#that dream is no longer in the cards. but i still think about that cafe. and i bake for others whenever i can :’) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemurlegs · 7 months ago

Text

Bewitched

Hello everybody I'm finally back with a new chapter, I'm sorry it took so long, I had difficulty writing it, and i was a bit busy too. Anyways this chapter is longer. It explores a lot of things Ginger has done in her past, and we're gonna learn about the powers we possess.

Wordcount: 8.6k

Warning: murder, ritualistic sacrifice, cannibalism

Previous chapter

Chapter 5.

Dreams and powers

Alastors pov

After a whole day of dealing with his wayward contracts, while his body didn't show it, he felt exhausted. He was ready to head back to the hotel and relax near his bayou.

As soon as he manifested in the living room, he caught sight of everyone sitting in a circle on the floor. Charlie immediately jumped up and greeted him, asking if he wanted to join their group activities.

Alastor wanted to refuse; he was tired and rarely felt the need to join in the silly exercises Charlie hosted. But before he could finish his sentence, she cut him off, explaining that they were sharing stories about their pasts and it was currently Ginger's turn. More information? How convenient.

He walked towards the group and settled on the couch next to them. No way in hell would the Radio Demon sit on the floor like some common sinner, he had a reputation to uphold. As he crossed his legs and got comfortable, after that he told Ginger to continue.

She started explaining that she had no idea why she ended up in Hell.

Alastor was confused, tilting his head at her comment. At the cafe that morning, she had mentioned using her womanly charm to manipulate men and hinted that she sometimes killed those she deemed worthy. To him, that seemed like a pretty obvious reason to be sent down here.

Charlie asked her to clarify.

"I mean that I don't think I'm innocent or something; I just don't know which of my sins got me here.” she shrugged. Answering nonchalantly.

At that, Angel Dust suggested she list her sins to figure out which one got her sent to Hell. Alastor was ecstatic; maybe her sins would explain her strange magical knowledge, and he might even learn what happened to her the day before, when she got attacked.

But as soon as he got his hopes up, Ginger quickly dismissed the idea. However, her response only made him more curious. A list of sins so long it would take hours to go over? Hoho, don't threaten him with a good time.

That's when Alastor realized something. If she truly had committed so much evil, how did she manage it in such a short time? Not that he would ask a woman her age, of course—that would be ill-mannered—but she didn't look more than 27, but of course looks can be deceiving.

As he snapped out of his thoughts, he realized they had moved on to another topic. Charlie suggested that everyone name three things they were good at or enjoyed doing.

Angel's response made him grimace with disgust. The perverted spider always has a way of dampening his mood. He was listening to the group name their likes and talents, seemingly bored by how uninteresting they were. That's when he saw Ginger get excited about Husker's response.

“Magic, you say? What kind of magic?” her eyes were shimmering hopefully with a hint of excitement as she leaned towards the barcat.

Her happiness was short-lived when Husk clarified he was talking about card tricks.

Hmm, so she is indeed interested in magic. Maybe she's a practitioner. Or she could just be curious because of her attackers, since they clearly used magic on her. But how could she get herself in a situation like that on her first day? I mean, he knew this was hell but still. Maybe she knew her perpetrators? He shook off that though for now. Instead he began wondering about what kind of demon powers she might have and thought of ways to make her use them. That is, if she even knows she has them. Hmm, he hadn't considered that.

But Alastor didn’t have time to dwell on the topic any longer since it was now Ginger’s turn to share.

“Okay. Well, let’s see. I really like history, particularly the 1920s. I enjoy reading and I like singing.

Particularly the 1920s? My, my, isn’t that interesting—a sinner as young as her interested in history, especially a time when he was alive? That's a rare sight.

After she finished, it was his turn. As he explained his love for jazz and cooking, as well as torturing souls, everyone fell silent at that of course, he sure loved getting a reaction from the crowd. Charlie quickly tried to salvage the situation and decided to call it a night.

Before they could leave, Ginger reminded everyone that Alastor hadn't answered the first question. Everyone was shocked by her boldness, even Alastor. He couldn't decide if it was boldness or foolishness.

To ask such a thing from him, the feared overlord, the master tormentor, the Radio Demon—it took guts, he had to admit that. He decided to humor her forwardness.

"My, my, quite bold, are we?" he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Well, if you must know, I was a serial killer in the 1920s, cleaning the streets of New Orleans. I'm quite certain that's why I'm here." He said proudly.

As Alastor observed Ginger's serene smile and listened to her nonchalant acceptance of violence against the cruel and wicked, he felt an unfamiliar sensation stirring within him. It was a peculiar mix of intrigue, admiration, and something else—something he couldn't quite place.

The idea that someone shared his perspective on the nature of sin and punishment was undeniably intriguing to Alastor. Here stood someone who not only understood his worldview but embraced it. How exciting.

After this pleasant surprise, everyone left to retire for the night. Ginger walked to the kitchen for a quick dinner. This was the perfect opportunity to set his plan to discover her powers in motion. He used his shadow magic to warp behind her, ready to spook her, when she greeted him without even looking.

How in the ever-loving hell did she know he was there?—he thought. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer to her, looking down at the fox demon who is so full of secrets.

When he asked, she gave an unsatisfactory response: a lucky guess. He almost rolled his eyes at that. Right, like he would believe that. He'd find out soon enough.

Alastor then began his plan. First step: getting her out of the hotel. That should be easy enough. He owned her, after all; she needed to listen to him.

“I need you to pick up some fresh cuts of meat from the butcher for me tomorrow. I'll write down the address for you.”

He conjured a notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the location, when she gave him a skeptical response and questioned his intentions. This made him a little annoyed. Who was she to question him? She had no right. He owned her.

He reminded her that her curiosity would get her in trouble if she kept asking more questions. She responded with sass. Oh, that’s it. He had been nice, but she needed to be taught a lesson. After all, he was the one in charge here—she needed to learn some respect.

Alastor threatened her, turning into his more demonic form, getting up in her face and telling her it was best if she did what she was told.

And to that, she didn't even flinch, as if she wasn't standing in front of a terrifying, cruel overlord. Giving a nonchalant response, she agreed, but it left him confused as to why she didn't react. Most demons would be cowering away in fear by now.

He wrote down the location and left her. He needed to think about the next steps of his plan. Once in his room, he lit the fireplace and sank down in his chair.

Step one was completed; now it was time for phase two. Once she went to pick up the meat as he asked, he planned to send one of his rowdy souls after her. He'd send those souls who had tested his patience, a lesson long overdue, he thought. And if she tore them apart? Well, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he hoped she did.

"Oh, how I wonder what kind of powers she has," he thought out loud.

As Alastor's thoughts drifted towards Ginger's potential powers, he couldn't help but imagine the myriad ways they could be utilized to his advantage. Each possibility sparked a new wave of excitement, fueling his curiosity and ambition.

He envisioned Ginger wielding elemental magic, conjuring flames to engulf their enemies or summoning storms to wreak havoc upon their foes. With such power at his disposal, he could easily dominate the battlefield, using the forces of nature to bend his enemies to his will.

Or perhaps Ginger possessed the ability to manipulate minds, weaving illusions to deceive their adversaries or bending their thoughts to her whim. With such a power, she could infiltrate the minds of anybody.

Alastor's mind raced with possibilities, each scenario more tantalizing than the last. As he contemplated the many ways Ginger's powers could benefit him, Alastor's ambition burned brighter than ever before. With her by his side, he could ascend to even greater heights of power and influence, his name echoing throughout the halls of Hell as a force to be reckoned with. But first, he needed to uncover the truth about Ginger's abilities, and he was determined to do whatever it took to unlock her secrets.

After about some time he decided to check up on her room.

Maybe he could reveal something about her. After all, a person's room often tells a lot about them. He rose from his seat, left his room, and began approaching Ginger's room.

As Alastor strode through the dimly lit corridors of the hotel, his shadow danced eagerly along the walls, its form undulating and twisting with an otherworldly grace. It moved in tandem with Alastor's every step, a silent companion that mirrored his movements with uncanny precision.

As they approached Ginger's room, the shadow seemed to pulse with anticipation, its movements quickening with an eager anticipation. It hovered near the door, casting a dark silhouette against the wood as if eager to delve into the mysteries that lay beyond.

Alastor's voice echoed softly in the corridor, his words punctuated by a faint chuckle that reverberated through the air. As he spoke, his shadow danced eagerly beside him, its movements fluid and graceful.

"She's very interesting, isn't she?" Alastor mused aloud, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "So full of secrets, and the longer I observe, the more questions appear."

His shadow seemed to sway in agreement, its form pulsating with a silent energy as if echoing Alastor's sentiments.

Together, they stood outside Ginger's room, the anticipation palpable in the air as Alastor prepared to delve into the mysteries that laid beyond.

Holding his ear up to the door, he listened for any signs that might indicate she was still awake. Upon hearing light snoring, his smile widened. He began fading away into the shadows. Now in his dark incorporeal state, he reached under the doorway, trying to slide into the room. But as soon as he began slipping in, some sort of strong force ejected him. It was as if the very fabric of the magic repelled his intrusion, rejecting his shadowy essence with a forceful expulsion.

Thrown back against the opposite wall, Alastor's incorporeal form recoiled from the impact, momentarily stunned by the unexpected counterattack. Undeterred by the initial setback, Alastor attempted to regather his composure and make another attempt. Yet with each subsequent effort, the resistance only grew stronger, the strange magic proving to be a formidable obstacle to his shadowy form's entry. What the hell did she do to block HIS magic?

He started reforming into his physical form, clenching his fists in frustration. Stepping up to the door, he hovered his hand over it. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus, to see if he could feel anything magical. Surely enough, he began sensing a very strong locking seal on the entrance.

Opening his eyes, he began trying to reveal it. Maybe if he recognized the sigil, he could find a way to break it. The hand that was hovering over the door began to glow a soft green. Lifting his hand, he started moving it all around the wood, hoping to find the sigil's location.

As his hand reached the top of the door, a violet-colored glowing sigil revealed itself. So it was one hundred percent confirmed: Ginger was indeed someone who knew her way around magic. Judging by the fact that he couldn't recognize the marking, the lock kept him from entering, and the magic seal felt powerful. He knew she wasn't just some small fry witch—oh no, she was very strong. After all, keeping the Radio Demon out from anywhere was certainly an accomplishment.

As Alastor scrutinized the violet-colored sigil, he felt a palpable sense of power emanating from it. It wasn't just a simple ward; it was a formidable barrier, intricately woven with layers of protective magic. Each line and curve of the sigil seemed to pulse with energy, repelling any attempt to breach its defenses.

As he attempted to unravel the sigil's enchantments, he encountered resistance at every turn. It was as if the magic itself resisted his intrusion, pushing back against his efforts with a stubborn resilience. No matter how he tried to manipulate it, the sigil held firm, its protective barrier unyielding.

Frustration simmered beneath Alastor's calm exterior as he grappled with the realization that he was facing a foe of considerable power. The locking magic was not just keeping him out of the room; it was actively thwarting his attempts to understand it, a testament to Ginger's formidable abilities. With a sigh, Alastor withdrew his hand, acknowledging defeat for the time being.

As he turned away from the door, his mind raced with possibilities. What other secrets lay hidden within Ginger's room, and what could they reveal about her true nature? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: Ginger was not to be underestimated.

He started feeling glad he didn't eat her when he found her. But it made him wonder.

What else could she do?

Ginger's pov

As you slip into an unconscious state, it's as if you're descending into a soft, ethereal mist, cocooning you in its gentle embrace. Weightlessness overtakes your body, as if gravity has released its hold on your body. With each passing moment, your senses become hyper-aware, amplifying every sound, touch, and scent, pulling you deeper into the enchanting realm of dreams.

Once you fall completely asleep you find yourself surrounded by an ocean of blackness. As you swim through the boundless void, your mind clears like the dissipating mist, allowing you to focus with newfound clarity.

With a whispered command of your imagination, the shapeless expanse begins to ripple and shimmer, as if responding to your words.

Slowly at first, tendrils of color emerge, painting delicate hues upon the empty canvas. Shades of emerald green intertwine with the deepest ebony, weaving a tapestry of shadows and light. The void trembles with anticipation, eager to take form under the spell of your creative will.

As your focus on the image you're trying to create the transformation quickens, and before your eyes, the formless void begins to coalesce into solid substance. Trees materialize from the darkness, their gnarled branches reaching skyward like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets of the forest.

Leaves unfurl in a symphony of verdant whispers, and the earth beneath your feet takes shape, soft and yielding to your touch. The air thrums with the pulse of life, carrying the scent of moss and damp earth on its invisible currents.

With a final surge of energy, the metamorphosis is complete—a dense, dark forest now stretches as far as the eye can see, its canopy of foliage obscuring the starry sky above.

Stepping onto solid ground, you feel the damp earth beneath your feet, and the cool breeze blowing through your ginger hair. Your senses are immediately drawn to a soft, white glow hovering just ahead. The orb emits a gentle luminescence, casting flickering shadows upon the towering trees surrounding you. The orb floats effortlessly ahead of you, leading you deeper into the heart of the forest. As you follow its gentle guidance, the dense foliage begins to thin, revealing a clearing bathed in the silvery light of the full moon.

At the center of the clearing, you pause, mesmerized by the celestial beauty above. And as you gaze upon the luminous orb hovering before you, a presence begins to materialize—the figure of the Goddess emerges from the ethereal glow, her presence commanding the space around her. She is adorned with long, flowing black hair that cascades around her like wispy shadowy tendrils, moving with an otherworldly grace.

Upon her forehead, a shimmering moon sigil gleams with an ancient power, marking her as a divine being of lunar origin. Her long flowy dress, a radiant silver hue, seems to shimmer and glow, its incorporeal form appearing almost ghostly against the backdrop of the night.

She floats effortlessly above the forest floor, her gaze fixed upon you with eyes that are completely white, devoid of iris or pupils.

Surrounding her is a dark aura, vast and impenetrable, swirling with an intensity that speaks of depths unknown. She is the embodiment of darkness itself, not in its malevolent sense, but as its keeper.

She is Mona, the Moon Goddess.

When she fully manifests before you, you bow to the powerful Goddess. As you raise your head, she extends her hand, and you watch in awe as it transforms. At first, it is an indistinct shadow, a mere silhouette in the dim light. Slowly, it begins to change, like smoke swirling and condensing into a solid form. The edges of the shadow blur and ripple, then start to coalesce, becoming more defined. Dark wisps of energy dance and weave together, gradually shaping into the delicate contours of a hand. The hand becomes fully corporeal, rich with the detail of veins, knuckles, and the soft, warm skin of a living being.

She cups your cheek, and you lean into her touch, feeling the comforting dark energy seep into your very being. Calm washes over you, and your worries slip away under her warm, motherly touch.

She withdraws her hand and begins to speak, her voice resonating through the dark forest.

“What brings you here, my child?”

“I seek your guidance, Mother. I have descended into your realm, Hell. I’m trapped in a situation I cannot escape without your help. The coven of the Sun God, your brother’s worshippers, are here. They have cursed me, condemned my soul to rot away within a year. Please, Goddess, tell me you can help.”

You remove your clothes to reveal the sigil to the Goddess. She steps closer and with a delicate touch of her fingertips, tracing around the scar, she examines the curse. Her expression grows sorrowful as she reveals her answer.

“I’m sorry, my child, but the only one who's able to undo the spell is the one who casted, either by their own volition or by death.”

You felt your heart sink. Your coven, they would never forgive you, they have too much hate for you. And killing them? Well easier said than done, there's a lot of members and they are a lot more powerful than you are, especially together. It was hopeless.

“No, no, no!” You groan in frustration, the tension gripping you like a vise. With a heavy heart, you bury your face in your hands, fingers digging into your scalp as if trying to alleviate the weight of your despair. Each breath feels labored, each moment filled with a sense of hopeless anguish that threatens to consume you whole.

It was all over, you're going to die in a year and there's nothing you can do.

You feel a warm hand touch your shoulder, sending a calming energy through your spine. You sigh, gradually calming down from the Goddesses comforting touch. That's when you realize you are still in danger, the coven can still find you and drag you back to the torture cell. Not to mention not wanting to involve the hotel in this mess, that would surely end horribly.

You lift your head to look at Mona, a small empathetic smile on her face as she looks at you. You wipe off the tears that you just realized were rolling down your cheek. With a few sniffles and shaky breaths you finally gain back some composure.

“There is another matter you might be able to help me with, Mother. I want to learn about my demon powers and how to use them. If the coven returns and tries to hurt me again, I need to be prepared. Could you please show me how to harness my powers?”

With a warm, reassuring smile, Mona extends her hand. As she does, shadowy tendrils emerge from her fingertips, weaving through the forest like hungry serpents. They consume the surroundings, devouring the familiar landscape until all that remains is a dark void. In this abyss, the only source of illumination is the faint, ethereal glow emanating from the Goddess herself.

“Let's begin," says the Goddess.

"To discover your powers, you must delve deep within yourself, exploring the darkest corners of your past. Take a deep breath and reflect, recalling your most grievous transgressions."

You inhale deeply, centering yourself, and begin to sift through your memories, navigating the murky depths of your past misdeeds.

As you focus on a particular memory, your surroundings shift. You and the Goddess materialize within the memory itself, witnessing your past unfold like scenes from a movie.

It's a memory of the first person you killed after massacring your coven. You wanted to steal his money since you were low on cash. The tavern you've been working in as a barmaid barely made you enough to get by. He was sitting at one of the tables close to the bar, already heavily inebriated. He was taller than you, but not by a lot, he was also a smaller skinnier build. Not a very attractive fella. He was known to be a drunkard, hitting on the barmaids, touching them inappropriately. He was the perfect target.

Approaching him with measured steps, you wear a practiced seductive smile, your eyes gleaming with calculated allure. As you settle onto his lap, you can feel the weight of his gaze, clouded by intoxication, lingering on your form as the smell of sweat and ale filling your senses.

Leaning in close, you weave a tapestry of lies with your words, each syllable dripping with honeyed deceit. You stroke his ego, praising his strength and attractiveness, while subtly steering the conversation to your advantage.

With every whispered compliment, you draw him deeper into your web of deception, until he's putty in your hands, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath your facade.

After a few more drinks and a skillful exchange of words, you deftly pilfer the man's pouch without him even noticing, slipping away from the table with your prize in hand. Leaving the drunken mess of a man to his own devices, you disappear into the shadows of the tavern.

Days later, a group of men emerged from the doorway, stomping in angrily into the tavern. You recognized one of the men as the one you stole from a few nights ago.

They approached you, shouting a growling demanding you give the guys money back. You try to calmly explain that you don't have the money. You tell them that you're poor and you work because your husband can't. You explained how you stole the money to buy medicine for him. They seem to ignore your words, throwing insults and threats your way. That's when the owner shows up and demands that they leave his tavern.

With a few more insults and profanities exchanged, the men left. After your shift finishes and you begin walking home, immediately feeling uneasy. Your intuition tells you to beware. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of the men trailing behind, their menacing silhouettes growing ever closer. The men from the tavern hot on your feet as you speed up, eventually turning to a full sprint. Ducking into a narrow alleyway, you press yourself against the cold stone wall, breath coming in ragged gasps as you watch the men scour the area, their shadows looming ominously in the flickering lamplight.

One with a mustache comes close to your hiding spot. He's a lot bigger than the fella you robbed, he could easily overpower you. Sensing the need for a distraction, you whisper a barely audible incantation. A sudden loud bang reverberates from the other side of the street. Startled, the men pivot towards the noise, their attention diverted as they rush to investigate.

You have the chance to make your escape, but something mischievous starts bubbling within you. How much fun it would be to mess with them. You quietly run behind a tree, you begin slowly climbing it. From your elevated vantage point, you weave another spell, projecting your voice to the spot where you were originally concealed.

The men, drawn by the illusion, scramble to the empty hiding spot, their frustration evident as they find nothing. Delighting in the chaos you've created, you repeat the process, sending them on a wild goose chase around the alleyways. At some point your cheeks start hurting from smiling, trying very hard to keep the laughter escaping from your throat.

But soon, your amusement wanes, and you decide it's time to make your escape. With a final diversionary spell, you project the sound of running footsteps in the opposite direction, leading the men away as you slip quietly from your perch. As they give chase to the phantom sound, you descend from the tree, straightening your dress with a composed air, ready to disappear into the night.

As you descend from the tree, you're startled to find yourself face to face with the man you robbed days ago.

“She's here!! The thief is— UGHH” instinct takes over and you swiftly plunge your pocket knife you always keep with you into his stomach.

He collapses, gasping for air, clutching his wound in agony. Despite the rush of power coursing through you, there's no time to revel in it. With a menacing smile, you turn to flee, but the approaching footsteps of the men from before hasten your departure.

As you sprint through the streets, desperation sets in, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your legs burning with exertion. With the men hot on your trail, you realize you can't outrun them for much longer. Frantically scanning your surroundings, your eyes alight on a nearby house with a clothesline adorned with drying garments.

Without hesitation, you dash towards it, ripping the men's clothing from the line and hastily donning the disguise. A hat pulled low over your brow completes the transformation, obscuring your features as you blend into the shadows of the night, evading capture once more.

“Hey, boy, have you seen a woman running this way?"

The largest man pants, desperation evident in his voice. Without a word, you gesture in the opposite direction of your intended escape. They nod in gratitude, their footsteps quickening as they follow your false lead.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you hurry home, hastily packing your belongings as you prepare to leave the town behind. Before stepping out into the streets, you take a small knife and make a precise, deliberate cut across your palm, the pain sharp and immediate. Holding a deep bowl beneath your hand, you watch as the deep crimson blood drips steadily into it.

With your blood as the cornerstone of the ritual, you add rusty nails and rotten eggs, dried thorns and dead insects, a splash of vinegar, and a pinch of wormwood. These ingredients, potent and foul, amplify the dark energy of your spell.

Next, you write down the names of the men who pursued you, they were regulars so you have heard their names slip from their mouths. Placing the slips of paper into the bowl, each one soaking in the blood and other ingredients. The connection to your enemies is now tangible, their fate sealed within the mix.

Striking your flint and steel, you light the contents of the bowl. The flames flare up with an eerie glow, the blood sizzling and hissing as the hex activates. You watch intently as the fire consumes the mixture, the power of your blood magic sending waves of sickness and misfortune to the men who wronged you.

As the fire dies down to smoldering embers, you feel the energy of the hex solidify. With a final glance at the dying flames, you quickly duck out of your home, slipping into the night to begin your journey to another town, leaving the cursed remnants behind.

This was the first town you abandoned in such a manner. After three years of residing there, you depart due to a murder you committed, devoid of any remorse. It marks the beginning of a pattern, a cycle of fleeing from consequences that will repeat itself in towns to come.

With the memory dissipating like smoke, shadowy tendrils throwing you into another.

As you delve into the next memory, the scene unfolds before you with chilling clarity. You find yourself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of iron and decay. Your pulse quickens as you confront the man who dared to lay a hand on you.

It's 1886 and it's the first time you used your blood magic to kill someone. The man, Joseph, was someone you were fond of. You didn't exactly love him. No, the ability to love has been something you couldn't xperience anymore, and you'll be damned if you ever trust a man again.

Either way he was somewhat close to you, but he mistook that friendship as something more. He tried to court you, not taking no for an answer. Joseph tried to get you to agree to go on a date with him several times, eventually he grew tired of you declining him and tried to use force against you. You two were in your home having a few drinks when he tried to kiss you. Pulling away from him only resorted to him grabbing you angrily to shove his lips against yours. You managed to escape his grip and knock him out quickly, he was out cold immediately as you broke a bottle of wine over his head. So that's where you were now, in the basement, with his form sprawled out on the cold altar table, bound and unconscious.

It was the perfect time to try out a new ritual dedicated to the Huntress Goddess. You were trying to find a perfect victim after all, and of course not wanting to just kill any innocent rando, it was very convenient timing on his part really.

His face contorts in confusion as he begins to stir, awakening to find himself at your mercy.

As you stand before the bound man, his chest exposed on the altar, a tense silence fills the dimly lit basement. You can feel the weight of his gaze upon you, a mixture of fear and confusion flickering in his eyes. With a steady hand, you reach for your tools, the implements of your craft gleaming in the faint light.

“Why are you doing this?" he demands, his voice tinged with desperation. "What do you want from me?"

You pause, regarding him with a cool detached look. "What I want is of no consequence to you now," you reply, your voice low and steady. "You have trespassed against me, and now you must face the consequences."

His eyes widen in realization, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with fear. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was a mistake, I swear. We can fix this, go back to being friends." Joseph was begging like a pathetic puppy. Disgusting, he thought he could just have you, but what else did you expect from a man? They take what they don't own without hesitation or remorse. You are ready to make him pay for his actions.

You remain unmoved, your resolve unshakeable. "Words mean nothing now," you say, your tone devoid of emotion. Taking the sharp blade out of its sheet, a beautiful knife, with the handle made out of a deer antler, intricate symbols carved on it. "Actions have consequences, and yours have led you here.” you point the knife to his chest, you see his breath quicken, eyes widening, expression turning into that of a cornered animal.

As you begin the ritual, his protests grow more frantic, his struggles against his bonds growing increasingly desperate, but you pay him no mind. Attaching the deer antlers to your victim, tying them to his head securely. You dedicated this animal, your perfect prey, to Fenja, the Huntress Goddess. Your focus is unwavering as you channel the dark energies swirling within you.

By offering this man's life to the Goddess, you will be granted protection from all dangers for an entire year. She will shield you from harm and guide you on the right path.

As the ritual reaches its climax, you draw upon the man's life force, draining his blood from his wrists with a steady hand. The crimson liquid flows into the deep bowl beneath him, pooling with dark intent as you prepare to channel its power.

With practiced precision, you carve intricate sigils into his chest, dedicated to the hunt, each stroke imbued with the ancient symbols of your craft. The man's skin yields to your touch, the marks etched into his flesh like a twisted tapestry of agony and despair.

With that you pick up your spell book, whispering incantations in an ancient language, praying to Fenja to grant you protection and to humbly accept the offering in trade. With the last words leaving your lips you hover over the man's sprawled out body. He's barely conscious because of the blood loss. With a savage determination, you reach for the sacrificial dagger at your side, its blade glinting in the dim light.

With a swift and merciless stroke, you plunge the deer bone dagger into the man's chest, tearing through muscle and sinew until you reach the prize you seek: his still-beating heart. With a triumphant cry, you wrench the heart from his chest, holding it aloft with a savage hunger in your eyes.

And then, without hesitation, you sink your teeth into the pulsing organ, tearing into its flesh with a primal ferocity. The taste of blood fills your mouth, a heady mixture of triumph and power coursing through your veins as you consume the man's essence.

Your body quivers as a surge of power courses through you, each fiber vibrating with the intensity of the Huntress's magic. Your eyes alight with a mesmerizing hue of deep purple, as if infused with the very essence of the hunt.

The spell had worked, making that year incredibly peaceful. No one tried to expose you as a magic practitioner, you robbed and tricked people effortlessly, and you remained free from sickness and disease. It was perfect. The only downside was a little cannibalism, but with such a great payoff, why not? This ritual was just a modified version of what you did in the coven, where you used a raw deer heart instead of a human one. Somehow, the heart of this man gave you much more power than the deer’s. After that, you repeated the spell yearly.

As the memory begins to fade, reminders of past actions flicker into view, but before you can dwell on them for long, you're swiftly pulled into another memory, whisked away from the haunting echoes of the past.

As 1922 unfolded in New York, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The roaring twenties were your favorite decade, even with the tragic things that happened, now you were witnessing its glorious resurgence. With anticipation bubbling inside you, you eagerly embraced the era's vibrancy and allure. It was time to relive the golden days of the twenties once again.

You were sitting on a barstool of your favorite speakeasy, sipping on bootleg hooch and whisky imported from England. The Blind Tiger was owned by a man who was famous all over New York. Marco Moretti, a notorious bootlegger, a cruel criminal who held the coppers in the palm of his hands, and insanely rich.

The velvety warmth of fine whisky caressed your throat, igniting a familiar thrill as you took another sip. A symphony of smoke and spirits swirled around you, mingling with the lively jazz melodies that pulsed through the air. Your finger traced the rhythm of the music on the table, echoing the fast-paced tempo. Amidst the sea of elegant suits and dazzling dresses, joyous laughter and spirited dancing filled the room, painting a vibrant tableau of revelry and indulgence. Ah what a time to be alive.

With a cigarette poised between your lips, you fished out your lighter from your bag, anticipating the comforting glow of a flame. However, despite your best efforts, the stubborn lighter remained unyielding, failing to spark. Frustration increases as you click it repeatedly.

*flick*

"Ugh, God damn it," you muttered, cursing the heavens for denying you the simple pleasure of a nicotine fix. Disheartened, you slumped forward, resting your head on the worn bar table. Suddenly, the faint sound of another flick and the crackle of fire caught your attention.

Raising your head, you leaned into the offered flame, finally igniting your cigarette. As a wave of calmness washed over you with each inhale, you glanced up to thank the gentleman responsible, only to realize you were face to face with an actual mobster, none other than Marco Moretti, the owner of the speakeasy.

“Thank you kindly, sir” you look at him and my my he was handsome too.

“Of course Bella, it's my pleasure” he said, offering you a sweet smile.

As the night went on, you found yourself talking and laughing with him, the smoky haze of the speakeasy wrapping around you like a veil. Marco was more than just a notorious figure; he was magnetic, captivating, and before you knew it, you were drawn into his world.

You were good at deception and trickery, at least that's what you thought until you met him. But he was like a mastermind, always ten steps ahead, fooling everyone effortlessly. As you two got closer, Marco introduced you to the inner workings of his empire, teaching you the art of discretion and the finesse of manipulation. You became his confidant, his right hand, his partner in crime, and soon, the two of you were running New York together.

Horse races at Belmont Park became your playground. You and Marco would arrive in style, decked out in the finest attire. The crowds would part as you walked through, a power couple exuding confidence and control. You placed bets with an air of nonchalance, always seeming to know the right horse to back, thanks to the inside information Marco had at his disposal.

Nights were a spectacle of luxury and excess. Lavish balls hosted in grand mansions became the norm, where the city's elite mingled with the criminal elite under a veneer of propriety. You danced under crystal chandeliers, the jazz music lively as alway. Every event was an opportunity to forge alliances and reinforce your status.

But it wasn't just the glamor that defined your days. You were involved in the meticulous planning of heists and the orchestration of elaborate bootlegging operations. You learned how to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld, gaining a reputation for your cunning and ruthlessness. Together, you bribed officials, outsmarted rivals, and expanded your influence, making the Moretti name synonymous with both fear and respect all around the country.

One night, after a particularly successful operation that involved smuggling a massive shipment of whisky through the city's sewers, you and Marco stood on the rooftop of the Waldorf Astoria, looking out over the glittering skyline of New York.

Marco turned to you, his expression serious. "We've come a long way, Bella. This city is ours for the taking, but we have to stay sharp. The higher we climb, the further we have to fall.”

He pulled you close to his chest, kissed the top of your head. Your relationship with him was complicated. You two were necessarily a couple, but it wasn't friendship either. It was a weird in-between thing you two had, since both of you knew that being together would do more harm than good.

But you loved each other, maybe not in the romantic sense, but you cared for him deeply and he cared for you two. It felt like nothing could stop the two of you. That is until one fateful night tragedy struck.

It started as a routine operation, a delivery of bootleg whisky to a new speakeasy on the Lower East Side. You and Marco were confident, your plan meticulously crafted. But as you navigated the narrow alleyways, a trap was sprung. Rival gang members ambushed you. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks of pistols echoing off the brick walls.

Marco and you fought back fiercely, but you were outnumbered. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—this wasn't just a skirmish; it was an execution.

“Get out of here, Bella!" Marco shouted, shoving you towards a narrow escape route between two buildings. "I'll hold them off!”

“Are you insane Marco, this is suicide!” you protested, your heart pounding with fear and anger.

“Go!" he commanded, his eyes fierce and determined.

Tears stung your eyes as you hesitated, but the gravity of the situation forced you to comply. With one last, anguished look at Marco, you fled, the sounds of gunfire and shouts fading as you ran.

You found refuge in an abandoned warehouse, heart heavy with dread. Minutes felt like hours as you waited, hoping against hope that Marco would emerge from the shadows, unscathed. But deep down, you knew the truth. He was gone.

The grief and rage from Marco’s death propelled you back to the Moretti mansion with a fierce determination to regroup and plan your next move. However, as you approached, the eerie silence and the flickering lights filled you with a foreboding sense of dread. The usually bustling estate was ominously quiet.

You stepped inside, and the scene that greeted you was nothing short of a nightmare. Bodies of Marco’s loyal men and women lay scattered, their lives brutally snuffed out. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and your heart sank as you realized that the rival gang had struck again, this time with a devastating blow.

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed you from behind, yanking you into the main hall where the leader of the rival gang, a menacing figure named Vito Rossi, stood smirking. His henchmen surrounded you, their faces twisted with malicious glee.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Vito sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “The infamous queen of the Moretti empire. Too bad your reign ends tonight.”

They tied you to a chair, and Vito leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid against your face. “We’ve taken everything—your money, your power, your family. Now, we’ll take your life.”

Stupid fools, they should have known better than to mess with you. And what they did to the Moretti family, the closest people you deemed family in a long while. People who took you in, accepted your wickedness, welcomed it and loved you for who you are. And they butchered them. Now they think they are going to kill you too? I don't think so.

Your heart pounded with fury, but on the outside you remained calm, closing your eyes you focused on the incantation.

“Blood be still, body freeze, halt their will, bring them to their knees.”

The words rolled off your tongue in a whisper, and a sudden chill filled the room. Vito paused, confusion flickering across his face as the room filled with dread, the feeling of dark magic surrounding them. His men looked around uneasily, their bravado wavering

“What the hell is—” Vito’s question was cut off as his blood began to freeze in his veins. One by one, the gang members’ eyes widened in terror, their bodies locking into place as the spell took hold.

With a flick of your fingers, the ropes binding you to the chair snapped, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You stood, your expression cold and resolute, and walked over to Vito, who was now immobilized, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and disbelief.

“You underestimated me,” you said softly, your voice echoing in the silent room. “And now you’ll pay the price.”

With deliberate steps, you collected the bags of money they had stolen, securing them in a large satchel. The room remained deathly silent, save for the faint clicking of your heels on the tiled floor.

1928, you're sitting on a train, with bags full of cash and a broken life. Heading to New Orleans, changing your appearance, starting a new life. This wasn't the first time you've done this, so why does it hurt to leave?

Even with the pain of losing someone so important to you, you find yourself happy in a bittersweet way. With deep breath you're ready to create a new life for yourself once more.

The air is thick with the scent of smoke, mingling with the metallic tang of fear. Dark figures loom around a crackling bonfire, their distorted shapes dancing eerily in the flickering light. Voices rise in a cacophony of chants, their words twisted and distorted, sending shivers down your spine.

Amidst the chaos, a haunting sound cuts through the night air – the heart-wrenching cry of a child, its echoes reverberating through the darkness. You can feel the weight of despair pressing down on you as you strain to shut out the horrifying scene unfolding before you. Your breathing quickens, vision blurs as you drop to the floor. With your eyes trained on the ground, you pull on your ears, trying to ground yourself somehow as you relive the worst thing that happened to you.

Suddenly, there's a sickening gurgle, followed by a woman screaming, and then unsettling silence that hangs heavy in the air like a shroud. Your heart clenches as you realize the depth of the darkness that surrounds this memory, its tendrils reaching out to ensnare you in its grip. With a sense of dread, you shut your eyes tightly, trying to escape the haunting images that threaten to consume you whole.

That's when you feel a pair of hands grip you, yanking you from the deep dark memory. Tears are rolling down your cheeks, your heart rate slowing down as you realize that the Goddess pulled you out of the nightmare. Looking around you find yourself back in the void, Mona close to you, comforting you after the painful reminder of your past.

“It seems this is not something we're ready to look through. Moving through memories like this can be dangerous if we get too lost in them. They can pull you in, making you relive them forever. I needed to pull you out when you reacted in such a manner.”

You turn towards the Goddess, slowly coming back to your normal self, pushing down the thoughts of pain and suffering.

“Was it enough revisiting to know what kind of demon magic I have?” You ask tiredly, hoping that you don't have to jump to another memory again.

“Yes, it will be enough”replied the Goddess.

“So, what kind of magic do I possess?“

“What is it that you've observed my child?” Asked the Goddess.

“I tricked them. I used my words, my magic, my womanly charms and my resourcefulness and fooled all of them. And once I was done, I changed my appearance and my name and moved away, just to do it all over again. Those who deserved my help, I protected fiercely and those who crossed me paid the price.”

“And what kind of power would you possess if this is what you did in life”

“Trickery?” You ask.

The Goddess Mona, with her ethereal glow and an air of timeless wisdom, smiles at your realization. "Indeed, trickery is your gift," she affirms, her voice a melodic whisper that reverberates through the obsidian walls of the training room. "The power of trickery is multifaceted and incredibly potent. Let me explain the abilities you can harness from it."

She raises her hand, and a cascade of shimmering shadows forms a delicate, intricate web in the air. The web is a mesmerizing tapestry, each thread pulsating with a different hue, weaving a vibrant display of color and shadow. The strands are as fine as spider silk, interlacing in complex patterns that shift and shimmer as they move.

"First, you have the ability of Illusions," she begins, her fingers dancing through the threads. "You can manipulate the senses of others, creating images and sounds that deceive and confuse. With practice, you can even craft entire landscapes, making your enemies question their reality."

A thread of silver light glows brighter, and she touches it gently. "Next is Shape-shifting. You have the power to alter your appearance at will, adopting new forms to blend in, evade capture, or mislead. This ability goes beyond mere disguise; you can mimic voices, mannerisms, and even the aura of those you emulate."

The web shifts, and a dark, almost invisible thread comes to the forefront. "Then there is Invisibility. By bending light and shadow, you can render yourself unseen. This can be momentary, a flicker to avoid detection, or sustained to move unseen through the world."

Mona's hand moves to a vibrant, glowing thread of pink. "You also possess Charm and Persuasion. This isn't just about speaking convincingly; you can infuse your words with magic, compelling others to see things your way, believe your lies, or even act against their own interests. With this, you can sway the minds and hearts of those around you."

Finally, she touches a deep crimson thread, pulsating with a dark energy. "And then there is Blood Bending. This is unusual but since you used your blood in your craft while you were alive it is not surprising that you possess this gift. This rare and formidable power allows you to manipulate the blood within living beings. You can control their movements, immobilize them, or even inflict pain. This ability is incredibly dangerous and must be wielded with the utmost caution. It gives you dominion over life itself, turning your enemies into mere puppets under your command."

Mona lets the web dissolve, its threads dissipating like mist. She steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "These are your gifts, the powers of trickery. They are tools for survival and conquest. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Use them wisely, my child."

“Thank you Goddess, I really appreciate your help” you bow to her in gratitude as the space shifts again, returning to the dark forest.

“I think it's time you returned to the real world now, child. You should practice your powers.”

Without much time to process her words, She snaps her finger and you're jolted awake from your bed.

Oh my, you're quite a powerful demon.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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newathens · 3 days ago

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hiiii hope ur doing alright I’m so sorry if this is too personal but I was wondering what u meant by “so many opportunities to be the person i always wanted to be are no longer at my disposal” ? I’m just entering my 20’s and idk what to watch out for, what to take advantage of and what to develop & invest time and energy into? Thank you so much & feel free to ignore this ofc hope u have a lovely year!

firstly I’d say im not the best person to ask because im just a nightmare negative nelly debbie downer no good fiend but mostly what i was referring to in that statement was my own personal mental illness situation. its very hard to describe but now that my brain i guess is “healthy” i look back at myself, probably from the ages of 16-24, and i realized that i wasn’t a person. i wasn’t operating with a healthy mind, i mean I’d say i wasn’t even operating with a mind. i was some strange zombie that would get up and go to class and then go to work and nothing else and i KNOW i say that now as a regular person who works but its different. it’s almost like i had no bodily autonomy in my own self. And i mean i DID things in college sure but if i had the mind that i have now back then, i think my life would currently look ten times different. And now i feel like there’s no way to fix it. At least, not a way that i can logically create. That statement is just specific to my situation

it’s hard to suggest things when everyone’s situation is so unique. ik you’re young and entering an even crazier world than i did ten years ago. honestly, my advice, is try a ton of new things, get away from your phone, listen to some of financial freedom gurus cause they have a point every now and then (roth ira, hysa, etc etc) but not always. if you’re in college, find internships & make connections. and if you feel you’re not good at socializing, work on it until you are. its so important, it’s the one thing i wish someone had told me. it’s so so important to have connections and be a networker and it sucks that that is the way the system is set up but go for it as much as you possibly can. um if you are mentally ill like me, go to therapy as soon as possible if your budget allows. and i don’t even mean in a “you have to heal your mental illness immediately & be ur best u” way. therapy just takes a lot of time and the sooner ur start the better. it’s nice to play the game of life with a fuller deck of cards. get rid of shame, haha teehee, im not kidding. and if you can’t just ignore the fact that its there even if it makes u want to hurl. and u can apply that to a lot really. going to the gym or starting a dance class or going to a cafe or eating alone. do u know when i was in college everybody was scared of eating alone and i wasn’t. granted i feel i am revolting and try to keep away from others so that’s why i had no trouble, but still. i could never understand why ppl were worried abt eating alone. focus on the fries! talk to ppl in your head! no shame! there’s no reason to have your life figured out, but im not going to say what other people say and tell you you have all the time in world. ignore the world for a second actually. figure out YOU and your interests and what YOU dream about and again try new things so you have a better understanding of YOU and then you can mold the world around you to better suit what you believe will give u the greatest joy & the best situation. because if you know you then all the choices become a lot less scary & half of them disappear altogether bc they become irrelevant! that’s all i can think of for now. im sorry if it doesn’t make sense.

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tragicromanceisland · 2 years ago

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Obey Me Dates- The Brothers

Imagining the types of dates the demon brothers take you on.

Some are shorter than the others, but I tried.

Lucifer- would out due his brothers on whatever date they took you on. Expect his date to be the most thrilling you ever had and trust him when he says that. He won't allow them to outshine him. He will be the only one you want to go on another date with. One took you to see an opera? Well, he will take you to a symphony. You went on a joyride and had ice cream? Expect a luxury car ride and luxury doesn't exclude speed. Not only are you having dessert you'll have dinner on the beach under the moon light. Your date ended with a kiss or a steamy make-out? You're staying in his room tonight he will pull out all the stops until you are fully seduced.

Mammon- Anything from card games, casino visits, car rides, parties, and the movies. Mammon will pull out all the stops but expect him to make a fool out of himself in the process of trying to impress you. Oi! Stop laughing! It ain't funny. Now his cheeks are full of color it could be because he just ate the floor or he is actually embarrassed. You knew it was both. Thing is Mammon didn't need to over do it to impress you. You liked him just the way he is and when you told him he was flustered. You were so kind and nice to him. He couldn't help but love you. Can he give ya a goodnight kiss? You kissed him first? D'aw you turned him into a schoolboy crazy about you. Not that he already wasn't whipped by you.

Leviathan- Please say yes, please say yes, Please.Say.YES! He was a bundle of nerves, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants. His thumbs sticking out as he couldn't even look in your eyes right now.

"It sounds like fun."

His eyes flit to yours and his eyes dilate.

"Huh?"

You give a coy smile. "I said yes."

His heart was going to burst. Is this real life did you actually accept going on a date with him? Oh he is so happy. Wait...or are you joking? Please don't tell him your joking it would crush him.

"Levi, when is the concert?"

Ok, you do mean it! He can feel tears at the corners of his eyes as he covers his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Two days from now! Thank you, thank you ______!!"

Before you say anything he ran off to his room. He didn't mean to leave you hanging like that but he was so happy he couldn't hold back his tears any longer and that would have been embarrassing if you saw.

The day of the date it goes way better than he could have ever imagined. You even took a picture of him with his idols!!! He passed out after that. He came too. He thought he was dreaming but it was real life. It really happened. At the end of the night, you gave him a kiss and his brain malfunctioned. Instead of saying good night he said thank you you too!! He kicked himself for saying it. Why did he say that?? He was going to die from embarrassment. He liked you so much he began telling Henry 2.0 all about his amazing date with you.

Satan - He was determined to expand your knowledge of the arts and knowledge in general. Of course, he wouldn't force it down your throat. Unless....? Nevermind. Now he is embarrassed though you aren't sure why. It starts as a coffee date and evolves into going to a museum and somehow you're at a pet shop across the street from the cafe after your compelling conversation about history and artifacts. You both continue conversation about animals and at the end of the night, you both find yourself at the Devildoms garden. Walking under the night sky you somehow change the subject to the stars. Satan explains of the legends about the stars of the Devildom. At the end of the night, Satan walks you back to your room. It's still in the house of lamentation as you both study the other. Satan had a wonderful time he would love nothing more than to kiss you. You must have been thinking the same as you both leaned into each other and Satan closed the distance. His lips firm against yours before breaking away. His cheeks burning, one kiss was not enough.

Asmodeus- Shopping and Spa dates as well as staying in and snuggling while watching horror movies were Asmo's thing. Of course, be aware every time you stayed in for a date it was inevitably going to lead to make-outs. He couldn't get enough of your soft lips or the taste of your flavored lip gloss. To say he was addicted was an understatement. Asmo would make sure you both were pampered even if you stayed at home. As much as he did those things with you he also invited you to the parties he was always invited too. These parties gave Asmo a bigger reason to dress you to his liking and often he would coordinate your colors to match. You were both often the talk of the party for fashion but also for your already-known reputation for making pacts with all seven demon lords.

Beelzebub - He asked you to come to his games and afterward he would treat you to dinner. Sometimes he invited you to new places he hadn't been and sometimes he would carry you around to various places and just talk and sometimes it was silent time just enjoying the view being beside you.

Beel also used the time he had to walk Cerberus as a way of spending time with you. He would invite you to work out with him, but...that more often than not, he ended with you distracting him and vice verse. Most of the time, it ended in a make-out. He would take you out for the best meals. Sometimes, even a picnic. He would try not to eat the food before he could share it with you. It would definitely end up with you feeding each other food and enjoying each other's company. Beel would love for you to rest your head on his lap as you fed him. He would also sneak in some kisses.

Belphegor - Stargazing to naps. Your dates with the twins happened to be some of the most peaceful. Belphie would take you to all the best spots to view stars. He would pack a picnic for you both. He had to make sure Beel didn't find out you were going on a picnic he would eat all the food. He would bring some demonus with him as well. While having a picnic you would feed him and he would feed you back sometimes he would nip at your fingers and your retalliation would be to lick his when he fed you. Of course, it made him hard, he had to keep himself in check for a little bit. However, you were quick to notice the bulge in his pants, and more often than not he fucked you under the starry night sky of the Devildom. Afterward, he held you close as he began to tell you a tragic tale of two lovers who were destined to be together yet, an envious man found out about the lovers, and because he adored the one he refused to allow the other man to take what should rightfully be his. Out of jealousy and rage, he killed the lovers. If he couldn't have the one no one could. He then explained how the lovers became entwined in the starry night sky to be together for eternity.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #lucifer obey me #obey me mammon #leviathan obey me #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #x reader #《🦋writes 》

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daddyjenzus · 2 years ago

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*Do I love her P2*

*Reality and Fiction*

The last few weeks I often asked myself which of what I see and feel is real and which is a lie I tell myself.

I think about Sunny very often. Every day, in almost every situation. I think about her when daydreaming. I think about her when moaning. I think about her when playing some games.

Lots of things remind me of her because of the memories connected to her. Rolling cigarettes, cleaning my room, driving, playing card games, choosing clothes to wear, going out. Even standing in my room in just underwear.

For most things it’s like a flash of the memory connected to it. Just for a second, everything around me changes to that moment. Sometimes longer, it feels almost like a dream then. I forget where I am for a bit, reliving that moment.

Then there’s situations where I can almost feel her presence.

There is a rubber band around my ashtray that sunny put there years ago. It’s still there and I play with it very often. I roll it up and down like an adhd child that plays with a fidget spinner and it feels like she is sitting next to me. There is a burn hole in my bed sheet that reminds me of her. Sometimes my mind plays me tricks and I see a hole in my sheets even when there isn’t one, just because I want it to be there. Because I want to be reminded.

Every time I see a skirt or overknees on someone, I see her wearing it instead.

When I am alone in my club, I think about her because I have memories of different occasions for every corner there is. It then often feels like we are counting money together.

My bed, aside from the hole in my sheet, is the worst anyways. I feel warm and cozy when I remember the countless times I could feel her next to me when we watched desperate housewives and I feel cold and alone when I realize she is not actually there with me. I remember the bad memories then, the ones where I felt bad about not being nice to her, when I rolled over to the other side to not look at her because I felt too bad. Also the ones where I was lying in bed alone and thinking of when I had done wrong to her. For every second in my bed, every day or night time, every moment, there is a memory of her. It’s exactly the same when I am in her bed only that the memories are good way more often.

To be blunt now, I think of Sunny when masturbating. I like looking at hot pictures that remind me of her. Remind me of the way she is standing, lying, putting her knees up. Her skirts, socks, legs, hands and some explicit stuff too but not that often.

I like watching videos that remind me of her. Videos of couples masturbating together, spooning, touching and teasing, rubbing dicks against vaginas. Honestly, it’s all very couple-y stuff and mostly romantic.

I touch myself in a way that feels like she is touching me, I close my eyes and think about her moaning.

I like smoking in bed after masturbating and caressing my chest when lying on my back. Or turning to the other side and cuddling with my plushy under the warmth of my blanket. But in a different way I than I would cuddle it otherwise. In a way that reminds me of her.

I wrote this paragraph after masturbating, so I won’t get carried away by horny thoughts. It worked, I could write it down clearly, but it was all the more scary realizing how much I think about her when I am horny. Maybe that is the reason why I get aroused every time I see her.

When I am daydreaming of better times, I think about Sunny too. I dream about moments I want to experience. I dream of table tennis, shows I want to watch, games I want to play and places I want to go. And I want to go there with her. I can see her there with me. Sitting on a mountain and looking down on the world. Drinking coffee in a cafe in a crowded street. Walking down the sidewalk of New York. In all those moments I dream about, she is there.

It’s daydreaming, so sometimes things I really want to do, sometimes just random thoughts putting pictures into my mind. It’s just that she is always there.

If I am not dreaming and not getting reminded but actually seeing her in front of me, my thoughts are similar. Sometimes when she did something i don’t like, maybe being overly feminist or telling me how bad my life is and that I am a piece of shit that has to do something, then she looks normal to me. Not ugly, but not pretty either. When she flirts with me, or we are having a good time together or when I miss her, she looks beautiful. No matter the clothes, makeup, hair or shower absence.

I suppose, that’s just normal human changes of perception linked to what I am feeling.

Then there is this uncontrollable urge to hug her or touch her, that she conditioned me on. Which mostly just feels funny because it’s like scratching a mosquito bite. It’s okay to not scratch but once you started, it’s hard to stop. And as mentioned earlier, for some weird reason I have never even remotely understood, I get horny when I see her. Sometimes just a tiny bit, sometimes more, sometimes a lot.

When I think about all of this, when I realize how much I want her to be with me, I always ask myself, why I don’t love her. On paper, I should. If I had no NPD, would I love her? Are my emotions too crippled to feel anything?

Or is it all just me lying at myself?

Which of those feelings and memories is wrong and which is true. Surely, not all of it is the distorted perception an NPD personality. And surely, not all of it is her manipulating me.

A lot of the daydream stuff is very safe for work and just us as friends living life together. And I had those thoughts since early in our friendship, just like the thought that we will both always find our way back to each other and when we are old we will still be single and get married to not be alone.

*18.01.23*

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heejojo · 3 years ago

Text

Mr Hollywood

summary: Sim Jaeyun had made it, he had finally fulfilled his dream of being an artist but he had to leave the place he called he called home promising he would come back when everything was okay. He’s back now but are you sure it’s the same Jake you once knew?

genre: fluff, minor angst, childhood lovers turned exes to lovers again

pairing: Celebrity Sim Jaeyun x non-celebrity reader (with enhypen and treasure appearances)

warning: none

word count: 4.1k

a/n: although it has been proofread, I cannot guarantee no errors so please let me know if you see any! please let me know what you think. likes and reblogs are appreciated and I hope you have a good day.

listen to the playlist here

send an ask or fill out this form to be part of the taglist!

taglist (open): @enhyphun @jungwoniics @penny-quinn @ncthpen @fylithia @taecup-ontrack @renee1414@studioreader

“And the Artist Of The Year Award goes to none other than...” the announcer said, keeping you all at the edge of your seats. Everyone here had voted for Jake so many times so that he would win. The announcer looked at the folded card in his hand before smiling and saying.

“Jake Sim!” The screams of everyone in the beer parlour with you watching the award ceremony were probably louder than those in the venue itself. You all watched in pride as the look of shock was evident on his face and he shakily walked to the podium to collect the award. You smiled at how good he looked, he had come so far from the boy you once knew here.

Five years ago, Jake had left his hometown, where he grew up for 18 years to pursue his dream. Granted, not everyone is supposed to stay for the rest of their lives but he thought he was going to stay but he made up his mind to leave for his passion. You all supported him even if you weren’t able to talk to him because of his busy schedule. Being able to cheer him from the sidelines was what you were content with. He was the pride of the town and people did not hesitate to show him off.

He gave the announcer a bow and collected the award. You could see the way his hands shook as he collected the award as if it felt unreal that he won.

“I would like to thank God for the ability to get to this point today and to thank my parents for always teaching me the right way and having the courage to let their child pursue his dreams even if it meant that I would be very far away; almost out of reach even. I love you. To all those that have continuously supported me and listened to my music, thank you. To the staff that have worked so hard and everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting, a big thank you to you" he said and walked off.

The excitement of the crowd reduced and everyone eventually retired to their homes while chatting amongst themselves. You think about the award one more time, feeling happy for him and move on. After all, the same way Sim has a life to live is the same way you do also.

The next day, when you wake up you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The birds are still chirping, yes but something feels unusual. You brush off the paranoia you feel and decide to do your usual morning duties and carry on with your day. While other people your age wanted to have prestigious jobs(not like there was anything wrong with that), you wanted something simple and had decided on being either a cafe owner or a florist.

Sadly, the cafe owner agenda wasn't able to work out because everyone in the vicinity was now aware of the way you burned down a cafe trying to bake and collectively decided that you should not be allowed to make food for people. Flowers were better than running a cafe shop. You stayed with your flowers and you were able to give

someone a flower when they needed it.

Need a flower for your mother? You got it, a daylily was exactly what they needed. Wanted to attend a funeral? Take a bouquet of lilies. It was easy to understand and you didn't directly put anyone in harm’s way. Although your shop was hardly ever full, you were content with everything.

That's why you're shocked when you find a line of people waiting to be let into your shop at 9 am. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but you opened the door nevertheless. At the end of the day, you were the one earning the money. You had things to buy, didn't you?

You take your place at the counter and start attending to the customers. They didn't tell you to pick out one for them and just chose it themselves. The crowd slowly reduced till there was only one person left. When there remained a few people, you quietly moved to one person to ask for the reason why they were so cheerful today.

"Jungwon, do you know why everyone is so happy today? My shop was full today!"

"Are you complaining about it?" He asks. Jungwon was the son of the cafe shop owner. He came to your shop frequently when he was on his break and you would talk to each other.

“Of course, I’m not. I just want to know what’s making everyone come here all of a sudden. Even old man Jay came here and you know that man never leaves his house. He bought a red carnation and I’m confused because who does he have affection for that he’s getting them flowers”

“He has a wife you know”

“Please, the last time they had a conversation with each other was when he asked for a divorce” you deadpanned.

“Look Y/N, who’s the one person in this town anyone would do anything for?”

“Kim Junkyu?”

“Close but not him, I wouldn’t do anything for him” Jungwon stated making you roll your eyes.

“The only person left is Sim Jaeyun and we know it’s not possible”

“Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner”

You give him a shaky smile before asking him, “You’re joking right?”

“I’m not,” he says sincerely. You nod your head and go sit on the nearest stool. Placing a hand on your throat as you begin to scratch at it (something you did when you were nervous) and just sit in silence while Jungwon continues talking.

“After the award ceremony, his management released a statement on his Instagram saying that he would be going on hiatus for two months to visit his family. So we townsmen decided to get flowers to pave the road with because he would be coming back. We would have used gold leaves but it’s too expensive”

He continued talking and talking while you were still trying to process the fact that Jake would be coming back. Physically he was still going to be the same Jake you had a crush on before he left but personality-wise? You doubted that. You heard stories of the way fame had changed people; the love from others would get to their heads and make them overly egotistical. A part of you knew that he wouldn’t change but the other part was unsure. Before he left, you made him promise to not change and while you knew promises could be broken, you knew he wouldn’t break them.

“Jungwon, I want to close the shop for today. I’m not feeling too well and want to rest a bit”

“No problem Y/N! If you want, I can stay here and do business for you”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve made enough money today to last me for next month” you say and shoo him away.

At home, you just sit and think for some time before getting up to make some tea and reminiscing about your high school memories. You hardly had feelings for people so when you did, you let them know immediately. When you told Jake that you liked him, he told you that he felt the same. You ignored him for a week after that because you didn’t think that far. After that, you met up with him and explained the reason why you avoided him. You went out with each other for less than 2 weeks and during that period, he had told you about his dreams of becoming an artist and you supported him wholeheartedly.

He would carry your books from school and you both would walk home together every day. He'd play the violin for you because he was good. You'd both pet stray cats and run when they started chasing you. All good things came to an end when he told you that he had to leave to pursue his dream. You both knew you were too young to even attempt a long-distance relationship so you let each other go even though it hurt. You’d watch his music videos and support his activities even though there was a possibility he would never return. Now that he was going to be here, how were you going to cope knowing that your feelings for him were still the same while his feelings could have gone, especially with all the beautiful people in the industry?

That night, while everyone was outside welcoming Mr Hollywood, you stayed in your house dreading the days that would come. The town was small so there was no way that you wouldn’t bump into him. The voices were loud when you tried to sleep. Seems like everyone was ecstatic that Jake had come back. The noise wasn’t able to let you sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were nervous.

You decide to bake cookies to reduce the stress you are currently feeling. You had learnt from your mistakes and no longer burnt kitchens (your kitchen being valid proof of that), but Jungwon’s dad still wouldn’t lift his ban. You baked cookies till 2 am before you were really tired enough to sleep. You had baked almost a hundred cookies that night.

The next morning, you made sure to wake up early so you wouldn’t run into anyone. Thankfully, the townspeople didn’t want to buy flowers that morning and got started on the orders that people out of town had placed. You brought cookies for Jungwon so he could test them. You were trying to fix the counter when someone walked in, making the bell jingle. Assuming it was Jungwon, you say, “Jungwon the cookies are on the counter. Test them and tell me what you think, don’t eat them and run away”

“I’m not a Jungwon but can I talk to Y/N?” You’re startled but you freeze, instantly recognizing the voice. Jake Sim.

“Hello, what would you like?” you asked with a forced smile. You were way too close, the proximity was making you uneasy. He looked a bit disappointed with the way you answered him but what did he expect to come to? It had been five years.

“I just wanted to tal-” he is cut off by Jungwon bursting through the door.

“Y/N, you will not believe who I saw. I saw Jake Sim with my very own two eyes. He looks so much hotter in real life. Do you think he’d sign my back if I asked-” he stopped instantly when he saw the person that was in the flower shop.

He looked like a fish out of water with the way his mouth was agape. Looking at you, then at Jake and then you again. He brought his hand to his head and he hit it hard making you startled.

“Sorry I will leave now,” Jungwon said.

“To cry” he murmured, making you chuckle. Jungwon was someone that cried when he did something embarrassing.

“Jungwon wait,” you say and walk to give him the cookies you had packed for him with a little note.

“Eat them and get back to me when you’re less you know...embarrassed” He snatches them from your hands and makes a run for the door. You giggle then you remember that Jake was still present. Turning to face him, you ask if he wants anything. “I want to talk to you”

You motion him to sit on the spare chair you had and he obliges. Before you even ask him a question, he begins, “Was that your boyfriend?”

“No, not that it concerns you though”

“Where you last night? I saw everyone but you. The Johnny kid said you were feeling ill. I doubt that wasn’t true as you made cookies. The last time I remembered, you were really bad at anything relating to the kitchen”

“Times change and people change, Jaeyun. It’s been 5 years since we last had a conversation with each other. I’m not the same and I’m sure you’re not the same either”

“Let’s get to know each other again. Do things the old fashioned way. Go on dates, paint, and bake with each other. Do some of the things we could have done 5 years ago.”

“And then when you have to leave and have no contact with each other again”

“I won’t do that, I promise. Never again.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Let me prove it to you-”

He’s cut off by the entrance of another customer and stands up to leave but you don’t miss the longing look in his eyes. You hope he can see the same look in yours that’s covered by hurt and waiting for someone to return.

You were not expecting Jake to be at your store first thing on a Friday morning. He was even earlier than you and you're the boss.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. He was bouncing on his feet and looking cherry when you hadn’t even gotten enough sleep.

“I’m here to take you out. Do it like the old times where I’d wait for you so we could go to school together”

“I have work to do today and I’m going to be booked so another time”

“I have come to offer my assistance so tomorrow we can go out together”

“Don’t you have things to do?”

“I’m on a hiatus, I’m free for almost two months and if you want I can be free for more. Imagine all the things we could do in that time” he trails off, fantasizing when you hadn’t even told him that you still liked him. Meanwhile, you had opened the door and walked in.

"Aren't you going to come in and stop thinking of cute stuff?" you ask him and he quickly runs in, flustered.

He takes a look around and puts on a determined face and gets a broom and starts cleaning. For someone that's supposed to be a celebrity, he was cleaning like an employee. You take a rag and wipe all the surfaces and take care of the flowers. After an hour, the shop is ready to open. Customers come rolling in once they see a new help. Although they're surprised, they don't question it.

During your break, Jake picks up a chrysanthemum and hands it to you. "It's for you because you're beautiful," he says

"Hate to rain on your parade but if you gave me this in Italy, it means you wish I were dead" and with that, he takes back the flower instantly and brings a single red rose. You receive it with a small laugh, finding it funny when he doesn't want you misinterpreting him. You were having a sweet moment with him until Jungwon came in again.

"I'm getting tired of seeing you here Mr Sim. As much as I adore you, I need to meet my friend" he states and pulls you to the back. "Care to explain why Jake Sim is in your store again!?"

"Nope" you respond, popping the p. He brought his hand to his forehead and tried to relax his muscles because according to him, he doesn't want to look forty-five when he's thirty years old.

"Look, it's weird coming here and seeing you have company. I'm not against you having company seeing as you've been lonely the entire time I've known you but, I can't stay in his presence! Why must a man Look so gorgeous!? He's ruining my already broken esteem. Everybody saw him in real life and was wondering how a man could look that good."

"They saw him when he was seventeen years old," you tell him.

"And he's twenty-three now! He doesn't look the same and I don't even need to have known him then to know now"

"Jungwon, I want you to get to the point," you tell him, basically pleading at that point because your break would soon be over.

"I'll see you when I have enough confidence to meet him," he says and leaves the store. You shake your head at his overdramatic behaviour and continue with your day. Jake proves to be amazing assistance and you got things done quicker and even closed earlier.

"Thank you for offering help, you can go home now. See you tomorrow" you say in an attempt to shoo him out.

"I want to walk you home" he announces and goes with you home.

"Do you hate me for not talking to you?" he asks.

"I don't hate you. To be honest, I think we both did the right thing by not talking to each other. It was good we had each other in mind but I would have caused too much of a distraction for you. It was great you focused on your career and achieved your goals. I did well too"

"Johnny boy said you were lonely though," he said.

"Number one, I know you know his name is Jungwon but you're just being petty. Two, why were you eavesdropping on our conversation and three, I still had a bit of hope that one day you'd return. I didn't think that you'd come" you say truthfully. The night was making you vulnerable when answering his questions.

"I always asked my mum how you were doing when I called her, you know? I wanted to check up on you without doing so myself. I'd ask her to give you a pop tart because I knew they were your favourite"

Even though he was still far away, he still had kept you in his mind the same way you did for him.

You got home and stayed at the door before you took him by the shoulder and said, "Let's go out together and have fun". He gives you a soft smile and watches you go in before he retires to his own home.

The following day, you're waiting for him to come. You had tried to dress up for the date but didn't want to underdress or overdress since he hadn't told you where you were going. So you decided to wear a simple sundress and made yourself look nice. He arrived wearing something as casual as you in a car.

"Is this your dad's?" you questioned.

"Yup, I borrowed it to take you out,” he says and winks at you. You shake your head laughing and get in the passenger seat and he drives.

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious.

“You’ll see when we get there” you don’t respond but wind down the window and feel the wind on your face which makes you smile.

You catch Jake glancing at you while he’s driving and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “At least try to pretend you’re not starting”

“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty” This kid, he was making it too easy for you to fall for him.

“Do you still like me, Jaeyun?” you inquire.

“I do,” he said with certainty. Has he always been this bold? You don’t say anything and continue to look out so he reaches over and takes one of your hands in his while he uses his other one to drive. You look at him but just continue doing what you’re doing.

“You might not believe me but I mean it,” he says, lightly squeezing your hand as a form of reassurance.

He stops the car at an aquarium and you both come out. You have a wonderful time and although people recognize him and are surprised to see him with you, they don't say anything and leave you alone. You smiled that day more than you had ever smiled before.

"The fishes look good to eat" you whisper in his ear and he playfully smacks your arm and jokes.

"You monster! How can you say that!?" to which you jokingly shrug.

After the aquarium, he takes you to a flower field. "I did my research this time so I don't give you a wrong flower." He picked up a primrose and says, "I know this one means love is eternal so I'm giving it to you because no matter the distance between us, our love will be forever"

You feel warm this time and know that even if he were to leave again, the distance wouldn't matter because together, you both could overcome anything.

"You're all I need" you manage to say.

"When did you get all sentimental?" he teases and you chase after him in the flower field. When you get tired, you lie down on the grass and he lays next to you. Your hands find his hands amid all the grass and you squeeze it. Unknowingly, you fall asleep next to him.

The next weeks that follow include you two bonding and Jake having fun and being relaxed. He was able to write a song but wouldn't let you see the lyrics, saying it wasn't something he wants you to see yet. You met his parents and thanked his mum for taking care of you indirectly and conversed with his dad too. You could tell that he hadn't forgotten any of the values his parents had thought him. He grew up surrounded by a lot of love so he had more than enough to give.

He also met your parents and he was nervous even though you had tried to reassure him that they wouldn't do anything to him. Your father tried to act scary but deep down you knew he had a soft spot for him. Your mom was showering with more affection than she gave you and Jungwon tried stylishly asking him for his celebrity crush numbers.

"Jake, since you're dating my friend can you link me up with Han Sohee? You've worked with her before, help a friend out"

"I'll ask her but no promises" Jungwon was so happy the entire day.

A few days before Jake had to go back because his hiatus was over, you both were talking about how things would be while baking muffins.

"Y/N don't think I won’t talk to you when I go because I can already see the gears turning in your head."

"Pass me the butter Jaeyun"

"Are we back to the first-name basis? Call me the sweet names" he whined.

"Just pass the butter babe" and he passes it instantly.

"Now back to what you were saying, I know you won't forget me obviously and if you try I I can always take a flight to get to you." You tell him. You weren't going to wait around for him anymore. If you missed him, you'd go see him if he was unable to come to see you.

"Better, I was already worried," he says and gives you a back hug.

The day he left was bittersweet and you shed a few tears. It took a lot of willpower to not cry in front of him. You didn't want him to leave but you knew that he had a job to get to and you couldn't be in the way of that.

You both regularly kept in touch, calling each other at least twice a week to catch up on what had happened during each other's week. He hadn't told you that he released a new song and you found out through his fanboy Jungwon who was now the self-acclaimed president of his fan club.

"Y/N, have you heard Jake's new solo? I cried to it for an hour straight" You didn't have any time to check what was going on because someone had ordered flowers for their wedding and you had to get them done quickly.

"New solo?" you ask and Jungwon sits you down and plays the song for you. Truth be told, you cried as well. It felt like he was there with you telling you that he'd never change.

You watched the interview and when he was asked about the meaning or person behind the song, he said, "There's someone that I love and I wanted to let her know that no matter how famous I get, I won't ever change and she shouldn't change either". He looked directly at the camera then continued, "You're stuck with me forever".

That night, you called him and cried on the phone to him telling him about how you saw the interview.

"Y/N, you know I care about you" you sobbed even harder.

"I care about you too, forever"

"Forever baby, regardless of the distance"

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #ficscafe #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake x reader #enhypenwriters

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swcetnight · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength." Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

enjoying this story? please be sure to like and reblog!! It would really help me out, and i would love to hear your thoughts and feelings regarding this work 🥺🤍 thank you for taking the time to read!!

taglist: @monvante @moonchild1 @strawverryxmilktae If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send in an ask!! 🤍

#fic: it’s definitely you #faes fanfics #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung x oc #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

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puppy love | l.jn

synopsis: in which a new chance at love crashes into you when you least expect it to genre: dog park!au, strangers to lovers!au, fluff pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader word count: 1,392

author’s note: happy jeno day, czennies! i hope you’ll find this drabble as sweet as the birthday boy! (this is unedited, i’ll look back at it later!)

Tired of seeing sulk about being lonely, your friends suggested something that sounded great at the time.

Get a dog, they said.

It’ll be a lot of fun, they said.

You always dreamed about having a pet.

Well, they forgot to mention how much work having a dog was. Terriers were mostly known to be low maintenance dogs that were moderately energetic--your pup did not fit into the norm.

Though small and compact, Nana was a hyperactive dog. A morning trip to the dog park often tired her out during the day, allowing her to sleep the majority of the time you were away at work. Playing with her granted you the exercise you desperately needed and while fun, you tired out very easily. There were times you wished for Nana to have a canine companion. You wished for it as much as you hoped to find a companion of your own.

Your friends and family also played with the idea of meeting someone and their pet at the dog park-- kill two birds with one stone--but that storyline was damn near impossible. The only other regulars you saw at the park were either coupled off or just not in your age range.

Nana began to whine as you drew closer to the gate, the dog insistently tugging against your hold. “Hold on, baby, we’re almost there,” you said groggily. Looking around the area, you noticed that none of the regulars were there that morning. Maybe it was because you came thirty minutes later than your usual time.

“Seems like your friends aren’t here today, Nana,” you said dejectedly as you opened the gate. That meant you had to play with her--your morning fix of coffee didn’t hit you yet and you hope you did soon. You couldn’t keep up with her when she was like this. Your dog rushed in, her paws scurrying from the paved sidewalk to the grass covered in morning dew. Her feet impatiently stomped as you slammed the gate shut, waiting for you to release her from her leash.

Hearing a loud bark, your head shot up to see a tall person in a hoodie running after a fluffy Samoyed that was heading your way. “Chief, wait!”

Just as you unbuckled Nana from her leash, the larger dog leaped in your direction, almost bulldozing over your smaller pet and straight into you. The unexpected impact was too much for you, sending you back into the wet grass. Large pants and a heavy weight kept you from getting up and you glanced to see that beautiful Samoyed hovering on top of you. Its tongue stuck out, tail wagging rapidly as it stared down at you before nudging your hand for some love. You laughed in astonishment before carding your fingers through its soft fur.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the owner profusely apologized as he reached you, “Chief still isn’t used to how large he is.” His voice was charming just as it was deep and once you caught his eye, your breath caught in your throat. If this dog was beautiful, then its owner was absolutely divine in the early morning light. His hood slid down to reveal more of his face, allowing you to see the man’s kind eyes, sharp features, and clear skin. His black hair was styled messily due to the hood but the look still suited him.

One rough pat to the Samoyed’s side was enough to nudge him away from you. “Let me help you up,” the handsome stranger said, offering his large hand out to you. You tentatively slid your hand into his hold before he pulled you back to your feet with little to no effort. “Thank you,” you said in reply to his kind action. You hoped he didn’t notice the embarrassed expression on your face.

“It’s no problem,” he smiled back, his eye scrunching into the cutest curves. He looked like the dog that just knocked you over. How was that even possible?

Dusting yourself off, you noted that Nana was no longer at your side. Just as you were about to shout for her, you found her playing happily with the Samoyed. “Oh good, I was afraid that she wouldn’t have a playmate during this time,” you let out a sigh of relief. Finding a need to explain yourself, you added, “I usually come earlier in the morning.”

“Decided to sleep in today?” the man asked with a teasing chuckle.

“Yeah, pretty sure I pressed my snooze button a couple of times,” you giggled.

“I usually come around this time but no one’s here,” he said, “It’s nice to see someone else at the park for a change.”

Before you knew what you were doing, you shot back with, “Maybe you should start coming earlier.”

With the same tone, he answered, “Or maybe you can keep hitting that snooze button.” You brought up your hand to cover your smile and mute the laugh that slipped through your lips.

Grinning at your positive response, the man extended a hand out to you. “I’m Jeno,” he started off. “And that, over there,” he gestured off to his Samoyed playing with Nana, “is Chief.”

Placing your hand in his rougher one again, you introduced yourself with a shy smile. “That little one is Nana.”

Jeno let out a loud snort and laugh before covering his lips. His shoulders shook as he tried to calm down. Shocked, you looked at him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that name, was there? You thought it to be quite adorable.

“Oh no, sorry for laughing. I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he waved his hands to reassure you. “It’s just that my best friend’s nickname is Nana. His real name is Na Jaemin.”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Jeno lit up his home screen to show you a picture of him, another handsome man, and Chief smiling at the camera. “Cute,” you commented with a smile.

“Who-- Nana?”

His sudden question flustered you. “N-no, I mean, yes? I mean--”

“Damn, I was hoping you were referring to me,” he said, the grin on his face growing larger.

“Well, I mean, um--” Oh, this was so going well. A cute guy with a dog talks to you and you can’t even form a full sentence. Why were you like this?

“Hey, no. It’s okay. I was kidding.” He lightly patted your shoulder as you took a swig out of your water bottle. ‘Not going to lie, though, I was hoping you would say I was cute.”

You barely missed choking on your drink. “Oh my god, it’s too early for this,” you muttered under your breath. “I need more coffee.”

“Sorry, am I coming off too strong?” Jeno chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to flirt with someone.”

“So you admit that you’re flirting?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yup,” you turned away to watch the two canines chase each other’s tails. “Definitely need more coffee.”

As if they knew you wanted to leave the park, your dogs charged towards you at full speed. Unlike before, Chief stopped right before your feet, tongue dipping into a bowl filled with water. He made space for your tinier dog to drink from the bowl as well, the two acting like best friends even though they just met thirty minutes prior. Tugging treats from your jacket pocket, you commanded them to do a couple of tricks before rewarding them as Jeno watching fondly in the background.

“Hey,” Jeno called, drawing your attention to the two dogs nosing your hand.

“Yeah?”

“You said you needed coffee, right? Wanna grab some with me? I know a good cafe down the road from here,” he offered a bit timidly, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. “It seems like the two little ones want to hang out more. I think they like each other, I’ve never seen Chief act this way with another dog before.”

You heard a couple of yelps and quickly shifted to see Chief and Nana playing tug of war with a tree branch.

“Must be puppy love, then. And yeah, I’d really like that.”

When Jeno smiled at you, you swore he shone brighter than the sun. “I’d really like that, too.”

#dreamwritersnet #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #lee jeno #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines

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haikyuuvbc · 2 years ago

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Do You Comma Here Often? Chapter 30: A Week and a Half to Go

A/N: I’m trying to get back into this series (again). I have a couple more chapters queued up so I’ll be a bit more active!

Chapter 29 Masterlist Chapter 31

There is a little more than one week left of your internship. It’s hard to think about that as you walk into Vie Publishing on Thursday morning at 6:45am. You’ve begun taking some of the knick knacks from your desk and cubicle home to make it easier at the end of the internship. You’ve collected a couple of figures from Fruits Basket which are now on your nightstand, and the volumes of manga you’ve borrowed from various people and friends of friends have been returned. At this point, the only things left are your office supplies, computer, and a Zomb’ish figurine that Tenma dropped off on your desk at the beginning of this week to expand your collection. It was a bit sad to look at the area in all its emptiness, but it was inevitable that the internship had to end at some point.

After dropping off your things at your desk, you make your way over to Akaashi’s office. You had noticed his car in the parking lot so you knew he was here, not unusual. However, the unusual thing was Akaashi’s appearance itself. He was slumped over, head laying on his arms, eyes closed and glasses askew. He looked peaceful. The sight was enough to make you stop and watch his steady breathing from the doorway in awe. A few minutes pass, though, and he shows no sign of waking up from his dreaming. It’s only 7:00, so the work day doesn’t technically start for a while. No harm in letting him sleep. You run back to your desk and grab your blanket, though, because it is a little chilly.

Very carefully, you tiptoe into his office up to him. He looks even more tranquil up close and you can’t help but admire him. It was easy enough to place the fuzzy blanket across Akaashi’s shoulders, which is when you thought about his glasses again. It probably wasn’t good for them to be slept on, so you reach down to his face and carefully tug the glasses away from his closed eyes, folding them up and setting the glasses down on the desk in front of him. Far enough away that he has very little chance of knocking them off. With one last close up look of Akaashi, you start to head back to the doorway only to realize you are no longer alone. Tenma waves at you as your face grows hot. Busted.

Both of you wait until the door to Akaashi’s office has been closed before speaking.

“I can’t believe he actually fell asleep up here,” you timidly comment, breaking the silence. Although you aren’t sure why you feel embarrassed or caught red handed when all you did was put a blanket on him and take his glasses off. You’re the kind of person who would do that for a friend. Akaashi is your friend, which makes your actions logical. Tenma nods at the comment, agreeing.

“I was going to drop off my second to last edits with Akaashi, but that could wait a bit. Want to go grab some coffee in the meantime? Since you’ve been able to keep up with him throughout this whole process I have to assume that you run on caffeine as well.”

“Accurate assumption. Let me grab the coffee card real quick.”

The cafe was a bit hectic as most people were heading to work, still, you and Tenma were able to snag a small table to sit down at. You’ll grab another coffee for yourself and one for Akaashi before you leave.

“Your internship is over next week right?” Tenma asks as you both take your seats. You nod, taking a sip of your cold brew. “Then I’m going to cut to the chase, also because in the times we’ve interacted I’ve always had the impression that you are a straightforward person.” Tilting your head in an inquisitive manner, you allow Tenma to continue.

“When are you planning to talk to Akaashi about your feelings for him?” Your eyes widen in shock. The way he phrases the question indicates that it’s clear to someone who interacts with you a fraction of the time can easily notice your feelings. That’s a scary thought, especially given that Akaashi is an extremely observant person. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, to gather your words, and reply to Tenma.

“I wasn’t planning on doing anything, actually.” This time it was Tenma’s turn to be surprised. He doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for you to explain your decision. “Relationships aren’t something that I’m good at maintaining. If it wasn’t for the persistent nature of my friends, I’m not sure I would have any. I’m not sure what is going to naturally happen after this internship ends, but I’m not going to ruin an already formed friendship by trying to pursue a possibility of a relationship. That’s not a logical risk to take. I can get over the feelings. It’ll be easy once we aren’t working together anymore.” Even as you said the last part, though, your heart was a bit sad at the idea of not interacting with Akaashi on a daily basis.

Moments pass. The cafe slows down in business which prompts you to look at the time on your phone’s lock screen. The photo was a screenshot of a video call with Oikawa and the rest of the anime weekend boys. It features you and Akaashi sitting next to each other, sharing the gigantic blanket he and Bokuto kept in their living room. All of you have smiles on your face, but you’re most drawn to Akaashi’s. You had already decided you would be okay keeping your feelings to yourself. It’s just unfortunate that you have to keep convincing everyone else as well.

“So, are you satisfied with the ending of your series?” Tenma looks exasperated, but respects that you were changing the conversation and answers the question anyway.

“I am, and hopefully the readers will be, too,” he replies with a smile.

Your coffee companion passes on getting another drink, but graciously waits for you to grab your second cup and your advisor’s nitro cold brew. The walk back to the office was filled with questions and answers about the final arc. When the two of you walk by Akaashi’s door, you notice that he’s no longer sitting at his chair, but the blanket that you laid on him was folded neatly on the desk.

“Oh look,” Tenma comments. “He’s escaped.” You giggle at this comment and go to set his coffee on his desk. After a moment of contemplation, you run back to your desk and grab the items you need to begin the morning briefing, inviting Tenma to join you in the other seat opposite of Akaashi’s desk chair. It’s only a few minutes later when Akaashi walks back in his office to see the two of you talking and going over your presentation about the final arc.

“Wonderful to see you awake, Akaashi,” is how the mangaka greets your advisor. Akaashi rolls his eyes and smiles a little bit.

“Wonderful to see you here before noon, Tenma.”

Before the meeting gets started, though, you add one more item to your to-do list.

Hopefully Effective Taglist

@elianetsantana @anejuuuuoy @chaichai-the-weeb @animeflower26 @faithfulferns @navymacaroons @je-suis-une-criminal @your-consulting-fangirl @samie-babie @euphorihan @aquariarose @sempiternal-amour @crybabbicus @kittyddandnyla @hoe4hq @starryleafy @mint-mai @asdfghjkl7things @runningwitches @iwantmyinsanityback @whosaskingwrites @what-dose-nani-mean @sokeyda @normalisthenewnorm @miyaosamusgf @teeacooper @fandomtrashpandasposts @kageyamasgirl @peteunderoos @reina-de-tay @cuddlesslut @marissaraeblr @camcam1617 @immxnty @alice-greenleaf @liyueharbor @duhsies @ilauvcoldpizza @reina-de-tay @rintarawr @chaoticlyclowning @chantalkate16 @kuroosmikasavolleyball @fly-high-my-love @tanakasimpcorner

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media au #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi smau #akaashi social media au

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crumpled--notes · 3 years ago

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Puppy Love

AmeLiet Week Human/Idol AU ao3 Rating: G Words: 1474 Summary: Tadas takes Alfred to a puppy cafe before he has to go back to dance practice.

Tadas didn’t look up from his book as he tossed the water bottle previously sitting on the small table next to him. He smirked when Alfred let out a hissed curse, but it sounded like he’d managed to catch the tall, pink-and-green bottle.

There were white lines along the side, but instead of measurements in liters or fluid ounces, there were statements Alfred called Girl Boss Proverbs: Don’t dream, do; Remember your goal; #Hussle; Make expectations, not excuses; Keep feeling awesome; Sore today, strong tomorrow.

Tadas had bought it as a joke (plus, it had only been three dollars) two years ago, but Alfred still used it everyday. He had even added some vinyl stickers, most from their friend Feliciano’s Etsy shop.

“Done for the day?” Tadas stuck a Pokemon card into the book to mark his place. “Don’t drink so fast, širdelė. I added ice cubes earl—” He stopped as Alfred groaned and leaned against the wall, head bowed.

Sighing, Tadas took off his reading glasses, taking his time as he fished the green case out of his backpack. Once his glasses and book were packed up, Alfred was fine again and rubbing his forehead with the cloth draped over one shoulder.

“Just a break,” Alfred muttered, but despite the displeasure in his voice, he was smiling. “Artie says we’re behind schedule, so it’s going to be a late night to make sure we’ve all got the moves down for the music video this Saturday.”

“The puppy café’s right next door,” Tadas suggested, laughing at the huge grin that spread over his husband’s face. “You can eat something light and unwind with the dogs before coming back…”

“Three hours,” Alfred said into the spout of his water bottle as he held up three fingers. His red nail polish was chipping, but it would be taken off and replaced with silver holo polish on Saturday, anyway.

“That’s enough time.” Tadas intertwined his fingers with Alfred’s, bringing another smile to the idol’s face.

They’d have to stop holding hands when they left the building—the manager wanted all the guys to look available—but Tadas enjoyed the warmth of Alfred’s hand while he could. They were still together in every way that mattered; he didn’t like the idea of ending up partially in the limelight as Alfred Jones’s Husband, anyway. This was just fine for him.

As they walked, Alfred finished his water and handed the bottle back to Tadas, who slid it into the holder on the side of his backpack. With his other hand now free, Alfred waved it around as he talked about the dance number, the previews he got to see of what the special effects would look like, the interview coming up, and the webcomics coming out that his company partnered with.

“First one’s just gonna be about me, Yong Soo, Francis, Carlos, Romano, and Feliks before we came to the company—fictionalized, though, to make it more like the whole being discovered thing, not months of applications and sending in videos and sitting through interviews.” Alfred frowned a bit as they approached the door, but he smiled when Tadas squeezed his hand before letting go.

Alfred moved first, so he could hold the door open for Tadas, who nodded gratefully and asked, “And to help set up a backstory for your and Carlos’s ‘rivalry?’”

Chuckling, Alfred scratched the back of his head. “I swear, sometimes I think that guy enjoys roasting me a little too much.” He let go of the door and caught up with Tadas with only a couple strides.

Tadas wasn’t much shorter than Alfred, but the idol had longer legs and had a faster stride when he wasn’t walking with Tadas or down a red carpet.

“It’s fun to watch, though,” Tadas said, thinking of the planned dance battle between the two during the group’s last interview.

Alfred losing had not been part of the plan, but the interviewer had thrown in a song at the end to try tripping them up, and while Alfred was a good dancer, Carlos was much better at improvising and thinking on his feet.

Laughing at the memory, also thinking of that interview, Alfred shook his head. “That bastard’s face… trying to trip us up to show how manufactured everything is—probably pisses me off, so much ‘cause he’s right. Carlos definitely deserved that win, though, and I know the Carmano shippers loved seeing Romano actually break through his ‘bad boy’ image and give Carlos a hug after.”

“They’re going to go nuts when they finally learn they’re married,” Tadas said, keeping his voice low out of habit whenever he mentioned any relationships of the guys in Alfred’s group.

Alfred laughed and opened the door to the puppy café for Tadas, bowing dramatically as they heard the sound of kids laughing and dogs barking. “After you, my good sir!”

Shaking his head, Tadas entered and waved at the host, Ludwig. He’d looked up from his textbook at the sound of the bell attached to the door, and he gave a small smile around the pen in his mouth. Ink dotted the scruff on his chin, and there was an uncapped highlighter behind his left ear, marking his hair with pink spots.

“Got a table for two?” Tadas asked. “Sorry for being a bit early. Alfred needs to get back to the studio in a few hours.”

Moving the reservation book out from underneath his textbook, Ludwig took the pen out of his mouth. “It hasn’t been too busy today, so you’re lucky.” He made a note. “Table in the back behind the fern good?”

“Perfect,” Alfred breathed, and Ludwig nodded in understanding.

He’d tried the idol thing already at his older brother’s pushing, but he hadn’t been able to handle the stress. He also hadn’t enjoyed the contract that had made it so he wasn’t able to tell anyone about dating Francis, the two now engaged. Francis would be leaving the group next once his contract was up, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he’d find someone else or leave them as a group of five.

Despite the circles under his eye and the five o’clock shadow when Ludwig was usually clean-shaven, Ludwig honestly looked happier. He smiled easier and opened up more, especially when one got him talking about veterinary medicine.

Ludwig guided them to their table, promising that Marie would be by soon with their drinks.

He started walking away when a bloodhound puppy bolted out of the puppy room, tripping over her own ear before Ludwig could catch her. Alfred gasped and cooed as Tadas laughed while Ludwig smiled and scratched the wiggling baby behind her floppy ears.

“This is Pepper, by the way,” Ludwig laughed as Feliciano stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him before more dogs could escape. “She’s a bit of an escape artist, even if she doesn’t look it at first.”

“Sorry!” Feliciano gasped, and he took Pepper from Ludwig. “Me and Erzsi didn’t notice Arik trying to open the door until it was too late.”

Distantly, Tadas heard a woman lightly scolding someone. “No harm, it looks like.”

“Yep, no harm.” Ludwig nodded to Feliciano, who nodded, smiling. “You’re fine, Feli. My dad isn’t going to fire you just for one puppy escaping on your first day.”

“Yeah….” Feliciano gave a nervous chuckle. “Thanks, Luddy. I’ll head back in.”

Ludwig waved at Tadas and Alfred as he left, and Marie arrived soon after with Tadas’s coffee and Alfred’s water. They already knew what they wanted, having come here enough times to have the menu memorized.

“Do you think Hero’s still here?” Alfred asked as he sipped his water through the metal straw Tadas handed him (he kept a case of them in his backpack).

“Y’know, we could always adopt him,” Tadas suggested slowly, nervous and already anticipating Alfred’s answer.

Looking down at the table, Alfred said, “Um… I’d love to, but…”

“I wouldn’t mind caring for him,” Tadas assured, tea eyes soft. “I love the little pittie, too, and I could use the reason to start getting active again. My knees popped when I walked up the stairs to class this morning.”

Alfred chuckled, cheeks dusted with red. He bit his bottom lip and slowly looked up. “You sure? I’m starting to have to travel more, and it’s already…”

“It’d be nice to have a dog while you’re touring, especially one that reminds me of you,” Tadas said. “He’s almost as whiny as you are, too.”

Alfred tried to glare but laughed, glasses slipping down his nose. “Okay… then… if he’s still here, we’ll ask Ludwig for a form!”

“I called ahead,” Tadas informed his husband, smiling and muscles relaxed now. “He’s here, and I already sent in the money. We just need to sign on the dotted line.”

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1-800-seo · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Lee Taeyong X Gender Neutral Reader

Song: The Louvre - Lorde (lyrics mentioned)

Genre: Fluff/Artist!You + Poet!Taeyong

Warnings: suspicions of cheating, alcohol consumption, slightly tipsy-ness, some kissing, implied sexual content but not explicit.

Word Count: 4000 approx.

Summary: As wandering, travelling college students on a gap year, meeting each other in the Louvre was purely coincidental, and usually summer flings weren’t your thing, but Taeyong was different. And like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

The floorboards creak as the tour group shuffles down the hallways of the Louvre, passing many other tourists. The tour group leader stops at another painting and begins his explanation of the painting you see in front of you; well, you would be able to see it if you weren’t at the back of the group. Craning your neck to see, you stand on your tiptoes, before realising it is all in vain. Forgetting the other artwork, you swivel to see another painting on the wall adjacent to it and peer upon it instead. A young icy blond haired man stands beside you, examining the artwork too. He wears a baggy striped t-shirt that shows his delicate collarbones, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, a necklace gently hanging around his neck. He looks positively comfy, but effortlessly chic; you can’t help but stare at his chiselled jawline either. The man looks as if he was carved out of marble, angular lines with delicate features, he was stunningly beautiful. And suddenly, you realise you’ve been staring way too long when he turns his head and catches you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, but you sense no malice in his voice as a warm smile creeps up his face. Looking at the ground, the painting, anywhere, you apologise; “Ah, I’m sorry… uhm I like your outfit.” You reply gingerly, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. “Thank you! It’s new.” He sits down on a near bench, eyes trained on the painting ahead. “As great as this painting is, I cannot stand scenes of suffering - I really struggle to find the beauty in them.” He blurts out after a moment. “Why’s that?” You curiously reply. You’ve always liked paintings from the romanticism era, the painting in question being ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Theodore Gericault. “For instance, this painting shows their suffering, and just that itself is not nice to see, but the colour palette is so murky to me. What do I know though, I’m no artist.” You understand what he means, as an art major, you had to analyse this piece one semester. “I get where you are coming from, the aging of the paints makes it appear murkier than the artist intended, and I think that adds to the whole ‘suffering’ aspect.” As you end your sentence, you turn your head and realise the tour group has moved on. You pat him on the shoulder and point in the direction of the crowd. He swears under his breath before standing up and leading the way back with the group. What a beautiful stranger.

Once the tour group has ended, you vacate the Louvre, more sightseeing to do. After a busy day of staring up at the Arc De Triomphe and climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower, you end up walking by the Louvre again since you previously spotted a cute cafe you wanted to try out. Now dusk, the water display is illuminated, bathed in light and bubbling. You see a familiar figure sat on the wall beside it, looking slightly lost and reading from a notebook. Unsure whether to help, you continue walking on to the cafe, this would only take a minute or two. Once done, with two coffees in hand, you walk back to the Louvre and the figure still sitting on the wall.

“Are you ok? You seem a bit lost?” You gently ask, testing the waters. The man from the gallery looks back up to you, big expressive eyes staring back, and you sense a hint of worry in them. “Hi, yeah, I’m a bit lost. My phone died and I can’t find my way back to my hotel.” He says, forlorn. “Well, I bought you a coffee, if you’d like it, and I don’t mind helping! I can maybe help with directions.” You hand the coffee towards him, and he takes it from you, eyes lighting up as he does. “Aww thank you! That would mean a lot to me, and thank you for the coffee.” You sit down on the wall next to him as you pull up Google maps on your phone. “It’s no problem. Where are you staying? I’ll put it into maps and have a look.” “I’m staying at the mur de coquelicots hotel.” “Oh no way! I’m staying there too! I know exactly where it is, we can walk back together.” “That sounds great.” He replies with a smile, eyes shining.

The pair of you walk through the city as the sun sets and the moon begins to shine. Conversation flows easily, and you find yourself totally enamoured with this stranger. He’s bubbly and friendly, charismatic and charming, simultaneously shy and chatty. It’s hard not to stare as he speaks to you, it’s an added bonus that he’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, the walk is over quicker than you’d like and you two enter through the lobby of the cheap but nice enough hotel. You make your way into the elevator with him, and press your floor. “Well it was nice meeting you. I just realised I don’t even know your name.” You giggle. “I’m Y/N.” “Thank you for your help Y/N, I’m Taeyong by the way.” “You’re welcome, goodnight Taeyong.” You bid your farewell and exit the lift, the doors opening as you finish your sentence.

As you reach the door to your room, you fiddle with the key card, excitement bubbling up inside of you. What a lovely guy. You flop down on the comfy hotel bed once you’re inside of the room. Spending all summer in Paris was becoming more and more like a dream come true.

The sun shines through the translucent curtains as you gather your things into your tote bag and get ready to leave the hotel room for breakfast. You wander over to the quaint bakery across the road from the hotel, and spot a familiar figure sitting in the outdoor seating with a newspaper. The blonde haired man sports a beret, and looks positively relaxed as he munches away on a croissant. You pick out a pastry, before walking over. “Is this seat taken?” You ask, and pull out the chair to sit down. “No, feel free to sit.” He replies with a smile. You sit opposite to him and shift in your seat to get comfortable. “What a lovely morning, right?” His smile beams as he looks your way. “Definitely! I love the warm weather.” You say, “it’ll be perfect to paint in.” “Oh so, you’re a painter? That’s cool, Paris is perfect for inspiration. It’s certainly aiding me.” “Yeah, I’m a painter, I’m here as an international student on study leave. What do you do?” “I’m an English literature major, specialising in poetry, so I’m here finding inspiration for poems of my own.” “Well, you’re certainly at the right place. Speaking of inspiration, I’m going to visit the Palace of Versailles today if you’d like to come with me and are not busy. I thought since you’re alone here, you might want to?” You ask, rubbing your hands over your arms, a slight shiver of nervousness at your sudden offer. “That sounds amazing! Thank you for the invite. What time are you thinking of leaving?” His eyes light up at your offer and your nervousness is put at bay. “Around 12pm, and you’re very welcome.” You reply. “Sounds good, I’ll meet you here at 12pm then?” He responds chirpily. “Sounds good to me.”

Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall.) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind

(But what about love?)

Nothing wrong with it

Supernatural

Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting

This wasn’t something you usually did. Asked our strangers or chose to spend time with ones you are not familiar with. But it was almost a supernatural attraction. He was not your usual type at all, but something strong and lulling was moving over you. Something indescribable, beyond enchanting.

Walking around the luscious gardens of the Palace of Versailles was just a sight to behold. The beauty that is held within was stunning. It was as you strolled around it that Taeyong took your hand in his; so casually that you didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it hit you and your heart fluttered. You smiled wide as he looked at you with tender eyes. It’s not wrong to move this fast right? Nothing wrong with a summer fling.

Nothing wrong with it, supernatural.

As the two of you walk around, conversation flows freely. You speak of previous art pieces and he talks about writing, he tells you about how long he’s been in Paris and so many other things. Before you know it, you two find yourselves under a grand stone archway, and conversation trails off delicately. “You’re so beautiful, I love the way the sunlight hits you. I think you’d make a beautiful painting yourself.” He says unexpectedly. A bubble rises through your chest, and you know what you want to do. You lean forward, placing your hands gently either side of his head and you kiss him. His soft lips meet yours and you are drinking each other in. The kiss is brief but heavenly all the same. As you pull away you notice a light blush over his cheeks and a dorky grin on his face. You feel the same grin on yours.

After a lovely day together walking around the palace’s gardens and opulent rooms, you decide to head back and get some food together. Being students and not having a ton of money, you both decide to get food from a local convenience store and to eat it on the hotel room balcony. “What do you fancy eating?” He asks, his hand still grasped around yours as you peruse the items in the shop. “I think I fancy some quiche, what are you thinking?” “I think I’ll get some cheese and crackers.” He adds, checking out the foreign cheeses. Once the pair of you have your haul, you head back up to the hotel room, and lay out your spread on the balcony table. The sun is setting gently in the distance and it illuminates the skies in gentle peaches and pinks. In his company, it just feels so comfortable, so cosy.

A rush at the beginning.

At the shop, you also purchase a bottle of wine, and the two of you share it together. Perhaps the cosy feeling is from that, you don’t know, but either way; you enjoy being in his company and don’t regret talking to the beautiful stranger in the Louvre. After some time, you’re both positively tipsy, not drunk, just giggly and happy. Taeyong starts dancing on the balcony, languid movements and sharp ones intertwined into a beautiful choreography. You’re not quite sure how he learnt to dance this way, he deserves to be on a stage. But for tonight, you were his audience.

Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough.

He flows freely, not unlike a puppet on a string, controlled by some unseen forces to move his body in ways you could never. “Where did you learn that dance?” You ask, intrigued to no end. “I’m freestyling, just making it up.” Of course, he’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and talented. “That’s crazy, you’re amazing.” You reply, and he blushes at your compliment. “One minute, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” He replies, and sets his phone down on the table. “See you in a sec.” Whilst he’s gone you sit and stare at the beautiful dusk sky that is out ahead. You’re aware that what you have with Taeyong is quite the whirlwind, but you really can’t find the space to care. There isn’t any damage being done, and you’re young so now’s the time to have fun and be carefree. You’re in Paris, maybe it’s called the City of Love for a reason?

As almost to interrupt your thinking, Taeyong’s phone buzzes on the table and the screen illuminates in front of you. You can’t help but see what the message says, it’s right there in front of you. The message is from “이 소연” and it reads: “Missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy Paris <3”

Is it possible he has a partner? Were you not the only one? It’s entirely possible that you were just a summer fling to him, and he actually has a partner back home.

I overthink your punctuation use. Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do. A rush at the beginning. I get caught up, just for a minute.

Were you just getting caught up with everything? Did you really just rush into things without even a second thought. Of course, you were being naive, you didn’t even ask if he was single before kissing him. And yes, he reciprocated but what did that mean? You were just the enabler.

Alas, you had to move on with the night, getting suspicious of him and acting weird wouldn’t help right now. So when he comes back onto the balcony, you continue the night as normal, pushing down your feelings. Perhaps it was his sister. You really cannot presume. Despite your logical side being sensible, your emotional side still fought a battle. Warring to be front and centre of your thoughts. You know you can’t let it get the better of you though. And so, you carry on with the night, albeit slightly stilted now; and you make an excuse to go to bed earlier than you normally would. You scuttle off to your hotel room across the hall and settle in for the night. Thoughts swirling around and around in your mind.

Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest, broadcast the boom, boom, boom.

The sun rises overhead, almost fully above the buildings as you nibble on your croissant quietly. The streets are starting to come to life as you watch from the local bakery with your morning coffee. Desperately, you try to put your mind at ease, try to push down the onslaught of intrusive thoughts; illogical as they come. After 20 minutes, you start to feel more at peace, you watch the dainty flowers sway in the morning breeze in their pot. You almost expect to feel worse when you see him. He approaches you, leather satchel hanging at his waist, and waves as he comes. Instead you don’t feel worse, you just feel oddly numb. Completely sensationless as you put on a smile in return to his wave. He sits down in the chair across from you, and places his satchel on the floor next to his chair.

“Good morning! How are you today? I hope you’re not hungover from the wine last night.” He says with a giggle. “I know I certainly am, but I’m trying to be positive.” He adds, and you notice his slightly ruffled bed head, must’ve been from a rough sleep. “Ahh, you certainly are doing a good job of being positive then,” you reply with a smile that reaches your eyes and crinkles them, “luckily, I don’t feel hungover. I’m just enjoying the morning slowly and as it comes.” Which is true, you decided you’d take today as it comes. “I’m glad you don’t feel too bad then. I’m just going to nip inside to get something to eat, do you want anything?” He rises from his chair and gestures to the shop door. “No thank you, I just finished a croissant before you came, but thanks anyway.” “No worries.” And he leaves to enter the boulangerie.

I’m just the sucker who let you fill her mind.

You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taeyong. It wasn’t worth it, at the end of the day, all you did was kiss him once. Perhaps you needed to find out more about him, get the full context at least. When Taeyong sits back down the conversation starts back up again and turns to family life. “So do you have any family back home?” You ask curiously. “What, in Korea? Yeah, I do. I have my parents back home and a sister. Yerin, she’s 15 and quite the handful. I miss her, but for now FaceTime calls will suffice.” He lets out a low chuckle at his own joke, making the situation a bit lighter. His answer doesn’t provide any clues to your questions though. “Aww that’s nice, I have a sister too. But she’s older than me. Do you have a partner at all?” You ask now, testing the waters. “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” “Same for me.” Well, that also doesn’t answer your questions. You’re pretty sure that the text earlier wasn’t from his sister, and you expect his mum to be down in his phone as a term of endearment; not a full name so it can’t be her. Is it better to give up the search? Maybe asking Taeyong more later would help. But what to say? Future you would deal with that. For now, you had the whole day ahead.

“So what do you have planned today?” He inquired now, breaking you from your thoughts. “I’m just going to go paint in the local park, do you fancy being my sitter? I need more anatomy practice.” “Ooh of course! I’ve never done anything like that before.” And so today’s plans were set. How could you pass up on the opportunity to paint someone built so divinely like Taeyong? Personal interests aside, Taeyong was made to be immortalised in artwork forever. His sharp jawline, large emotive eyes, and slim frame all coming together to create the perfect sitter for you. A painting of him, no matter the artist who painted it, should be hung in the Louvre. A masterpiece deserving of being viewed by everyone and adored.

Our thing progresses

I call and you come through

The spot you are situated in is perfect, a lush knoll leading out onto a tulip field, the many colours like a rainbow behind Taeyong. You’d decided to paint him in watercolour, partially because of the easy clean up, partially because you want to capture his true beauty, the delicate tones of his skin, hair, and eyes; the gentle dips of his collarbone, the sinewy muscle of his arms.

Taeyong poses quietly, the silence a comfortable one, as you begin painting him. He looks thoughtful, looking out into space behind you, he almost seems meditative, eyes blinking slowly and breathing even. As you mix the colour of his skin tone on your watercolour pan, you see him sigh, and wonder what he is thinking about. From what you know, Taeyong’s an introspective person, much like you, and perhaps that’s the mood he is in today. You are the same. It’s hard in the silence for your thoughts not to turn to the message. Intrusive thoughts fly around like bats in the night time; even if he was cheating, could you not push it aside for the sake of a summer fling? Logical thoughts cross out that of the intrusive ones - of course not, how could you be the other person in his relationship for the sake of selfishness? It’s important to be communicative, and if you have your worries - suspicions - then should you not speak to him about it? Sometimes things are better left unsaid, yes, but this is not one of them.

With a new resolve, you decide to talk to him come the evening. Clarification is what you need, and you must bolster up the courage to get it.

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush

You know what they say about alcohol, it’s liquid courage, and after a glass of wine or two, you finally feel bold enough to approach Taeyong. You open your hotel room door, and cross the hallway to his. A sharp rap on the door brings you to Taeyong’s attention, and he pads across the room to open the door. You stand near the threshold, looking almost alarmed, like a deer in headlights. Perhaps you came underprepared and unrehearsed. “C-can I talk to you?” You ask, words stuttering on their way out. “Of course, come in.” He replies gently, sensing your unease as he gestures for you to come in.

Once you’re both situated on the balcony in those damn uncomfortable plastic chairs, you begin to talk. “Do you have a partner, Taeyong?” You fiddle with your hands, eyes glued to them in aversion from his eyes. “No, why?” He replies, head cocked to the side in confusion. “When you went to the bathroom the other day, your phone was on the table directly in front of me, and pardon me for breaking your privacy, but I couldn’t help but read the preview of the message that came up. It said “missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy paris,” and then there was a love heart at the end. I’ve probably got the wrong end of the stick, but I’ve been so cautious because I don’t want to be that other person in a relationship. I don’t think you’re lying to me, I just wanted to be sure, and ask you since it’s been bothering me.”

Taeyong takes a hold of your hand in his and smooths his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. “I promise darling, I’m not dating anyone. That was my crazy ex. I broke up with her roughly six months ago, and she’s still sending me random messages. The only reason why she knows about me being in Paris is because she keeps hounding my mother for information. She keeps mentioning about me being back in her life, but I promise to you that I have no intention of even seeing her or speaking to her. She’s a mad woman.” At his words you feel tension release inside your chest. Your body feels lighter and you feel a wave of relief. Thank goodness for that.

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that Taeyong, and thank you for clearing things up. None of this is my place but, I appreciate you filling me in.” Now you look into his eyes, the dark earthy spheres look back at you as the remaining sunlight gives them a glossy shine. You smile back and he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You drink him in now, no longer hesitant to taste him. To him you taste so heavenly, the remaining mature hints of red wine mixed with something inherently just you, has him high with the feeling. He moves his hands to your waist now and you climb onto his lap, eager to be closer to him, to touch him. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt in his grip as you kiss down his neck now, lapping at the warm tan skin. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, and you nod in agreement.

Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue,

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession, Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor, Use our eyes, throw our hands overboard.

The morning light spills into the room through the translucent dainty cream curtains as they flow in the wind. The window is open to let the summer air flow in, and you don’t feel a chill at all. Taeyong’s warm skin radiates a heat you’ve never quite experienced, it’s so homely and cosy. The feeling of your head on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat unlike any other else. It’s nice to just be held, to feel the closeness of another human being and feel utterly comfortable.

You think back to the portrait of him you painted yesterday, and somehow you think it’s your best piece. There’s nothing like being able to capture a person with the aura whole. The piece emits something wholly him, just him. You think that’s why it might be your favourite. Maybe someday they’ll hang it in the Louvre, you giggle to yourself at that thought and Taeyong stirs underneath you. “What’s so funny, baby?” He asks, spoken with a gruff morning voice low and gravelly. “I was thinking about your portrait, and I thought about how you could hang it in the Louvre. But only because it’s you.”

“They’ll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” He replies, a blissed out look on his face. He’s right, maybe not about yourself, but about him. He might just be the ultimate muse.

But we’re the greatest

They’ll hang us in the Louvre

Down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre

thank you for reading! this fic is for the ‘Now Playing’ collab by @haechanblr and it was a joy to take part!! I hope everyone liked this hehe :))

If ur interested in more of my works my masterlist is here <3

84 notes · View notes

silver-renjun · 4 years ago

Text

Cafe 7 Dream: Haechan

Word Count: 2, 227

Warnings: violence, stabbing

Read the prologue before reading this!

You walked in to your 8 am class, late as usual. A bouquet of roses was waiting for you at your seat. You picked up the bouquet and read the note attached to it.

You’re the most beautiful person in the world. You light up my life like nobody else. - Haechan

You took your seat and shot a confused look towards Haechan.

“What’s with the One Direction lyrics, dude?”

“No y/n, you’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to say ‘Oh my gosh Haechan, you’re so perfect! I want to go out with you!’” Haechan shook his head in disappointment.

“Dude, I told you this wouldn’t work,” Jeno said.

“y/n’s too dumb to figure it out,” Renjun added. “y/n’s only going to get it if you’re direct.”

“Ugh, you’re right. Why’d I fall for someone so clueless?” Haechan rolled his eyes at you. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Sure, whatever,” you answered. You secretly had a crush on Haechan for months, but you did want to be teased by him. Even now that you had a date with him, you were still wary about opening up to him.

Your mind was on Haechan for the entire class. It usually was, but today you had more to think about than just his beautiful honey skin. You wondered why he suddenly asked you out, where he was going to take you, and if you two could really have a sucessful future together.

“y/n! Don’t stop taking those notes! You don’t want your boyfriend to fail, do you?”

His voice snapped you out of your imagination. Perhaps the key passing this class was all that you were to him. You shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself.

You spend your day at the cafe working with Mark. The two of you were icing cakes. Haechan was in the back of the cafe baking them. You couldn’t keep in your questions about him any longer.

“Mark. You and Haechan work together the most, right?” you asked.

“Yeah. This is about him asking you out earlier today, isn’t it?” Mark replied. You nodded. “I know the guy is weird and all, but I think he’s pretty genuine when it comes to his feelings.”

“You really think so?” you said with a smile.

“He’s kind of had a crush on you for a while, so yeah. I’m actually surprised he didn’t ask you out earlier.”

You continued your shift with a smile, thinking about what Mark had told you. Maybe Haechan was a sweet guy after all, you just had to give him a chance. After all the customers were gone and cleanup was over, you made your way out the cafe door.

“Hey! Wait y/n!” Haechan screamed, running after you. “You weren’t trying to get away from me before our date, were you?”

“We’re going on the date now?” you said with a shocked expression.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell yo-” Haechan’s voice became quiet after he realized he had never told you the details of the date. “Well anyways, let’s get going.”

Haechan took you to an Italian restaurant. It wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it was definitely fancy for two broke college students. After a short wait, the two of you took your seats by the window.

“This place is beautiful, Haechan,” you said, trying to break the ice between you too.

“If you think water stains and ketchup is beautiful, then sure.”

“I was just trying to be friendly,” you replied with a laugh. “What’s beautiful to you Haechan?”

“Well besides, you?” Haechan gave you a smirk. “I think magic is the most wonderful thing in the world.”

“Like, card tricks?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, not like card tricks. Actual magic. Powers, potions, stuff like that. It’s all just crazy to me, yet so perfect.” Haechan had a look of wonder in his eyes.

“You don’t actually believe in magic, right? You know those are just fairytales,” you said with a smile.

“Magic is real, y/n. The cafe is literally run by magic. How do you think we get so many customers? There’s a love potion in our food to get people to come back. That’s Jisung’s specialty, by the way. He’s a wizard. And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. And Renjun’s an oracle.”

“Oh yeah, right. And this place is controlled by magic too,” you said rolling your eyes.

“It is. Do not eat the mushrooms here. I had to learn that the hard way,” Haechan said with a dead serious expression.

“What, do people with magic abilities just naturally gravitate towards food service?”

“Well Chenle’s parents are like, super big deals in the magic world, so what they do is what’s popular.”

“And what powers does Chenle have?” you asked.

“I don’t really know. It’s kind of a safety concern for his family to just share what abilities they have. They only use them when they’re in serious danger.”

“What about Mark and Jaemin?” You didn’t know why you were so curious, since you didn’t even believe the things he was saying.

“Regular people. Just like you. Well, actually they’ve been exposed to magic for their whole lives, so I suppose they’ve got an advantage over you.”

“And what about you? Since you know so much about magic, why don’t you show me some?”

Haechan paused before answering your question. “I don’t exactly have my powers yet. But if you still don’t believe me, I’ll have Jisung show you some magic tomorrow.”

“Great.” You didn’t really believe what he was saying, but you didn’t want to argue with him either. Like Mark had said, Haechan was a weird guy. You figured that this whole magic thing was just something he did to calm his nerves. After all, he did have a crush on you for a while.

The rest of the date went wonderfully. You and Haechan discussed everything from movies to your childhoods. You enjoyed Haechan’s wit that kept the conversation alive. There was never a dull moment between you two. At the end of the night, Haechan took you home to your apartment.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight,” you said with a smile.

“Me too, baby, me too,” was all Haechan said before he pulled you in for the most passionate kiss you had ever hand. It felt as if time had stopped. Haechan only let go after he saw you struggling for air. With that over, Haechan left as if nothing had happened.

The next day at the cafe, the boys were begging to hear about your date with Haechan.

“How’d it go?” Jaemin said.

“Did he make a fool out of you? Is that why you’re not saying anything?” Chenle asked.

“Come on Chenle, you know better than that. He probably made a fool out of himself first,” Renjun replied. The dreamies erupted into laughter.

“Well the first thing we discussed was magic. y/n doesn’t believe in it,” Haechan finally piped up. The boys became silent and exchanged concerned glances. “Guys, I told her about your powers. It’s not like we could have kept it a secret with her working here all the time.”

“I’ll show you some magic, y/n. Haechan told you what I do right?” Jisung said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, you’ve got a thing for potions,” you answered.

“I prefer wizard, but you’re still right.” Jisung grabbed a bottle with a blue liquid from under the counter. “This is liquid joy. It’ll instantly take you to the happiest moment in your life.”

Jisung poured you a cup and handed it to you. You took a sip and were instantly transported to a wedding. You didn’t remember having the happiest moment of your life at some stranger’s wedding until you looked at the couple getting married. It was you and Haechan. Before you could take a closer look, you were back at the cafe.

“Wow. That’s actually crazy.”

“So you believe in magic now, right?” Haechan asked. You couldn’t muster up the strength to reply. You were still trying to process what you had seen.

“So what’d you see, y/n?” Mark asked.

“I, um, uh-” was all you could come up with.

“Probably just some stuff from childhood. You guys know how strong that stuff is,” Jeno said. You smiled at him for saving you from an awkward situation.

You spent your shift working with Haechan, which was exhausting to say the least. Nothing you did was up to his standards.

“It’s okay if you suck at baking, y/n. I still love you,” Haechan said before planting a kiss on your forehead. A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘disgusting’ came from the dreamies.

It became a habit for you and Haechan to go on dates after work. He showed you around all the restaurants owned by magical beings. One night, this list included his own apartment.

“You said we were going somewhere fancy tonight,” you said as you sat down on his sofa. “Your apartment is a dump.”

“Well your idea of fancy is a goblin-owned Italian restaurant, so you shouldn’t be talking,” Haechan replied. Within a matter of minutes, he whipped up a small dinner for the two of you. He sat down next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“You know, you asked me about my powers on our first date,” he said in a soft tone.

“Yeah,” you replied. You didn’t know where the conversation was going, but you were interested in hearing more.

“There is one way for me to get my abilities immediately, but I’d need your help.”

“Sure!” you replied.

“There’s this ritual that will help awaken my powers. I need the blood of a human to do it, though.” Haechan paused to examine your face.

“And I’ve got plenty of blood! What are you waiting for?” you said. Haechan was shocked at your enthusiasm to offer your blood. As weird as the situation was, you wanted to help your boyfriend in any way you could.

“Okay baby. I need you to lie down on the floor and I’ll get things started, alright?” Haechan got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen.

“I feel like I’m in one of those stories. I’ve got a hot, vampire boyfriend who needs my blood,” you said with a laugh before you laid down on the ground.

“I’m not a vampire y/n. Those guys give me creeps,” Haechan replied. He stood in front of you with a knife in his hand. “I promise I’ll make it as quick as possible.”

Haechan leaned down and pierced your skin with the knife. You screamed as the cold, metal blade dug into your leg. Your screams frightened Haechan, causing him to push deeper. His terrified face was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. You were surrounded by the dreamies. Haechan was sitting by your foot side, crying.

“Did it work? For Haechan?” you asked the boys.

“It did. He’s a fire demon,” Jeno answered.

“But that’s not important right now. He put you in danger!” Jaemin screamed.

“I wanted him to gain his powers,” you said quietly.

“Those rituals are so risky! Summoning your powers like that, you might go haywire!” Chenle yelled.

“But he’s okay, right?” you asked.

“Will you stop worrying about Haechan for one second! He used you! He put you life in jeopardy for his own benefit!” Renjun shouted at you.

“y/n, I didn’t mean it. I just thought maybe I could try not to hurt you, and I didn’t even think you were going to agree with it anyways, and I should have known better, oh my gosh. Renjun even had a vision where I hurt you and I didn’t even listen to him, I just though maybe-” Haechan babbled between tears.

“Renjun had a vision? You knew this was going to happen and you still did it? You knew I was going to get hurt and you didn’t even try to protect me?” you screamed.

“I’m so sorry, please just forgive me, I really tried to not hurt you, I was wrong, I didn��t mean for it to be this way,” Haechan cried.

You couldn’t stand to see your boyfriend in pain. You thought back to what Mark had told you about Haechan. His feelings were genuine.

“I forgive you.”

“What? Oh my gosh, y/n, I’ll never let you get hurt again, oh please, I’ll never leave your side, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life, I’ll-” Haechan threw himself into your lap.

“It’s alright, Haechan. I know baby, I know,” you said as you hugged him and patted his head.

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