had come from overseas to cheer for her.

Cute podium :)

Then a break for lunch. The funniest thing I found about being in Kelowna is how it is no exaggeration that figure skating fans just take over the town. The restaurant we went to was packed full of figure skating fans. Talking with fanyus was surprisingly easy. A bit awkward at first but it wasn’t long before we were easily chatting about scoring GOE guidelines and work and other fandom interests.

Then back to the rink for pairs. Given that there was a dearth of filled seats in the lower rows, I half-guiltily took the opportunity to sit a bit closer.

Watching pairs. Is. Terrifying. Lifts are hella more impressive. Twists are gravity defying. Throws are put your hands together and pray the guy does his part to help his partner land those jumps.

Vladimir Morozov lifting Evgenia Tarasova. I appreciated them a lot more live. Their elements are huge and so so clean.

Boikova/Kozlovskii are also now officially my favorite Russian pairs team. I had originally planned on filming their free since seeing quality pairs skating is such a rare opportunity in the US (cough, cough, please invest in pairs more, usfsa). I could not take my eyes off of them for one second. They were so confident and radiating electric charisma from start to finish. A young team with a very bright future!

Between the break, I also spotted Elladj Blade and Kevin Reynolds, the latter was kindly signing autographs. I was too shy to approach either of them but let me tell you Kevin is very sweet with little kids.

And then on to the men! The arena was starting to fill again so I ended up moving up a few rows. I was nervous (for a variety of reasons) but this was ultimately the event I came to see. Watching men is a bit like Russian roulette, you can either expect magnificence or implosion (or sometimes both). Not too many falls but pops are quite painful to see, especially when you know they are so costly. Still, there was a lot to like. Watching Matteo made my heart ache because his style reminds me so much of Javi’s (and doing a flamenco program does not make that association any easier). Roman is also really gorgeous to watch live, but he was so nervous during the free he was unable to show us what he’s really capable of.

At some point, you can sense the audience’s point of focus shift, probably during Camden’s skate (also really liked Camden!). I was sitting pretty close to the side of the skater’s entrance and noticed that all of the fans right by the stairwell had their phones/cameras out. Stairwell shooting is always a reliable indicator of Yuzuru’s arrival ^^

That roar of approval when Yuzuru takes off his jacket is something else. Origin 2.0 is a beautiful costume and way, way more sparkly in real life. Photos don’t quite do the sparkles justice.

Those six minutes of warm-up were honestly some of the most stressful I’ve experienced. Yuzuru kept drilling the quad loop, the jump that he had been having trouble with during practice. After he had gotten a beautiful one under his belt (good, please do that again in the free), he seemed to calm down.

I found it very difficult to concentrate on the other skaters in the second group. By then the stadium was packed and every seat was filled. I had doubts about whether or not I would even get the chance to throw my gift onto the ice because I was so high up and nowhere near the aisle. Worst case scenario, I would just keep my swan.

Keiji!!! He was so fun to watch here. I really love both of his programs this season and he was totally on from the very first jump! Not gonna lie, I saw my life flash before my eyes when he almost ran straight into the boards on his second sal, and then the dainty single toe on the end made me laugh. :)

So it never occurred to me, a formerly strictly broadcast viewer, the amount of time that skaters have right before they skate. There is SO much time. While they were doing the slow-mo replay and the judges were punching buttons, Yuzuru was already whizzing on the ice. He landed a very beautiful quad toe. Feather light. Airy. Calm and commanding, he looked good to go.

youtube

At this point, I put down my phone. Although part of me cried at the thought of not having a personal recording of Yuzuru’s free, it felt important to focus entirely on him with my own two eyes.

There are no words that can quite describe what I felt when watching Origin. When I look back on this skate, I can only remember how hard I ground my teeth. How I could feel the opening drum beats like the beats of a human heart. How my knuckles whitened as they grasped the edge of my hard seat. Yuzuru went for the loop and spun out, clinging on to the ice by the edge of his blade. Not the prettiest landing but he made it.

The sal next, smooth as silk. Step sequence, violin choreo(!!), that scream for the prettiest triple lutz I’ve seen. Quad toe. How many quads left. My fingernails were digging into my plastic wrapped swan. THAT FUCKING QUAD TOE-EULER-TRIPLE FLIP. Ahhhhhhhh, roll of thunder, hear our cry.

The CLAPPING. 6000 voices in perfect synchrony. Every completed jumping pass felt like a victory charge. That bionic knee bend determination to eke out that double toe. All jumping passes cleared. At some point I must have started breathing again. A song in my heart, indiscriminate joy squeezing the heck out of my vocal cords. Lay down that ina bauer! A tiny slip on the hydroblade but he’s done it. He’s ground the silver curse to dust. When you’re screaming at the top of your lungs but you can’t hear a thing because everyone else around you is screaming louder than you. Final clapping sequence. Dramatique pose, punch the air. Sound your barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

322.59!!! Feels. So. Damn. Right.

#yuzuru hanyu #skate canada 2019 #season: 2019 2020 #personal #my ears are still deafened from the screaming #part 2 will be gala!

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miumiu-chan · 4 years ago

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Miyase Go STORY 1 Chapter 12-4

Subbed video: STORY-1 12-4

-Movie Theater-

Miyase-san first took me to a mini theater.

[MIYASE]: “Going to the movies together really feels like a date. Haha.”

[REI]: (He’s in high spirits......Cute.)

The posted time schedule was filled with indie films and revival screenings.

[MIYASE]: “It seems that a movie called “Attack of the Killer Bell Peppers” will be screening in 15 minutes.”

[REI]: “It says it’s a movie from 40 years ago. I’ve never watched it before.”

[MIYASE]: “From the synopsis, is it a horror genre?”

[MIYASE]: “Monster peppers attack humans......”

[REI]: “Monster peppers......I can’t imagine it, but it might be surprisingly scary.”

[MIYASE]: “If Rei-san is scared, would it be better not to, then?”

[REI]: “Scary things are as scary as people, but since we’re here I want to try seeing it.”

[MIYASE]: “Then, I will go buy the tickets.”

[REI]: “Then, I’ll be in charge of drinks. Do you want anything?”

[MIYASE]: “Cola, please. Haha.”

-In town-

[MIYASE]: “Kuku......-, aha-, it’s no good, I just remembered it. Ahaha.”

[REI]: “You’re still laughing......”

[MIYASE]: “Sorry. Because Rei-san’s mumbling while watching the movie......Fufu, it was too funny.”

[MIYASE]: ““You’re kidding me......” you said, ahaha. I can’t help but laugh.”

[REI]: (Miyase-san really does have a strange sense of humor sometimes......)

[REI]: “Sorry I infringed on manners.”

[REI]: “But doesn’t that movie make you want to mumble stuff?”

[REI]: “Because on the way, didn’t you see the monster peppers moving the truck?”

The contents and level of completion were so different that I searched online after the movie was over.

“Attack of the Killer Bell Peppers” was a famous movie that was popular as a cult in many ways.

[MIYASE]: “Ahaha. It was really the most fun I’ve had watching a movie in my life.”

[MIYASE]: “Now then, where do you want to go next?”

[REI]: “I’m fine with anywhere......Ah-“

[MIYASE]: “Hm? Do you want to enter that shopping building?”

[REI]: “If Miyase-san won’t feel bored, then I want to go.”

[REI]: “When I was choosing clothes for today, I thought there weren't many summer clothes I had.”

[MIYASE]: “There’s no way I can be bored when I’m with Rei-san.”

[REI]: “Nh......”

[MIYASE]: “Haha, Rei-san is easy to understand, you’ll make my face turn red, too.”

[MIYASE]: “Let’s go?”

My hand that was gently grasped...——This time, I also gripped back right away.

Even though I hadn't redone my makeup, the thick blush that dyed my cheeks remained the same as it was in the morning.

-Shopping Building-

[REI]: “Um......how is it?”

I opened the curtains of the fitting room.

[MIYASE]: “......Ah, I like that.”

Bam! A kyun bullet (——which I named just now——) shot into my chest.

[MIYASE]: “It looks really good on Rei-san.”

[REI]: “Thank you......”

[REI]: “But I was thinking this is a little too beautiful for me.”

[MIYASE]: “You’re a beautiful person, so it's natural that beautiful clothes would look good on you, though?”

[REI]: (Th-This is bad......!)

[REI]: (At this rate, the kyun bullets will make me full of holes!)

[MIYASE]: “Ah, but there are lots of times when Rei-san looks cute......”

[MIYASE]: “That’s amazing. You have both qualities.”

[REI]: (Evacuate all members—————!!!!)

[MIYASE]: “Ahh......but the clothes may be a little too revealing.”

[MIYASE]: “I hope you can wear it just in front of me.”

[REI]: “I-I’ll get the one I wore earlier after all! It‘s simple and easy to move in.”

[MIYASE]: “Yeah. That one suited you too, it was cute.”

[MIYASE]: “I’ll wait, so take your time changing clothes.”

[REI]: (Haa......I thought I was going to die.)

——2 minutes later.

When I got out of the fitting room, Miyase-san had a paper bag in his hand from the shop.

[REI]: “That, couldn’t be......”

[MIYASE]: “Mn. I bought it.”

[REI]: “Thank you. Then, the payment-“

[MIYASE]: “It’s a present.”

[MIYASE]: “Or rather, earlier at the movie theater, you had bought the drinks.”

[REI]: “That’s because Miyase-san didn’t let me pay for my ticket......”

[MIYASE]: “Haha.”

[REI]: “? Why are you laughing?”

[MIYASE]: “It’s just this kind of exchange is really fun.”

[MIYASE]: “Is Rei-san having fun, too?”

[REI]: (Uu......so cute. But!)

[REI]: “......You can’t fool me, you know? You definitely have to let me pay for it later.”

[MIYASE]: “Yes, yes.”

-Zoo-

Next, we headed to the amusement park as requested by Miyase-san.

[MIYASE]: “Shall we have lunch at the rose garden over there first? I wonder if there is a bench.”

[REI]: “On the park map......Ah, there is a description of a rest space.”

[MIYASE]: “Then, we can eat food while looking at the roses.”

[REI]: “Yes. Let’s go.”

-Rose Garden-

I was instantly fascinated by the generous amount of flowers.

[REI]: “Wow, beautiful......”

[MIYASE]: “It’s stunning......”

[REI]: “I knew that the rose garden in this amusement park was famous, but I didn’t think this much.”

[MIYASE]: “I've always wanted to come here”

[MIYASE]: “And look at the flowers together with someone who would honestly say they’re “beautiful”.”

[REI]: (Ah......)

[MIYASE]: “I think that the impression from viewing flowers reflects the mind of the viewer.”

[REI]: (The Miyase-san right now who is looking at the flowers with me, can honestly think that they are “beautiful”.)

[REI]: (Somehow, that......makes me really happy.)

When I became clearly aware of my feelings for Miyase-san on the vacation trip.

I felt uneasy about the emotions that sprouted in my heart.

I couldn't really see a future.

[REI]: (But now, I feel like I grew up touching on Miyase-san’s various emotions.)

I felt that I grew into flowers of gentle colors.

[MIYASE]: “Did you know that the number of roses has a meaning when you give them as gifts?”

[REI]: “Ah, I’ve heard about that.”

[REI]: “I only know the major one that 108 roses means “Please marry me”, though.”

[MIYASE]: “It’s very romantic, isn’t it?”

[MIYASE]: “There are many other meanings as well.”

[MIYASE]: “Recently, I......really liked the meaning of giving 999 roses.”

[REI]: “999 roses......That’s a lot.”

[REI]: “As expected, you can’t really decorate with that much......or maybe it’d be a good first attempt at a rose bath?”

[MIYASE]: “Ahaha. That’s really a Rei-san-like answer.”

[REI]: “What is the meaning of giving them?”

[MIYASE]: “That’s a secret. Because it’s embarrassing.”

[MIYASE]: “When you’re alone, you can secretly investigate.”

[REI]: “When you say it like that, I’ll be really curious about it......”

[MIYASE]: “Now then, shall we have lunch?”

[REI]: (You really won’t tell me......I'll look it up when I get home.)

I was sure the meaning of 999 roses was also romantic.

While thinking about that, I spread the bento I made on the garden table in the rest space.

“For lunch on the date, I want to eat a love-filled bento together with you.”

These are the words Miyase-san told me on the phone three days ago.

[MIYASE]: “I made sandwiches.”

[REI]: “Mine is onigiri.”

[MIYASE]: “It looks really good.”

[REI]: “Miyase-san's sandwiches also look delicious.”

[MIYASE]: “Thank you. Then——“

[MIYASE & IZUMI]: “Thank you for the food.”

We both reached first for what the other person made, which made us laugh.

[MIYASE]: “......Hm? There’s fried chicken inside the onigiri.”

[REI]: “Ah, it’s suddenly a strange combination, isn’t it.”

[REI]: “I thought it‘d be an unbelievable thing to do, but I also thought it wouldn’t be interesting if just all the standard ingredients were used.”

[MIYASE]: “Haha. It’s delicious.”

[MIYASE]: “This fried chicken......is not thigh meat, but chicken breast meat?”

[REI]: “Aoyama-san told me that if I want to put it in onigiri with strong seasoning, it‘s better to have less fat.”

[MIYASE]: “............Heeh. Aoyama-san did.”

[REI]: “It seems that he can actually cook.”

[REI]: “Such a thing, and he didn't tell me the details.”

[MIYASE]: “You sure get along well.”

[REI]: “Rather than get along......, he really teased me a lot.”

[REI]: “When I said that I would make a bento for when I go out with Miyase-san.”

[MIYASE]: “Eh......”

[REI]: “Ah-, could it be I shouldn't have said we’d be meeting in private?”

[MIYASE]: “Ah......no. I just didn't think you would tell them.”

[MIYASE]: “Maybe everyone at the DCD don't think too well of me and you meeting like this?”

Certainly, it wasn’t a welcome mood.

But even when I was sincerely told that they didn’t think it was a good idea, I said that wasn’t the case, because——....

[REI]: “I trust Miyase-san.”

[MIYASE]: “Rei-san......”

[MIYASE]: “......Thank you.”

[MIYASE]: “Your trust makes me happy more than anything.”

-Amusement Park-

After a very satisfying lunch, we went on to the amusement park zone.

The attraction that Miyase-san was going to go to by pulling our connected hands——...I knew which one.

[REI]: (The merry-go-round......)

[MIYASE]: “I want to ride together with you.”

[REI]: “Yes. Let’s ride it, together.”

We smiled and straddled each of the fairy tale horses lined up next to each other.

[MIYASE]: “It looks like we could hold hands. But it’s dangerous, so I guess we can’t.”

[REI]: “That’s true. Let's ride with good posture like Kujo-san.”

[MIYASE]: “Ahaha. Soma-san is the best example.”

[STAFF]: 『Then everyone, enjoy horseback riding in the magical world.』

The merry-go-round began to spin with fantasy music flowing.

[MIYASE]: “Ah......”

[REI]: “Ah”

I thought this would be a fairy tale horseback riding where we could look at each other's faces next to each other.

But for some reason, my horse started moving forward.

[REI]: “Miyase-san......”

[MIYASE]: “............”

Looking back, Miyase-san's smile came into view, and I——...

Choices:

Called his name again

Returned a smile

Became anxious (♡)

Somehow, I became anxious.

I didn’t want to go any further on my own.

I wanted to line up together next to each other.

[MIYASE]: “It's okay to look forward.”

[REI]: “But......”

[MIYASE]: “From here, I can properly see Rei-san’s appearance having fun.”

[MIYASE]: “That’s good enough for me.”

[MAN]: “Ah, heyyy mama! Go! Wave your hand towards papa’s camera!”

[MIYASE]: “Oh......?”

[REI]: (Go, he said, the same name as Miyase-san?)

There was a carriage diagonally behind the horse he was riding.

Riding it was a boy in the lower grades of elementary school and a woman who was probably his mother.

Both of them smiled and waved at the father holding the camera.

[MIYASE]: “......The merry-go-round is nice after all.”

[REI]: “Miyase-san, let's ride the carriage later, too.”

[MIYASE]: “Yes, let's ride it together.”

It was a very, very fun and glittering time.

When the merry-go-round kept spinning with only happiness, it was almost like an illusion——...

#stand my heroes #sutamai #miyase go #translations

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itsybitsyatiny · 5 years ago

Text

The other side of the man/ Song Mingi x reader

I don’t own this pic, credits to the originals source

Mingi x female!reader

summary: Mingi feels the need to show you that every man has two sides

warnings: nothing really, some curse words maybe and a little smut at the end...oh and my bad english since it’s not my first language lol

a/n: This is my first attempt at writing Ateez Fanfiction so please be gentle with me haha. I’m open for any requestes. I hope you enjoy!

Completely drenched by the rain, y/n stood in the elevator and was on her way to the sixth floor. The rain dripped from her clothes and caused a tiny puddle on the floor of the elevator. She stared blankly in front of her and just thought about finally coming home, being able to shower and lying down in bed. The work had been awfull and she had often been about to hit a customer in the face. Her job was the reason she hated a lot of people, it wasn't easy as a waitress. Her phone vibrated and as she lowered her eyes she discovered a new message from her sister. She rolled her eyes immediately, knowing what was going on. Almost a week ago, her sister got engaged to her boyfriend and now she would throw a huge party to show everyone how great she was and rub it into everybody’s face. Y/n opened the message and found a cheesy party invitation, just thinking about it made her feel sick. The relationship with her sister was not good at all. Since she was a child, her sister had to be in the spotlight and constantly draw attention. Y/n had always hated going to parties just to make her sister feel superior. She decided not to reply to the message yet and put her phone back in her pocket. The elevator doors opened and she stepped into the hall. She sighed in relief when she opened the door to her apartment and was able to get out of her uncomfortable shoes. It was pleasantly warm in the hallway, the heating seemed to be working again. She stroked the wet strands of hair from her face and dropped her jacket and bag before coming into the living room and stopping in the door frame. Three men sat next to each other on the couch, focused on their video game. The small table in front of the couch was full of snacks, pizza boxes, and a few bottles of beer. She looked at her boyfriend Mingi with whom she had been living in this apartment for 2 years. He didn't seem to notice her presence before she cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest. When he turned his head his face brightened and he started to smile. "Hey!" Y/n didn't answer, instead gave his friends a quick hello with a tired smile and went into the bedroom. She wasn't in the mood for small talk, she was soaked, pissed off, tired and didn't want to show his friends how bad her day was. She was just getting some clothes out of the closet so that she could change immediately after the shower when Mingi also came into the room. "You ok?” He asked her concerned and came closer. "Don't expect me to clear the dirt in the living room." She growled annoyed and looked at him angrily. He smiled slightly and cocked his head "Bad day?" She looked at him warningly and sighed wearily. "My day was absolutely shitty, everything hurts." She murmured and grimaced. He clicked his tongue and pulled her into a tight hug. "And you're wet." he said, amused, and stroked her wet hair. "Yeah no shit." She said annoyed and pushed him away from her. He laughed and pulled her back to him "My poor baby. Come take a shower, I'll clean up and kick the boys out." He suggested and kissed her cheek briefly. "No, it's okay. They don’t have to leave on my account," she said, shaking her head. But Mingi was already back in the living room. She shrugged and went to the bathroom. The shower had done well, she felt much better and was happy to finally wear sweatpants and a comfortable T-shirt. She dried her hair with a towel when she came into the living room and looked around with big eyes. He hadn't promised too much, the table was tidy and the couch was empty. He was sitting on the couch looking at his cell phone. "Wow." She was impressed and sat next to him on the couch. "Surprised?" He asked her smiling and poked her in the side. "A little, after all, you're the biggest mess I know." He smiled and pulled her against him with his arm. "Look at this." He handed her his cell phone where a video was open. It showed his good friend San how he had a dance battle with a toy robot in a shop. She could hear Mingi's laugh in the background and sometimes saw the camera shake. She smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Suddenly she noticed an unpleasant smell and wrinkled her nose. When she raised her head again, she saw a stain on his shirt and raised an eyebrow "This needs to be washed." He frowned and smelled "Really?" She made a disgusted face and shook her head. "You're disgusting." She said and slapped him on the shoulder. "You're disgusting." He mimicked her words in a high voice and pouted before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back towards him. "Mingi, stop!" She squealed but his grip was too strong. He pushed her into the couch and started tickling her, it didn't take long for her to start laughing. "Better?" He asked after a while and stopped tickling her. He laid between her legs and looked down at her. She took a deep breath and smiled, "You almost choked me but yes, I'm better." She said cheekily and pinched his arm. "Ouch!" Grinning, he shook his head and leaned down to put his lips to her neck. He pressed a gentle kiss on her skin before taking a deep breath and blowing against her neck. It sounded like a fart and y/n cried out in alarm. Mingi laughed out loud and raised his head again. She already blushed with laughter and then shook her head "You are the biggest child I know." "I thought I was the biggest mess?" "You are a messy child." She sighed and rubbed his red hair. She loved this hair color, it suited him. Her stomach growled and Mingi looked at her questioningly. "Is there someone hungry?" "Very much. Have you left some pizza?" "Sure, I'll get you something." He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. She straightened up and stroked her hair before tossing him a loving smile. Her cell phone rang, she knew who was calling her. She groaned loudly and felt for her phone. "Hey." She said dryly. "You didn't respond to my invitation." Her sister said and y/n rolled her eyes. "I was working all day." "So you can answer me now? Are you coming?" She sighed and chewed on her lip. "Sure, Mingi and I are looking forward to it." She said sarcastically. "You bring Mingi with you?" "Yes of course." "Oh." "Got a problem?" "Don’t you think he’d feel uncomfortable? Jim's friends are all a little fancier and very formal. Does he even own a suit?” y/n could feel her tense up and her jaw tightened. "Does that mean Mingi isn't as classy as your friends?" "No, that’s not what I mean. He's just ... well you know what I mean. Of course he is invited too but I don't want you two to feel weird." She shook her head in disbelief and knew exactly what her sister's problem was. Mingi was a clown, he had a lot of humor and was not a stuck up snob like her friends. Her sister was just afraid that he would embarrass her. “Whatever, see you at the party.” She ended the call and threw her cell phone back on the sofa. "Bitch." She cursed furiously and leaned against the couch. "Huh, kinky. But I like it.” Mingi said impressed as he set down a plate of pizza in front of her and handed her a bottle of beer. She smiled briefly and shook her head "No not you. My sister’s a bitch. She invited us to her engagement party." "How dare she?" He asked, shocked, and sat next to y/n. "You know her, her and her friends are all snobby. I'm already looking for an excuse so we can cancel." "I never say no to a party, let's go." He said and shrugged. Y/n laughed and shook her head "Trust me, you don’t want this." She assured him and drank from her beer. "Why not? I know your sister." "Yes, but you don't know all of her friends. It gets really boring, everyone has to come in a suit, behave politely and blah blah blah." She said annoyed and grimaced. Mingi chuckled "That shouldn't be a problem for me, I'm the perfect gentleman." He said proudly before he accidentally knocked his beer over. "Fuck" he cursed and ran to the kitchen to get a towel. “Yeah, the perfect Gentleman.” Y/n mumbled under her breath and took a bite from her pizza. After clearing the puddle, he cleared his throat and looked at her with a nervous smile. "You trust me, do you? "What do you mean?" "Do you think I will embarrass you at the party?" "No, of course not, but my sister believes that. You know how she is." Y/n rolled her eyes. He nodded but his smile disappeared. "But you know I can be a gentleman too, right?" "You have enough qualities. You are funny, caring and you always make me laugh, that's all that matters to me." She assured him and kissed him on the lips. He smiled weakly but her words had unsettled him. Did everyone really think he was just a silly clown? "You got more video of San embarrassing himself in public?" She asked with a grin and leaned against his shoulder. Mingi smiled tightly and swallowed hard before nodding and handing her his phone.

The day of the party came faster than y/n liked. She had to go through a few hard days at work before the big evening came. She had bought a nice dress so as not to get a stupid comment. She had told Mingi to just put on a white shirt and jeans. She didn't care what her sister thought of him. She preferred someone like Mingi over a stupid wannabe James Bond like her sister’s fiancé. As she changed in the bedroom, she looked worriedly at the clock and wondered where Mingi was. They would have to leave in 15 Minutes and he still wasn't home. She decided to call him and waited impatiently. However, he did not answer his phone. Instead, a short message came from him that irritated her. "Meet you there, xxx.“ She frowned and wondered what could be the reason that they couldn't drive together. She would ask him at the party. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt uncomfortable. This dress, the high heels and the make up. She felt strange as if she weren't herself. She had hoped that they would still be able to avoid the party. She dreamed of staying on the couch, eating burgers, and watching a funny movie. She sighed and couldn't wait for the evening to be over. She reached for her keys and purse before leaving the apartment. She took a cab since Mingi got the car. When she arrived at her sister's house and saw the many people, she thought about just leaving. Instead, she took a deep breath and decided to get through this evening in order not to grant her sister this triumph. When she came into the house, she saw a security man. Of course, her sister had to hire security to take care of the invitations and to take her jackets and coats from the guests. Y/n gave him a polite smile before picking up the phone and looking for a new message from Mingi. "Where are you?" She wrote him a message and looked around nervously. She knew a few people but was aware what they all thought of her. For her sister's friends, she had always been the little girl. She made her way through the hall and came into the kitchen where she discovered her sister. "Hey, I'm so glad you're here." Y/n just smiled wryly and nodded silently. "I'm still waiting for Mingi, he's a little late." "Oh, Mingi’s here. He’s in the garden with Jim.” “He is what?” "I don't know what you said to him, but it worked. You never said that he’s fluent in spanish." Y/n looked at her sister in confusion. Who was she talking about? "Mingi is already here?" She asked, puzzled, and frowned. "Sure, in the garden. I have to go to a couple of friends who want to see my ring." Her sister reached out and presented her engagement ring to y/n. However, y/n was distracted. She gave her a short compliment and then went into the large garden where more people were waiting for her. There was a buffet, some music and a bartender was at the house bar to mix cocktails. She paid little attention to what was happening. Instead, she looked around for her boyfriend and prepared to attack him with a thousand questions. "Y/n!" When she turned her head, she saw her parents standing at a table. "You look great." Her mother said when she came to them and greeted them. "Thank you, mom." Y/n said with a smile and continued to look around. "Have you-" "May I?" When y/n turned around, her jaw dropped. Mingi had come to them and was carrying two glasses in his hands. He handed one of them to her father and then kissed y/n on the cheek. She looked at him with wide eyes. His red hair was darker than usual. He was wearing a black suit with a black tie and white shirt. A polite smile was on his face and he smelled pleasantly of perfume. She eyed him in wonder and wondered who this man was? He looked incredibly good but she had never seen him like this before. She only knew him in ripped jeans, hoodies or T-shirts. "Mingi told us you had trouble at work. You really should quit." Her mother cocked her head and looked at her. Y/n swallowed hard and looked at Mingi in surprise, "Yes, I really should." She said, perplexed, as he put his hand on her hip. "Mingi just played us something on the piano. You never said he was this good." Y/n's father looked impressed at Mingi and she could hardly believe it. Her family hadn't liked him since she was with Mingi. She wondered what had happened and since when had he been playing the piano again? She knew he had a few lessons as a child, but he had told her that he didn't enjoy playing. “Oh did he? Amazing.” She pressed out before she grabbed his hand. “Would you excuse us for a second?” She pulled him into a quiet corner and stared at him in surprise. “Care to explain?” “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about” He stood up and raised an eyebrow, clasping his hands and giving a polite smile to other guests. "Where did you get this suit from?" "I had it in my closet." "Mingi, I know your closet. You don't have a suit." "I thought it would be appropriate to get a suit." She frowned and smiled slightly. "You're not doing this to prove anything to my sister, are you?" He chuckled and shook his head gently "I assure you, I just want to be a good guest and adapt to the celebrations." “And adapt to the celebrations.” Y/n mimicked his voice and chuckled. But he was having none of it, he looked at her with a raised brow. “Oh come on, you gotta admit that was funny. You sound like downton abbey.” She giggled and gently pushed his shoulder. “It is not possible to sound like an entire tv series.” He corrected her dryly und cleared his throat. Her smile disappeared and she crossed her arms over her chest "You just made it possible." He smiled just before he leaned over to look her in the eye. "If I were you I would watch my tone, you don't want to be embarrassing, do you?" He told her in a raspy voice. She gulped before he turned around to get back to her parents. She eyed him and had to admit that this suit really looked stunning on him. It fit his body perfectly and made him look even taller than he already was. She felt a tingling sensation and the heat shoot into her face. She knew that this man wasn't really Mingi. He played a role and wanted to be the perfect gentleman. She grinned diabolically and decided that two could play this game. She wanted to leave this stupid party and let him have his way with her, but instead she decided to have some fun. When she came back to her parents and Mingi she smiled broadly and took a glass of champagne from a table. “You okay?" Her mother looked at her questioningly. Y/n nodded quickly and emptied the glass in one go. She coughed briefly and smiled sheepishly "I just got a little hot, must be the dress. It's so damn tight, I can hardly breathe and I feel like my breasts are jumping out." Her father cleared his throat and looked away from his daughter. She looked at Mingi who just chuckled and raised an eyebrow. She knew that she had to pull out more to get him upset. They talked about work, the apartment and what Mings plans. Y/n watched him closely as he spoke, he was so serious and professional. She was impressed and a little turned on by him. He knew exactly what he was talking about and she had never seen him that confident like he was at that evening. He was talking about his car when y/n came a little closer to him and pretended to listen to him. Instead, she carefully ran her hand over his thigh and gently applied pressure. Mingi twitched briefly and she was grateful that the table covered her hand so no one could see what she was doing. She kept her hand on his thigh and waited patiently for her father to engage Mingi in a conversation. Then she moved her fingers and approached his crotch whereupon Mingi started to cough and moved his hip to remove her hand. She chuckled and took a sip from the next Glas of Champagne. Over time she got bored and was frustrated with how serious Mingi took his role. She missed his jokes and obscene gestures that always made her laugh. She talked to her sister and fiancé but the later it got the more tired she became and she just wanted to go home. After a while she had taken a seat in a chair and got herself a whole tablet with glasses. Mingi was with the other guests and she could see how popular he was. They all hung on his lips and couldn't get enough of him. She was drinking from her fourth glass when he came up to her and gave her his polite smile. She raised her head and rolled her eyes "Save your smile, you won. My feet hurt and my stomach hurts from this champagne." She expected a clever comment but instead he reached her his hand and winked at her. "Shall we go home?" He offered. She looked at him suspiciously but then grabbed his hand so he could pull her up. They said goodbye to all the guests; her sister didn’t even notice them leaving.

"Thank god, I just want to get out of this dress and go to bed. This party was terrible, I’ll probably be sick tomorrow from this cheap alcohol." Y/n moaned when they arrived at their apartment and she took off her shoes. "I found the champagne quite pleasant, it had a sweet note on the finish that went well with the strawberries." Mingi took off his jacket and stroked his hair. "Okay, now you want to annoy me." She rolled her eyes and looked at him. "Pardon?” "We're home. You can stop talking like that now, it's getting creepy." “I’m just expressing my thoughts, that is all.” He explained to her and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. She looked at him and bit her lip “Are you doing okay? Do you need some water?” He asked her before she flashed him a smile and shook her head. “Nope, I’m fine. I’m just glad we’re at home now since I was this close blowing you in front of all those people.” He chuckled and went into the kitchen to get himself some water “I noticed. That's not how you behave in public“ “Yeah.” She also went into the kitchen und leaned against the counter. “Did you have fun?” He took a sip of his glass and shrugged “I found it quite nice, I met very interesting people.” “Oh yes, very interesting. Talking about Insurance, Money and expensive cars.” She said ironically and rolled her eyes. “Hey, never judge a book by its cover.” “This doesn’t even make sense.” She laughed and took a step closer to him. “Mingi.” She flashed him a pleading look. “Yes?” He cocked an eyebrow while she grabbed his hands. “Please come back to me. I want my clown back, my mess and the goofy child that makes me laugh.” He smiled in amusement und bit his lip. “And the suit?” She ran her fingers over his shirt and cocked her head. "You are welcome to keep it." He chuckled again and then shrugged. "I don't know, I don't want people to think I'm just an idiot and can't be a gentleman." She lowered her hands and looked at him with wide eyes. "So that's what it's about? You did it for me?" The only answer she got was a smile from him. “Okay wow, are you kidding me? I never said I wanted a gentleman or anything like that.” “But you doubted that I could be one.” “No I didn’t!” He cocked an eyebrow again and she sighed. “Okay maybe I did. I’m sorry….can you forgive me?” She asked him with a small smile on her lips. He hesitated for a second, took another sip of his water and shrugged “I’ll think about it.” Y/n gasped loudly when he went to the bedroom. She instantly followed him and slapped his shoulder “You’re a jerk.” “You’re a jerk.” He mimicked her with a high pitched voice and grabbed her wrists. He didn’t answer her, instead he smashed his lips on hers. She freed herself from his grip and wrapped her arms around him so that she could pull him closer. His hands landed on the buttons of his shirt to open it but she stopped him and shook her head “Don’t you dare take that off." "At some point I have to take this thing off, otherwise my girlfriend will complain again that I smell." “I’ll risk it. How about you help me out of this one." She turned her back to him so that he could open the zipper. However, he pulled her flush against him and put his lips to the back of her neck where he kissed the skin carefully. She could feel him take a deep breath and blow on her skin, making a fart sound again. She started laughing loudly, took off her dress and turned back to him. She gave him a push so that he landed on the bed with his back. She sat on top of him and pressed his hands over his head into the mattress. She kissed him passionately, her tongue slid into his mouth before she gently bit his lip. He groaned softly as she moved her hips and could feel him slowly but surely getting hard. She loosened the tie around his neck and opened the first two buttons on his shirt so that she could see his collarbone. She grinned and kissed the skin as she slid his hands along his body. Her hands reached his pants where she hastily opened the belt and pulled the zipper down. He grinned and bit his lip „Bit eager, aren’t we?” “Shut up, I didn’t get the chance to blow you at the party so let me have it now.” He laughed briefly but his laugh stopped as soon as he felt her warm lips around his cock. He decided to thank Yunho for getting him the suit.

#ateez #mingi #oneshot #smutty #x reader #fanfiction

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