#the only reason it's taking so damn long is because none of the literature i need for citations is easily available online

[umilily]

i don't think there are any words for how much i hate doing literature research.

[khuzena]

Waiting room

Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader

Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.

Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?

A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳

Dr ratio

He's a simple man, really.

Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.

Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.

Is what you initially thought.

It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”

He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.

Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”

Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.

“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”

He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”

Insane?

“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did.”

He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”

Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.

He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.

“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.

Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.

Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?

“Veritas.”

You call out once.

“Veritas!”

Again, in anger.

“Veritas”

The last time, desperately.

He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”

You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”

“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”

“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”

Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.

For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.

He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.

Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.

“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.

You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”

“Which one?”

“None of your business.”

Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.

“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”

That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.

“You are more childish.”

“How so?”

“You— do I even have to explain it?”

Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.

“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.

He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”

“I'm tired of asking”

Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.

He stays quiet.

“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”

“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.

The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”

“What?”

“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”

It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.

He does not answer.

“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.

So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.

Aventurine

He loves you, he really does.

His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.

Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.

It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?

“Darling! I got you a gift!”

The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.

You look like a doll, his doll.

But you are not a doll, you are human.

And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.

“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.

“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”

“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.

You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.

You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.

“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”

Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.

“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”

It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?

He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.

“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?

You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”

”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.

“You said that too last month,” you scoff.

He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”

There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.

”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”

You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.

You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.

”Okay”

You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.

Sunday

Love, what truly is love?

Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?

Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?

or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?

Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.

Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.

Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.

The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.

He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.

Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.

To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.

You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.

But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.

He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.

”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.

You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”

”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.

“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.

He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”

”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.

He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”

Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.

“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”

”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”

He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?

There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”

What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."

Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."

Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."

When will you stop acting like a child?

The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.

His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.

"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."

You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.

His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.

You are still here with him.

He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."

"You'll never leave me too."

It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.

You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.

On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.

Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[kaija-rayne-author]

Veilguard article thoughts.

Obligatory 'I'm not an asshole' disclaimer. Feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm was media blackout while I played this. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Note. None of my writing on DA, but especially DAV, is edited. This is just my off the cuff writing. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

Though., every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

FWIW? I'm not one of the people who complained about DA2 and DAI. There's a pretty brown-nosing article running around that I'm not going to dignify with a repost.

It's another of those 'if you didn't like DAV it's your fault' nonsense pieces I suspect BioWare of paying for.

I only started playing DA around 3 years ago. And I've never been in Fandom spaces for pretty much anything.

So what's their bullshit paid and/or copium reason for why I hated DAV?

Wasn’t in Fandom spaces. Didn't play the games or say a negative thing about them when they came out. Only bought them near release. Loved The Keep. (I had my first kid not long after DAO came out. I didn't game except for ones I could drop really fast if a kid needed me for like, 10 years.)

I'm an editor and writer by trade. A good one, I'm extremely media literate. I have actual degrees in some of the media critique stuff. (English, Creative Writing, English Literature) and I have two braincells to rub together.) Some days, it's only two, but you win some, lose some.

Whoever spewed that article really loves binaries. It's not an either/or, love/hate, you're smart if you agree with me/dumb if you don't, you're with me or against me situation. Two things can be true. Even more!

I can be completely unhappy with the crappy writing in DAV and still appreciate the good things I did like about it.

I can be truly happy for people who enjoyed it, even if I hated it. I actually wanted to love it, y'know?

I can want a morally grey game with choices that actually do matter (no choice actually matters in DAV), and be against those awful things depicted in said morally grey game in real life because it's bloody fiction.

I can want a struggle for the elves freedom, without supporting enslavement IRL. Because completely brushing the morally grey and politically sticky issues previously set out in the games under the carpet leaves a very unsatisfying ending.

And yes, DAV is sanitized. It's disney-fied FFS! The devs were so afraid of complaints that they went way too far into mediocrity for my taste. And whoops, here the game is getting complaints anyway, because they were essentially cowards, instead.

When it comes to crafting entertainment, you have to keep the parable of the old man, the son, and the donkey in mind. You can't please everyone no matter what you do.

Gasp! I can even want the veil to come down, because in the Lore, (you know, the Lore they either retconned into illogical insensibility, or completely ignored? In favour of bum rushing us through a story that made no damned sense and was just badly written?) Anyway, in the ignored Lore, it's clear the veil is strangling both magic and life out of THEDAS. And that doesn't make me an awful person. 1. Because the Lore is clear. 2. Because saving the actual world (even in a game) is a good thing. 3. Because it's fiction.

It's so hilariously ironic that someone complaining about the lack of media literacy about DAV critiquers while writing that article exposed their own so ridiculously. 🤣

I legitimately don't care if you liked it or hated it. I did a review series under media blackout for DAV. I've never complained about much in the DA universe until DAV tbh. I don't fit any of those either/or binary choices in that article. So explain why I hated DAV.

Something I do care about? I do care if you're being an asshole or a decent person to other fans. Stop being dickshits to each other over a video game. I love gaming and it's an important part of my life. None of us are in kindergarten. Act like adults FFS (unless you're not actually an adult.)

Kindness is usually the right choice. No one truly understands what another person is going through. A kind word or a not-posted comment can make a world of difference.

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

rdr2 as teachers

Dutch van der Linde: teaches social studies and sometimes history, goes on weird rants about his ideologies, he grades on a whim, students have a love hate relationship with him, is the principal but he really shouldn't be

Hosea Matthews: chill geography teacher that used to also teach physics, is generally good but his homeworks are usually hard to understand, you will get a good grade if you show effort and talk to him, leads an afternoon drama club and was a principal for several years

Arthur Morgan: teaches english literature but also pe and also sometimes physics? He also taught math for a year when times were rough. Everyone knows him and he knows everyone, thinks he's not a good teacher but students act good and get good grades with him (they're intimidated), sometimes hangs around in afternoon art clubs

John Marston: math teacher on an art school (yes this specific), none of his students will ever study math so why should he try, let's everyone pass as long as they're not acting up, usually late to class but no one cares

Javier Esquella: music teacher and an extra for spanish classes, his students only sing in his class, no work unless you make him mad, is known for talking shit about other teachers in spanish

Bill Williamson: PE teacher who yells at his students too damn much BUT is actually ok to meet outside of school, will get drunk with his (of age) students on field trips

Micah Bell: the teacher that got kicked out for students complaining, still shows up on some school actions because Dutch always asks him to help with making sure they act right

Charles Smith: really smart chemistry and biology teacher, actually explains it well, strict but students love him type,leadss the longest routes on field trips with Arthur, they usually make them even longer

Sean Macquire: Teacher assistant, no one knows what exactly he studied, just hangs around, will trashtalk teachers without asking, tells students the curent drama happening between staff

Lenny Summers: Teacher assistant finishing up his studies to become history teacher, popular with the students, has lots of energy, sometimes takes over classes when teachers are sick or tired

Sadie Adler: PE teacher who goes hard but also will force you to not participate after you get hurt ("I DO NOT CARE YOU JUST GOT HIT AND YOU BARELY STOPPED THAT NOSEBLEED SIT DOWN."), no one knew that she had a husband until he one day randomly picked her up from school, once got drunk on a prom and finally told her students about her life

Karen Jones: Chemistry teacher who breaks all lab rules, mainly shows them the fun stuff, the rumor is that she knows how to make alcohol very easily, also leads the afternoon drama club with Hosea

Tilly Jackson: Works in the office, helps students with paperwork or with anything they need to, is one of the reasons the school is still running because she fixes Dutchs paperwork mistakes

Mary-Beth Gaskill: english-literature and english language teacher, is the one to help rewrite the plays for the drama clubs, overall helps them a lot, has an after school reading club, they read mainly female and lesserknown authors

Uncle: janitor, doesn't do shit, just hangs around the school, will yell at you for walking inside in outside shoes, no one takes him seriously, some students have a habit to say "I didn't do my homework, I have lumbago!" because of him, mainly in Johns class

Abigail Roberts: Also works in the office, taught math for a year (that's how she got to know John), refuses to fix Dutchs mistakes, small Jack hangs around in the school sometimes, students like him and play with him

Susan Grimshaw: The main lady in the office and also the vice-principal, students thought she and Dutch were maried LMAOO, she shot down those rumors real fast, students either love her or hate her

Pearson: school cook who also has an afternoon cooking class, sometimes forces his students to answer yes chef, smells weird and tells weird stories

Leopold Strauss: German teacher who also takes care of the school money and makes lectures once a year about finance world, the students don't like him but some respect him in a sense that he knows how money works and teaches them real stuff

Josiah Trelawny: randomly shows up and gives lectures about whatever, no one knows if he actually works here or not, does he even have a title? does he have any idea how to teach? The students find him hilarious, also ALWAYS shows up for students proms and somehow knows who your parents and siblings are

Orville Swanson: Teaches social studies with focus on religion, nearly got kicked out several times for going to school drunk, did cry once in class

Kieran Duffy: Biology teacher, half of the students ignore him, the other half pity him, hangs around the book club because of Mary-Beth, the students ship it, once ranted for an entire class about horses

Molly O'Shea: Dutch hired her just because she's pretty, she teaches music and art mainly, eventhough she studied literature, but Susan refuses to give her other classes (she was mad at Dutch for bringing her to school), she is the teacher students have a crush on

[formulatrash]

What's your take on the hockey booktok thing? Since you mentioned it on twt

my initial take would be that all these people scare me so much I don't want to get into it but also people keep messaging me to be like did you know people ship carlando" off the back of it and yes. I did know that.

my understanding of what's happened on booktok, which I absorb any information about only twice a year during whatever version of this is blowing up at the time, is pretty limited. partly because I'm not on tiktok and partly because I can't read. but the crux of it seems to have come down to people writing disgustingly thirsty comments on a hockey player and his wife's posts, regardless of what they were about, somehow feeling empowered to be horny not just on main but in someone's face because of booktok.

that's, clearly, not remotely acceptable. if there are communities of people out there that thirst about me I don't know about them (although the cold tendrils of horror about the Wikifeet page have just gripped me and no, oh god, that isn't the phrase I should've used at all get me out of here) but there are loads of people who fucking hate my guts. that's like, fine, it's their own business; if they keep it on discord or whatever and away from me it doesn't do me any harm. lord knows, I have committed the act of hating and indeed being horny, sometimes simultaneously, when I was at a safe enough distance for none of the subjects to ever know.

this is a thing about fandom. if you post "Max Verstappen looks breedable" on here then he's extraordinarily unlikely to ever see it or probably know what it means. if you comment that on Kelly's instagram posts, even if you don't like her and even if that's for valid reasons, that's very different.

as I gather it, the booktok thing has exploded into RPF in general. which, I gotta say, RPF and sexually harassing a dude and his family are in fact very different things. one has a rich history, both as actual ways of telling history (Anthony and Cleopatra: RPF, Chernobyl: RPF, the god damn Gran Turismo movie is RPF about an uncomfortably large number of people I know IRL and to be fair it looks like it slaps I'm gonna see it) and as a longstanding artform. RPF's history of horny is even extremely longstanding, with obscene RPF being used by both the French and Russian revolutionaries to undermine the concept of royal divinity.

RPF is political because it involves an interpretation of real events and people. and the perspective from which that's written will always be political. RPF can, certainly, be feminist; there's quite a lot of retellings of classical stories that fit this. RPF can, also, be fucking weird horny shit. or terrible man takes. or incredible, tender, queer retellings; Kaz Rowe's graphic novel about real-life surrealist Claude Cahun is an obvious example of the latter. Pride, the film about the miners' strikes and the AIDS crisis, is another.

so yeah, it is a legitimate and recognised form of literature and art and also uhhhh. well. I mean the omegaverse is definitely recognised, legally, in court because of that one case but I don't know that even its fiercest enthusiasts would really be all that keen on describing it. not as like, literature or anything just I think most people would rather literally never have an IRL conversation about that. ever.

I'm not 1000% clear on how carlando got into this but clearly that's broken containment a long time ago anyway. when you had Sky doing love heart interviews 15 races into them being teammates or whatever, there was an obvious amount of gay chicken being played by the producers that frankly, as a queer person in motorsport, I'm a lot more comfortable with the fan version of.

no, obviously, I do not think they are dating - or want to think that tbh - but frequently-queer fans projecting the wish fulfilment of seeing a kinder and more representative world for their desires, in places hidden from the subjects, is a lot less weird than leering, laughed-at dating questions and milk baths. in an ideal world it wouldn't have to be a secret, yearned-for alternative because things would be safe and open enough for there to be real queer stories everywhere but that, unfortunately, is not the one we currently live in.

wish fulfilment and telling stories are not the same things, necessarily. sometimes you tell the stories to remind yourself it's ok to have wishes or to work out what those even are. I don't think there's anything necessarily harmful about what names the characters have in those, provided the line between reality and any real people's privacy is kept.

clearly, with the booktok thing, that's where things went extremely wrong. generally tiktok as a whole seems to have a very odd perception about other people's agency, whether it's pranking videos or like the girl who filmed people peeing at Spa. if you regard everyday people as content opportunities (spoiler: the law does not think this and particularly in the EU you cannot film people without their consent) then I guess it's easy to slide over to seeing an athlete as a target for what I suspect very few of the people doing it recognised as very unpleasant and invasive harassment.

there's nothing wrong with fancying athletes. there's nothing even wrong with sexualising them, provided you respect some boundaries and provided it's not part of the conditions of their working contracts. there's a lot of difference between there being a discord where, idk, people say Mitch Evans is hot (he is, although somewhat implausibly he genuinely does not know this) and sponsors for female tennis players wanting them to wear revealing outfits and stay skinny or teenage girls being encouraged into provocative photoshoots by people who promise them roles, etc. teenage male athletes being pressured into doing things they don't want to yet or maybe at all to prove they're men, queer athletes being forced to hide who they are or repress it entirely.

would it be a little bit odd to find RPF of yourself? yes. I won't lie, I would judge the characterisation. I already do judge that on the frankly very weird things people write about me. you have never seen RPF as strange as the narratives people will make up about you in the comments of an article about hydrogen and frankly those scare me a lot more than whether someone thinks I'd be assigned beta or whatever.

stumbling across something, rather than having explicit sexual fantasies forced into your face, especially on what's your own social media pages where people you know in real life can see them, is very different though. some people who engage with RPF cross lines, whether that's weird conspiracy stuff about girlfriends being faked or stalking people's friends accounts etc.

RPF doesn't inherently cross lines, even when it's public; there's a very interesting interview here with Jann Mardenborough and the guy who plays him in the Gran Turismo movie about, among other things, portraying a fatal crash he was involved in. clearly, Jann is not only aware of but is the executive producer of what's ultimately fiction about himself and there's an ownership there, of course. but some parts of the movie are made up, for sure.

obviously I'm like, the not-very-secret infiltrator here because clearly I am On Tumblr and know what AO3 is. I follow a bunch of people who write fanfic because they also make nice gifs of my favourite blorbos and I like to think we can all make peace with our own boundaries about that kinda thing. also I read every single Shane/Ryan fic in like 5 weeks and honestly, not going to apologise except to myself for persisting with a few that didn't pay off.

but like: you do not have to make RPF or any fandom activity unethical. the way you conduct yourself does that and some people step way out of line.

[fleurlia]

here is part two of this.

[7:13 pm] for all the phases you have been through in the past few months, all of them were disastrous. a couple of months after jeno has told you about his proposal karina and he appears with new rings, explaining to everyone how both just choose to make things more swiftly and not wait until graduation.

you already knew it but that didn't stop you from spending at least twenty minutes crying pathetically in the ladies' room.

certainly when you thought things couldn't get any worse, believe me, they did. you were convinced for the moment karina asked you to help her choose the dress. again, you couldn't blame anyone against yourself.

renjun and donghyuck stood next to you, holding their laughs as she was asking for help in the most loving way. just for when she was gone the duo were shouting loud and attempting to comfort your poor heart. following that, you saw yourself sat there watching karina trying on more than a thousand wedding dresses, for getting married to the love of your life.

it would be easier to hate her if she was a bitch and 20% less attractive. you thought.

and talking about him, you couldn't even hold his gaze without looking weepy and bitter. your friendship existed only by devices, which you believed would be turned off the moment he said yes to her.

after a year of planning and torture, the big day has arrived and even though you have created every possible excuse, none seemed good enough to not going to your best friend's wedding. including a sweet smile, your mom comforted you as you got ready for the wedding, holding up tears and making yourself at least looking attractive on the worst day of your life. you asked more than once for your mother to be merciful and to fake an accident but she keeps telling you how could you get over it if you didn't see "the dead body".

instructed to stay at least a few minutes late, you made everything possible to be delayed. not wanting to arrive and have to deal with the reception and face the bride and groom. not craving to deal with the fact that if you held more than five seconds alone with jeno, you would presumably tell him the truth that was stuck in your throat. then when you arrive everyone was already at the ceremony, your entry causing a small noise that drew attention. jeno's eyes catching yours immediately.

the couple looking supremely beautiful, like always. the dress that karina and you have picked just not fits her but makes everyone around her look poorly ugly. oh my god, i hate myself so much. that was the only thing going through your mind.

sitting down next to renjun, he sends you a glance. "it's almost ended, i thought you were not coming."

"as if i were that lucky"

he chuckles but gently takes your hands. even though you said more than a thousand times that you didn't want anyone feeling sorry for you, he tried his best to make things a little better.

while the minutes started to grow, your mind stopped a few more every time that ceremony got close for the "yes". holding up every tear you possess in your body, you almost failed as the old lady next to you smile in your direction and whispered;

"what are you from the groom??"

"i... i am his best friend, since freshman year at college."

"oh, that's why he is looking right here all the time."

quietly you agreed with her, not even daring yourself to look up and catch all of his stares. the moments pass with you staring to anywhere, you couldn't even look at them without feeling your chest squeeze in sharp pain.

"so lee jeno, do you take this woman as your wife to lover her, respect her, and looking for her?"

wishing to not stand there or even existed, you were close to starting to crying but renjun squeezed your hands and all that people heard at next was; "yes, i do."

lee jeno, the love of your life just got married... but it's was not whit you.

later on, — this including the time you spent crying and sobbing in the car — you were supposed to go to the celebration and that's is what you did as a supportive friend.

the first hour was going like a blink, you have to pretend so much happiness that the idea of the newlyweds just got blanked out of your mind. it was the last straw when jeno's sister approached you with a gentle smile, you could feel her pity just by the look on her face and you felt even more miserable when she said it in a low tone: ''i always thought that on a day like today, you would be my new sister.''

that hurt so much.

the rest of the night passed like a blur, a slow and painful blur. you had taken so many pictures and you were sure that you looked ridiculous in the picture with the bride and groom, donghyuck and renjun were there to support you but your false happiness was quickly destroyed by jeno's stares.

almost at the end of the celebration, everyone full of the food and tired from the dancing, people decided it was time for the speeches and in the crowd of invited people you hid behind your friends. if by any chance the universe hated you that much you would be chosen to give some words and you were ready to make a whole speech based on rose's in "love, rosie". it would be tragic.

karina's mother said beautiful words to the couple and praised jeno so much that you at that moment felt happy for him. many relatives passed by, all of them talking about how perfect they were for each other and at end wishing them happiness. you felt like a jealousy bitch at every second.

almost at the end of all your torture, you already agreed that renjun or one of his friends would take you home because you didn't even want to talk, it was the newlyweds' turn to speak. karina sounded so perfectly in love with every word she spoke out. you were thankful to be far away from the couple because your stomach flipped as you watched jeno stand up, straightening his suit and black hair.

you were about to get up and walk away, not wanting to hear about how much he loved her and was grateful to be married to her but after a second thought, you knew you would draw pitying and pitiful glances in your direction.

"i can give you more than a thousand and one reasons about how i ended up here, married to karina." his soft voice echoing throughout the room. "one of them is because sometimes... we don't notice that what we need is right under our noses. sometimes we even notice... but only a few people dare themselves to confess their love to that person.'' at that point nobody else understood where he was getting at with that speech. just like all evening, you didn't attempt to look at him and be unlucky enough to find him also watching you.

''one more reason why we are here, on this particular night, is that maybe i took too long to realize, waited for too long. i wish i could confess this earlier because... deep down i always knew it was you. the love of my life and my best friend.''

something inside of you clicked. back when you started to date, jeno looked you up one day and you fought, he was just being jealous that your then-boyfriend also claimed to be your best friend and you didn't say anything, the point is that he would never call karina his best friend. on that day, both promise never forgets about their besties and never, never calling anyone ''best friend''.

nobody knew about that.

"if... if i could only go back in time... maybe i would tell myself how i should confess to you.'' you looked up, getting his gaze. you stood surprised when you noticed that his eyes were tearing up. ''if only i had known that we would be here today. i never would have let your lips leave mine years ago, on new years'. i never should have walked away. i never should have panicked. i never should have lost all those years without you... because i've realized that no matter where you are or what you're doing, or who you're with, i will always honestly, truly, completely love you.''

you couldn't believe in your damn bad luck.

you couldn't discover what was more pathetically tragic. the fact that karina would watch the video of her wedding in the future and see her husband confessing his love to someone who wasn't her. or the fact that jeno had chosen his wedding day to acknowledge that he loved you.

karina never kissed him on new year's, their first one was in a cinema. only you did, once in your second year as friends. you two never spoke about it.

karina didn't like romantic comedies, she was a literature major and only liked movies that was focussed on classics. you did. you had made jeno watch "love, rosie" so many times that you both knew the script.

with tears rolling down their cheeks, the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like hours. he loved you too. you both now knew about the other's love. inaudibly while you wiped your tears you both agreed that; maybe in another time, another life, we were meant for a happy ending. but not here, not at this moment.

but it didn't matter, only you two knew how much you loved each other and always would.

ok guys, sorry for making this so long and for any mistakes. let me know if you wanted to me doing scenarios, reactions or timestamps or even let my asks open for requests.

[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - two

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: charming javi. (yes he needs his own warning) kissing. making out. doubtful javi. curse words. in thoughts. flirting. a lot of it.

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: the slow burn is here. ugh.

previous chapter · series masterlist

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You made your way through the stuffy bar, eager to finally try a Colombian specialty of a drink. You had done some researching from home, and it excited you. You knew you wanted to try the traditional aguardiente you had read about, and that was exactly what you were going to try.

You propped your elbows onto the counter of the bar, liquids smearing against your elbows as you leaned over the bar to place your order to the bartender. With a nod directed toward you, he places the shot in front of you.

It’s clear as water and with shaky hands you empty the shot into your mouth. It’s strong in your mouth, and you wince slightly at the taste of anise lingering on your tongue. You’re not used to the heaviness of anise and liqueur in this way, and with an intake of breath you’re coughing roughly, having inhaled the fumes stuck in your mouth.

You wince as you hear a voice beside you, flagging down the bartender to get you something to take the edge off your coughing. The music is loud in your ears and you feel slightly uncomfortable in the given situation. You smile warily when something bubbly and orange is placed in front of you, a straw being presented to your lips.

You open them reluctantly before taking a big sip of orange soda. You sigh in content before you take another sip, feeling the way the stranger beside you is eyeing you up and down. You feel the stranger’s eyes linger on your exposed ribcage, barely covered by the silver, glittering low-cut top you’re wearing over your bralette.

“First time tasting guaro?” His voice is smooth as velvet, the words rolling off his lips sensually as he brings his elbow to the bar, leaning his chin against the palm of his hand, watching you as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

For the first time, you turn and look at him. And holy shit. The white button-down he’s wearing is neat, very neat, the mustache on his upper lip so perfectly groomed, his brown eyes watching you intensely as you stand there, possibly looking like a fish out of water - gaping and lacking breaths.

He’s hot, beautiful even, and you’re easily taken aback by the way he moves when he orders a double whiskey for himself. His hair is slightly unruly - tousled to what you would call something between perfect and what would be left after hands had run through it under… Stop it. He’s a stranger, for god’s sake. You bite your lip, trying to slowly compose yourself as he looks away, bringing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“First time in Colombia,” you tell him and take another sip of the soda he’s bought you. The right side of his lips draw up slightly as he nods and you feel a surge of heat go straight from your heart, into your cunt. God damn it he was a sight for sore eyes.

“You up for anything else than a shot of guaro and soda?” You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, with the way one of his eyebrows raises as he turns back to you, but you shrug slightly before moving a tad closer to him, to hear him better over the noisiness of the bar.

“If you’re offering to show me what’s good, then I’m not one to decline.” You retort with a sly smile, grinning inwardly when he braces himself slightly against the bar. You watch as he flags down the bartender yet again, ordering something you don’t hear over the music.

You blink slightly when another six shots are placed in front of you, slightly scaring you. Was he trying to get you drunk and take advantage of you? You weren’t really sure, but… you decided now was the time to get drunk with a stranger in a stuffy bar in a city you just landed in.

“Three for you, three for me.” He says as he moves two at a time, three toward you and three toward himself. “Let me know what you think.” You grasp the first shot in between your fingers at the same time as him and bring it up to your lips simultaneously with him. Then you halt.

“Wait.” You stop, still holding the shot by your lips. You watch as he raises his eyebrow just once, yet again, as if it was the twitch of a muscle. “I don’t even know your name.”

He smirks before letting out a short puff of laughter, shaking his head slightly. You pout slightly at his reaction before you decide to defend yourself. “What? I wanna know the name of the handsome stranger whom I’m about to get drunk with.”

His teeth tug his bottom lip between them swiftly, before you both down your shots at the same time, maintaining eye contact through the whole ordeal. He leans in closer to your ear to shield his words from the noise. You can smell the alcohol radiating between the two of you - you’re not sure if it’s your own breath or his - but it’s good. New. Exciting.

“I’m Javi.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You have no recollection of how much time you and Javi spend at the bar. The two of you hit it off so easily, like you’d known each other for a long time. Maybe it was the alcohol continuously spilling in between you, or the fact that he was charming and transparent with you.

You learned that he was pushing 40, had worked at the Colombian embassy for a couple of years as an agent in the Drug Enforcement Administration, and was currently on leave after a gunshot to the shoulder. He told you it barely hurt anymore, but you definitely noticed slower movements from his injured shoulder.

You also learned he hated being on leave, and that he was better off working his days away than relaxing and being bored, as he said so himself. It was a very last-minute idea he’d gotten, to go out on a Wednesday evening to get drunk, but he made it clear that it was more than worth it.

He told you about how toe-curling he found the telenovelas constantly playing on the only three channels his tv could take in his building, how he almost only listened to American artists like Lionel Richie and Prince (even though The Supremes were his favorites) and how he always had a cup of coffee before and after every meal.

With the number of cigarettes he smoked, you wondered how he was able to keep his shirts so white. Every time he put out one, barely five minutes passed before he’d lit another. You wondered where they kept coming from - if he had a whole carton on him, just for the sake of it. You remembered hearing somewhere that smoking excessively would leave awful stains on everything, but so far, you didn’t see where that statement was coming from.

You told him about yourself too, and how boring you found your parents to be. He laughed with you as you told him one of the most embarrassing moments you had experienced with your parents, which they hadn’t found embarrassing at all.

How you had trouble finding someone like-minded like you. You told him how you hated when your parents would set you up with whomever friends’ sons, they were meeting, as if they could find a perfect fit for you to date.

That was one of the main reasons you hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. Because there just weren’t any alluring men in your city that could be a potential man for you. They were just boys. You weren’t even sure they had proper knowledge about the female genitalia.

You told him that your favorite book was none other than the classic Pride and Prejudice, how you’d read Jane Eyre more than ten times because of the storyline Jane has, which you find so heartbreakingly beautiful, and how you sort of relate to it.

You also tell him about how hard it is getting through uni as an English Lit major, with the period you’ve just finished. “Right now, I hate the renaissance. I mean… Shakespeare is amazing and all but analyzing so many of his works in tow of each other is just tiring.” You sigh and take another sip of the rum and coke in front of you. Javi is listening to you intently, watching your every move as you explain.

“I mean, Cervantes is truly one of the best Spanish writers of all time, and Don Quixote is a masterpiece that deserves all the recognition it’s getting, but I also feel like we’re all oblivious to everything else it stands for.” Your breathing is heavy as you finally stop yourself from rambling and you look at Javi with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m… rambling...” you feel the heat spreading through your cheeks with a giggle, wondering if you’ve scared him off completely by impersonating a waterfall. You can feel his eyes on you when you look away, like they’re trying to get through to something hidden inside you.

“It’s alright.” Your eyes return to his face and there’s that smile again - it makes your heartbeat faster in your chest. “You’re passionate about literature. It’s impressive.” He reaches out, and for a moment you’re sure he’s going to take a hold of your hand. Instead, he diverts his hand when he notices you watching him and brings it back to rub at the back of his neck. He breathes out, whispering out another word you can barely make out. “Impressive.”

“Oh… Okay,” your words are too barely a whisper, and you’re unsure if he’s heard it. You feel all the shyness that hadn’t been present all night slowly seep into your body while watching him through your lashes as he takes another swig of his whiskey before lightning another cigarette.

You silently admire the way the orange hue makes its way toward his lips, slowly dissolving the tobacco. It was almost like art - watching him suck the dangerous fumes into his lungs before exhaling the white smoke. You watch as his fingers tap the body of the cigarette, flicking the spent ashes into the tray on the bar.

He sighs, his hands find back to its original spot on the bar, and you discretely reach out to caress the underside of his arm, where the white sleeve of his shirt is stretched over his tan skin. It’s like the last few hours didn’t happen, and you’re back to strangers. It’s a bold move of you to even reach out for him.

Why did it have to get awkward now? You think as you swiftly play with the hem of his sleeve, watching your fingers as you twirl a thread around them. His hand finds yours and you look up at him, catching the way the lights reflect in his eyes. He has put out the last of the cigarette just seconds before, his exhale still white from smoke.

You close your eyes slightly, enjoying the way the smell of nicotine lingered on him. You had never been one to like the smell of cigarette smoke, but the way he wore it made your nerve ends tingle. What you wouldn’t do to taste the nicotine on his lips. You flick your eyes up, meeting his gaze again.

His face is closer now than when he whispered in your ear, and you find yourself blushing again. You really want to kiss him. His lips look so kissable as well, like… like soft, plump pink rose petals. You felt every sense of restraint disintegrate slowly, while you unhurriedly gather enough courage to lean into the heat radiating off his body.

You’re watching his face as you deliberately lean in, closer, closer, until your lips are resting just over his. You should be disgusted with the smell of his cigarette filling your nostrils, but the way it mixes with the scent of him, you find yourself loving it. Craving it. Wanting more.

“Don’t want to take advantage of you,” he whispers against your lips, the gentle brush of his lips against yours setting your every nerve ending on fire, causing electricity to burst through your limbs. “Want you comfortable,” he breathes again, tilting his head just the slightest before flicking his eyes over your face. “Want to taste you.”

He takes in the gradual reddening of your cheeks and the way your lashes rest against them. “I am comfortable,” you murmur, before tilting your head sparsely, your lips finally meeting his. The feeling that hits you is indescribable, like somebody has ignited a thousand firecrackers behind your eyes and in your body.

It sounds cliché - the first kiss with someone drawing out those reactions in you. It’s the cliché of every teenage romance movie you’ve ever seen, like the way fireworks go off behind them or the casual leg-bend that happens every time. That’s what it feels like, though.

His lips move against yours ever so softly, his tongue gently swiping across your lower lip as his hand finds the side of your neck. The rough pads of his fingers are considerate and tender as they softly caress your skin, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You silence a whimper into his mouth as his tongue finally gains the access it’s begging for, the tip of it gently meeting yours. It’s unfamiliar, both the feeling of a foreign tongue in your mouth and the coarse feeling of his mustache against your upper lip.

It feels amazing, though. Your fingers, previously playing with the sleeve of his shirt, are now gripping the front of it tightly, holding him close. Your heart is beating so loud against your ribcage you’re afraid he’s going to hear it over the deep bass still flowing through the speakers of the club.

You find it hard to breathe, mixed with the breathlessness of kissing him, finally, and the lack of air from you not wanting to breathe into his mouth directly. Your lungs are struggling with the lack of air, and you squeeze your eyes tighter, to hold on for as long as possible.

Your parting comes sooner than you would’ve liked - way sooner - you silently wish that your lips would’ve stayed connected for eternity. His forehead is resting against yours, your breaths mingling in the sparse space between the two of you. You flick your eyes upwards slightly, taking in his closed eyes before they fall again, focusing on the way his shoulders are rising languidly.

Before you know it, he’s kissing you again - pulling you closer to him with one single pull. His arms are holding you tightly, one hand swiftly caressing your back as the other holds the back of your neck, softly caressing your hairline.

This time it’s your mouth that’s insistent on getting another taste of him. Your tongue explores the soft pillow that’s his bottom lip, tasting the lingering essence of tobacco and whiskey. A small moan escapes your lips as his tongue meets yours in the opening of his mouth, pressing against yours to let him back into your mouth.

Your hand comes up to grasp the back of his neck, fingers intertwining in the short, dark brown curls resting at the nape of his neck, urging him on. Your other hand is working its way under the arm that’s holding your body close, landing against his shoulder blade like it’s where it belongs.

His mustache is tickling your upper lip as his mouth ravishes yours in the most intense kiss you’ve ever experienced. Well, it was easy to make out the intensity scale with the two kisses you had ever experienced. This one definitely took the crown.

You didn’t even know how it had come to this point, kissing a stranger on your first night on vacation - well, not exactly a stranger anymore, but certainly not a previously known acquaintance. All you knew was that it felt so damn good, and that you wanted to stay right there in his arms forever.

Your hand slides down swiftly, feeling up the side of his body, and there’s no doubt he’s in shape with the number of tensing muscles you feel under his shirt as he holds you, but it’s also clear to you that he is indeed an older man.

There is a soft bagging over the top of where his belt is resting on his slim hips, and it ignites something inside you, that you hadn’t even thought possible. There’s no doubt this man has experience, but you’re not exactly keen to find out just how much. All you want to do, is to stay lost in the flurry of emotions you’re feeling at this point.

In a shortage of breath from both of you, you finally peel yourselves from each other, taking in the others disheveled state. There’s a slight pause between the two of you, before you both break out into grins, soon thereafter joined by giggles and laughter.

You finish the rest of your drink swiftly, watching him over the rim of your glass before you put it down. “One more?” He smirks and you offer him a smile, before you nod.

“If you’re offering.” You watch as he nods before signaling the bartender again, for the 10th time that evening. You watch as he makes your drink behind the bar before placing it in front of you. He looks between you and Javi swiftly, before speaking up.

“Cerramos en 20” he says, leaving you two again, but this time with a bill in front of Javi. You look it over with a smile, wondering how much you had to contribute with. Javi blocks your view before pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, throwing a good amount of pesos on the bar to cover the bill.

Your mouth falls open when he turns to you, his eyebrow raised at your expression. “He should be the one tipping us for the show we just gave him.” He laughs, and you can hear it comes all the way from his stomach. You can’t help but join in. Well, that’s one way to say it.

“They’re closing in 20. Finish your drink,” he pulls on the leather jacket he draped over the back of the bar stool he’d been sitting on, and damn if that one piece of garment doesn’t suit him startingly. “You mind if I walk you home? I’d like to make sure you’re getting home safe, so I have a chance of seeing you again.”

You can’t help but smile at his question, giggling as you quickly down the drink the bartender has placed in front of you, before you’re getting off the bar stool you were sitting on. “Sure.” You whisper in his ear as you walk out of the bar with Javi hot on your heels.

You can feel his eyes on your hips as you saunter out of the bar, twirling once to see if he’s still following you. He is. And his eyes are trained on you like a hawk on its prey. His lips tug between his teeth as he watches the curve of your body being engulfed in the dim rays of the rising sun.

It’s like you’re some kind of ethereal being right then, sent to him by the gods. He never truly believed in heaven and anything else superstitious before this exact moment in time. Seeing you right at that moment - it changed something within him. He usually did the whole relationship without the aspect of love. Scratch that - he never did proper relationships.

Yet he couldn’t help but think that you, at that moment, could be a part of his future. He felt his heart pick up the pace when you smiled at him, as you reached out your hand for him to take. It was like he imagined what your whole future could look like, right there.

He steps out into the morning light overshining Bogotá as he takes your hand, his eyes reacting poorly to the already brightly illuminated city. He brings a hand to rest against his brows as he halts in his steps, squinting his eyes to get his vision back. As the whiteness clears from his eyes, the first thing he sees is you.

It’s in stark contrast to the dim lighting of the bar - out in the sun he can see just how beautiful you are. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but he feels his heart pick up the pace again. He feels like a teenager again. Your voice fills his ears and at first, he doesn’t really hear what you say. Your plump pink lips are just moving angelically, taking his breath away.

Then you’re pulling him by the hand, and he follows you. He’s amazed that you manage to hurry through so many small passageways, since it’s only your second day in Bogotá. He watches your back the whole time you’re leading him wherever the two of you are going.

He notices a constellation of freckles on your shoulder that slithers its way up the back of your neck, and he finds himself wanting to kiss the skin there. He almost runs into you when you come to a stop, turning to face him with rapid movements.

“How do you still have this much energy?” He breathes - he is out of breath. He watches you, your chest rising rapidly as your smile beams at him.

“You’ve paid for my drinks through the night. Let me repay the favor.” You grin as you gesture toward the small restaurant you’ve led him to. The small restaurant is already buzzing with life, and Javi still has no recollection of what time it is.

It doesn’t really matter when he’s in your company. “I walked past this place yesterday when I was exploring. I wanted to try their pancakes and a cup of real Colombian coffee.”

His hand is still intertwined with yours, and you’re swinging it slightly between you, as if it would help you convince him to let you buy breakfast. He nods then, making you smile even wider.

“Guess I could use a cup of coffee that isn’t homemade.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

The pancakes you’re eating are the perfect combination of sweet and spongy dough. You almost moan when the freshly made syrup-glazed bite fills your mouth. You notice Javi watching you from the other side of the table, and you offer him a close-mouthed smile.

Your cheeks are full of pancakes, and in that moment, he realizes just how young you are compared to him. It unsettles his stomach just slightly - he’s never been one to overthink hooking up with someone, but right at this moment he’s starting to second think his decision.

He’s afraid he’s gonna be the one who ruins you completely with who he is, and the story he has. It’s never been easy for him to have relationships. He even had the audacity to leave his former fiancée at the altar.

He never knew why he was unable to commit himself, yet he found so much hate within him, diverted at himself. He just didn’t understand the impulses he would have. He could fuck three different women in the same day, if he wanted to. He didn’t even know where his libido came from.

He watches you as you chew your way through your sugary breakfast, all while occasionally taking a few sips of your coffee. He sips his own coffee in silence, just observing you as you fill your empty stomach. He should be eating something.

When you finally lean back against the backrest of the chair, your plate cleared and your mouth swallowing the last bite of pancake, you offer him another smile. This time it’s with teeth, though.

He feels his heart beat like that again, and he doesn’t fucking understand why you’re doing this to him. He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way about someone he just met. Yet he can’t help himself.

He watches you without a word, simply observing you as you look around the small restaurant, the street in front of it bustling with life by now and your eyes observing every person walking by.

He admires the way your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip, your tongue most likely finding some residing syrup. It runs over your lips twice more and he feels a jolt run from his heart right into his groin.

It ignites everything inside his body, and he closes his eyes slightly, imagining things he definitely shouldn’t be imagining at this point. He barely knows you. He sort of feels bad. Yet he can’t stop himself.

When he opens his eyes, you’re looking directly at him. “Where did your head run off to?” You tilt your head with a slight smile playing on your lips, and he finds himself getting lost in your eyes again.

This is the first time he’s actually getting to look into them properly. Dazzling orbs are watching him through lashes, compelling him to do things he’s sure he’s going to regret later. He’s simply mesmerized by your eyes. He feels like you can see right through the barrier he’s been working on and putting up for so many years to shield himself from the problems of the world.

“You really don’t wanna know, hermosa.” The words leaving his lips make your heart beat faster in your chest, again, and oh man if this man isn’t going to be the end of you. Even with the little-to-no experience you had, you were sure you would let him do anything he wanted with you.

You scoot to the edge of the chair you’re sitting on, feeling a sudden surge of confidence overcome you as you let your chin rest on your palm. Your foot slowly extends out, finding the inside of his calf under the table before it makes its way north lazily. “Try me. Maybe I’m thinking the same thing.”

He feels a breath getting stuck in his throat. That he definitely did not expect from you. With the little knowledge he had about you, he hadn’t expected you to come onto him so strong. He definitely didn’t mind your interest in him - you were a beautiful woman.

He leans forward slightly, over the table to get closer to you. He doesn’t need the whole restaurant knowing their business. “Maybe I’m not the man for you, hermosa.” Your hand unexpectedly takes his, and he yet again finds himself taken aback.

“Maybe I’ll let me decide for myself.” You whisper to him, before retreating yourself from his personal space. You dig through your small handbag to find your purse, pulling out pesos to cover the bill along with a tip. You rise from your seat with a smile, scooting the chair back under the table.

He’s reluctant to follow your movements, so you speak up. “Were you going to follow me home, or have you changed your mind?” You challenge him as you watch him stand as well. His eyebrow raises slightly at your statement before he signals you to leave the restaurant with his hand.

“So, where do you live?” You ask him as you both leave the restaurant. He walks beside you with his hands deeply buried within the front pockets of his jeans as if he’s scared of touching you.

You walk beside him with your hands clenched at your sides, desperately wanting to touch him again. There’s something infuriating and infatuating about him at the same time. It’s not easy to read him, and he knows it. He loves it.

“I live in one of the apartments ordinated to me by the organization. They have some apartments close to the office.” He tells you, and the rest of the way home to your rented apartment is with small talk between the two of you. You feel the distance between you now, like he regrets the fire he undeniably has started within your body.

You turn to him when you finally stand in front of the small apartment, you’re currently residing in. You offer him a small smile, unsure of what to do at this point. How were you ever going to say goodbye to him? You didn’t really want to.

His fingers move a strand of hair out of your face before he’s grasping your head in his hands again, placing his lips against yours again, finally. You realize by then that you have been craving the feel of his lips against yours, the smell of him once again making its way to your nostrils. Tobacco, whiskey and something you can’t place - maybe sandalwood or cedar.

Your lips move against one another slowly - sinfully - and you catch yourself grasping the front of his jacket within your fists so tightly it hurts. His hands are persistently holding your face close to his, further deepening the kiss.

The kiss leaves you breathless yet again, and you find yourself craving more and more of him. You want to know everything about him. You want all of him. You detach your lips from his with a sigh, your eyes closed as you await something, anything.

Yet nothing happens. When you open your eyes to look at him, he’s already watching you. You turn your body slightly, digging through your handbag to find your key. You unlock the door swiftly as he watches you, slightly out of breath himself. He watches you step into your apartment, feeling a slight sense of anguish at the way you’re not inviting him in. Or so he thought.

“Would you like to come in?” Your words are low and soft as you ask him, almost like you’re afraid he’s going to refuse. Your heart falls in sync with your face, as he hides it in his face. You watch as he rubs his fingers over his eyes with a sigh.

“I better get home. I need to sleep for a bit. I am an old man, after all.” He tells you and watches the way your face falls. You nod though, as if you’re letting him know that you’re alright with it, even though he can clearly tell you aren’t. “I’ll come pick you up later today? Maybe I can show you some of the city.”

Your face brightens instantly, and yet again he has to remind himself just how young you are. He knows already he’s going to hurt you, but how he’s going to do it is unclear to him.

“I would love that. I think I may need some sleep as well.” You say with a smile before you’re stepping back out through the door to place another kiss against his lips. You know by now that you will never get tired of the feeling of his mustache against your skin. And boy were you wanting to feel his mustache against other parts of your skin as well.

“I’ll see you then.” He says as he departs from your front step, and you watch him as he walks down the road, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see if you’re still watching him, before he turns around a corner, and out of your sight.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Request:  student x teacher au fic with lana, billie or cordelia?

Note: Added in a little sparkle with a soulmate AU. Those who are lucky enough to have a soulmate are assigned a necklace with a small pendant. No one knows where they come from or how they’re decided; they just appear and will match your soulmate’s identically. Also, yes the reader is eighteen, and yes there will probably be a part two.

Requests are open!

Your routine was like clock-work; every morning without fail. 5am you would get out of bed and go on a run. There was no reason, really. You weren't someone who was that interested in athletics, it was just a way to clear your mind and wake up your mind and body before going to school and having the energy sucked out of you.

You adored the way the sky looked this early in the morning as you ran through the country park. The heat gave you an extra kick of gratification as you watched the sky dance in colours of orange and pink, painting everything in shades of gold. The sun crept through the mountain like liquid glory and you couldn't get enough of it.

Realising the time, you made your way back to your neighbourhood, waving at neighbours you often saw at this time of morning.

You saw many of the same people on morning runs that you eventually learned by name while running past them, shouting a greeting and waving as you sped past them. This morning, you noticed that the home a few lots down from your own had been purchased; the new inhabitents were outside, speaking with a contractor.

As you ran, you noticed the woman watching you. Breaking your glance, you made a mental note to introduce yourself later.

The shower couldn't come soon enough as you lathered the cool water on your body. Cold showers after a run provided that little extra adrenaline rush that you needed to get you through the day, and boy would you need it today.

After months of persuasion, you had finally given in to skipping the end of school and heading to a gay bar with your friends Emmett and Heather. Being the model student you were, you had declined the offer time and time again; but after catching your boyfriend with another girl and the subsequent break up of one of the most liked couples in school, you decided that now would be the best time for it.

The school day rushed in and at 12pm on the dot, you and Emmett made your way to Heather's car, where she sat impatiently tapping her foot.

"You two took your sweet time," the blonde muttered, pulling on a pair of sunglasses and revving up the engine.

The plan was simple; Heather's parents were out of town for the week so the three of you planned to stay over. Today would be spent getting ready and having a few drinks before hitting the bar in order for you to have a "drink in celebration" for breaking up with your ex-boyfriend.

The bar was lively, and you could smell the mixture of cheap cigarettes, alcohol and weed and hear the music from the street behind. Emmett compared the similarity of the three of you strutting to the bar to the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus.

Heather nudged you yet again, her elbow hitting a nerve in your ribs and making you bounce.

"Will you quit that?" you snapped, realising your fourth cocktail was making you slightly irritable.

Heather glared at you and pulled you over to whisper in your ear. "The brunette at seven o'clock has looked from her phone to you at least four times," she hissed, releasing you and nodding her head in the direction.

You nodded in understanding and gestured for her to tell you what to do. Picking chicks up at a bar wasn't exactly something you were accustomed to, after all.

"Go up to the bar and order something-" she looked at your outift, "-I don't know. Some business casual-sounding drink. Like an Old Fashioned or something. Make a joke about how much you've drank and if she's warm then ask if she's here with someone. Then go in for the kill and Emmett and I will be your wing-people when you break your seal."

"Break my what?"

Heather practically shoved you off your chair.

You shrugged and walked towards the bar, standing close to the brunette, but not close enough so that she knew what you were up to. The bartender approached and you smiled at her.

"Hey, could I get an Old Fashioned pl-"

"And get me another piña colada while you're making your move!" Heather called, acting more drunk than she was in an effort to hint off to the lady. You glared at her, and in return, for some added effect she lent into full view of the lady, shot her a cheesy grin and gave her a thumbs up.

You spun on your heel to see if the lady had noticed, and to your dismay she had. She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

At least she didn't look disappointed.

"Was that for me?" She chuckled, taking a tip from her class. You grinned as casually as possible, looking down at your hands. You finished off your order and paid, waiting for Heather to get her drink to no avail.

"You know what, yeah I think it was for you actually," you replied. Keeping it cool was the buzz phrase Heather had been using all day. "I'm sorry but my friend claimed that she had seen you checking me out a few times and was pretty insistant that I come over and talk to you."

You sat in the stool, leaving one between you.

The lady chuckled. "It's fine," she said, taking another sip. "I'd be grateful for the company."

"You're alone? You're more than welcome to sit with my friends and I," you offered.

You cut off immediately by Heather collecting her drink, standing between you and muttering, "don't you fucking dare," into your ear before walking over to the woman and leaning over her shoulder.

"Now, you see, Ms- I'm sorry what's your name? Jesus, Y/N! When you flirt it's basic manners to ask for a name," Heather muttered.

"It's Lana," she replied, smiling at you.

Lana. A pretty name.

"Awh, that's a lovely name actually, I wish my parents liked me enough to call me something like that. Anyways, enough about me. So, anyways, my good friend Y/N here just got two-timed by a piece of human trash that she's way hotter than and everyone warned her against dating but hey- you know our Y/N, she's balls-ier than a dodgey testical. So, all I'm really gonna say is we came here because we really want to get her laid so she doesn't need to feel like she got the short end of the bargain so, you know-"

At this stage Heather was trying to communicate through a series of dramatic gestures. Emmett strod over, took Heather by the shoulders and apologised to Lana before walking your drunk friend back to your table.

You were both a little shell-shocked and you feared that Heather's drunken rant had ruined any sembelance of a chance that you had with getting anywhere with this.

"I- I'm so sorry. She doesn't get out much," you said. Lana's smile returned as she waved it off.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot younger than twenty-one?" she asked. You couldn't tell if she was being genuine or if she was trying to hint that she thought you were younger than your ID said.

You nodded. "All the time," you say, it's not like that's a lie. "How old are you? If you're not offended by my asking."

"I'm twenty-nine. I hit the big three-oh in November," she replied. Lana reached into her bag and pulled out a box of Newport cigarettes. "I'm sorry, I've had a long day and I'm dying for a smoke. Care to join me?"

You sat still for a moment before excepting the offer. The club was absolutely packed and you could barely follow Lana through to the balcony without getting separated from her. She noticed and turned around, taking your hand and keeping you close so that you didn't get lost in the crowd.

Lana lent over the metal fence, cupping her hand over her lighter. You watched how her cheeks sucked in, defining her cheekbones and her jawline. You mirrored her position against the fence.

"Hard day at the office?" You asked, declining the cigarette she offered you. "Thanks but I don't smoke."

Lana smiled down at her cigarette. "I like a smart girl. Stay away from these for as long as possible," she took a long draw. "And to answer your question; I moved into a new house today only to find out that none of the plumbing was actually installed and contractor has no idea why."

"My house was like that too; turns out the pipes are just in really weird places," you replied. You turned to face in the opposite direction, laying your elbows onto the bar and watching the crowd. "What do you do? Career wise?"

Lana blew out a puff. "I'm a teacher. French and English Literature."

Ah great; a French student trying to hit on a French teacher. This was gonna be a fun story to tell the group.

"You're kidding? I'm studying French," you replied. 

Lana laughed. "Damn, Y/N. This just has to be written in the stars," she replied, you could sent the well-meant underlying sarcasm in her voice. "You think I have that chance?" You ask, your eyes dart down to her hand. Her ring finger, although bare had an imprint on it as if she had only recently removed a ring. She noticed you looking and brought her hand into a fist.

"Don't look at me like that, Y/N. We're getting divorced," she said. She bit her lip and looked down into the woods beneath. 

You felt slightly guilty. "Oh, I'm sorry." Lana shook her head in response.

"I'm in a gay bar for Christ's sake. We definetly weren't compatiable," she chuckled, reaching for another draw of her cigarette. She turned around, some noise in the background catching her attention. Her sleeve dropped a little bit, revealing two bruises at the side of her wrist that she had clearly tried to cover with foundation. Lana turned back around and you dropped your eyes before you noticed, unaware if it was your place to ask.

"If I'm honest, I don't really like bars. I know this really nice café a few places down. Do you wanna come with me?" You asked. Lana's head cocked slightly, her eyes scanned you as if they were looking for some alterier motive. "I'm not trying to get laid, Lana. I just don't like clubs and I don't think you do either."

Lana's shoulders relaxed, as if trying to decide. "Sure," she nodded. "I'd love to."

You walked back in through the bar, telling Emmett what you were doing. He made you promise to turn on your location and to call him to pick you up when you were ready to leave.

"It's nice that you have friends to watch your back," Lana said as you walked down the street. The air was now cold, nipping at your cheeks and nose. Lana slid her arm through yours after asking if it was okay to do so.

The café in question was small; dimly lit, decorated with plants. It was warm inside and the candles lit everything in orange. It was peaceful. You heard Lana sigh with relaxation as you asked her what she'd like to drink.

Two lattes later, you and Lana lay on the same old, green, springless couch. You giggled and talked for what could have been hours.

Lana noticed your Soul Necklace. “I have one too,” she said, touching the stone delicately. “I’ve never worn it though.”

She told you stories from high school and college while you sat and listened to her in some new form of fascination. You could listen to her talk forever. Your head rested on her shoulder, and hers rested on your head. There was an echo of peace which bounced around the both of you.

Eventually there came a moment when you had finally plucked up enough courage in a moment of silence between you to lift her chin with your finger and close in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but you could still rellish the feeling of her lips kissing back against yours in a gentle passion.

She waited on you while Emmett drove back to get you, with an extremely drunk Heather in the backseat. 

"Are you free tomorrow night?" Lana asked before she walked away. You nodded. "Would you like to maybe go out? On a date?"

Her final question was asked with a shyness that you found adorable, and giving her a kiss on the cheek as

The next day you went to school in a good mood. Your run was better than ever. Your breakfast was tastier. The sky was more beautiful. You couldn't contain your giggles as Heather drove you and Emmett to school.

"I cannot believe you've landed yourself a date with a teacher," Emmett said as the three with you walked to your French class. You practically danced down the corridor with happiness. The three of you were slightly late to class.

You pushed the door open harder than you intended, making it crash against the wall with a loud bang. You muttered an apology while your friends laughed at you and the teacher settled them down, chuckling under her breath.

That it until she looked up at you.

And you looked up at her.

Lana muttered a profanity under her breath as she realised that she had asked one of her students on a date.

taglist: @its-soph-xx​

[chillwithaster]

SUMMARY: “Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

RELATIONSHIPS : Albedo/Kong | Aether (Genshin Impact) || Kong | Aether/Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact || Kong | Aether/Venti (Genshin Impact) || Kaedehara Kazuha/Kong | Aether

Please consider supporting me on Ko-fi because im kind of in a need for extra cash to help out my family during the pandemic ! every little bit helps and I'm giving out incentives for donations ! A dollar for a personalized reviewer and study guide or a genshin fanfiction of your choice !

AO3

“Well, this is most unfortunate.”

Venti could already feel the caffeine in his systems fuel his flight-or-fight response as he saw not one but two of his roommates standing outside the library.

He really needed a drink and pronto.

This was supposed to be his shining moment; the ballad to end all ballads; the righteous bard’s claim to a golden prince’s heart after their loveless rendezvous.

Venti had finally gotten the courage to ask Aether out to the Ludi Harpastum Dance – one of the most anticipated events in the entirety of their university. It was known as a Mondstadtian custom that he himself absolutely adored for its flowers, games, cuisines, and especially romantic atmosphere.

It was going to be perfect, really.

But no, Barbatos above and mighty, these – unsultry fiends decided to rain over such a wonderful parade.

“Agreed.” He shot a half-hearted glare at the white-haired male next to him, who had decided to dress-up from his usual plain tees and jeans.

Instead, Kazuha was wearing a half-buttoned black blazer (one that Venti swore was his, mind you) with black skinny jeans and a white polo-shirt. His hair was tied tighter than his usual lopsided ponytail, and Venti swore the other’s glasses had never been cleaner.

Now, though Venti was quite ecstatic to see his friend out of his usual horrendous fashion-style, he was visibly irked by the bouquet of Carnations in Kazuha’s arms.

“Move. You’re blocking the entrance.” The other two broke from their staring contest to find slitted amber hues.

For as long as Venti knew Xiao, even the Contemporary Music major knew his roommate looked good in a turtleneck.

And unfortunately for him, Xiao knew that too.  

Sporting a sleeveless dark green turtleneck and a black leather jacket fastened firmly around his waist, Xiao glared from behind the brown, large toy dragon plushie he was hugging.

“Uh excuse me.” Venti chirped, a hand to his hip to assert his dominance as their senior. “I was here first, mind you. Now buzz off.”

Xiao cocked a brow at him. “Don’t tell me you’re bringing in food to a library.”

The braided boy gawked at him before guiltily looking down at the two boxes of doughnuts in his hands. Boxed in pastel green and white, his warm, delicious, better than what his other roommates could ever bake in their entire life, homemade desserts stared back in shame at the thought of being left behind.

“Of course not!”

Kazuha and Xiao did not believe him.

“Of course…” The Inazuman began before moving past Venti. “Now please excuse me, I need to speak with-“

“Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

Venti turned to his supposed ally as he released Kazuha’s hand. However, despite his fumble, the Cheshire grin on his lips still slashed through. “Yeah. My date to the Ludi Harpastum Dance.”

If looks could kill, Venti would be six feet under.

“Isn’t it quite bold of you to assume he’d want … you?” Kazuha began, scanning him up and down.

“I am offended!” Damn, the senior could feel ten years being subtracted from his time on earth. “And yes I do! Unlike both of you, I’ve known Aether the longest. From all the way ever since he moved here, so that makes me his best friend.”

The other two were not convinced.

“Yeah. Friend.” Venti wanted to hurl something hard into Xiao’s smirk. “And aren’t you more mature than that? For such an old man, you’d think you’d be past using the length of a relationship to measure its worth.”

“I agree with Xiao.” Kazuha hissed from behind, and Venti almost held a high grin at knowing why he was so defensive. Kazuha only had a month in his little pool of Aether interactions, so he knew he stood no chance if that was the criterion. “One’s closeness mustn’t be measured by how much – but rather how well – that time spent together was.”

Venti rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.”

Honestly, he had not expected this. Especially not from these two.

Venti had always assumed that Xiao wanted nothing to do with relationships, especially since Xiao had made it quite crystal clear to anyone that had tried making moves on him that he was not interested. Same goes for Kazuha, who seemed to be more inclined to pour his focus into his studies in Literature rather than pursuing a love life.

But alas, here they are.

“Excuse me.” The three snap out of their heated staring contest to find a mop of kempt blond hair behind them.

Albedo stared at the three suspicious figures with a raised brow. As the junior librarian of the campus, it was his job to make sure students were not loitering outside to cause a mess.

“You’re keeping others from entering. If you have no business here, could you please go back to your dormitories.” His eyes shift to the pastries in Venti’s arms. “No food inside.”

Venti could just hear the snickers from behind him.

“Right, of course.” He started. “Sorry, Albedo.”

The three would have moved to allow the blond entrance had Kazuha not seen the striking figure painted diligently on the canvas in Albedo’s arm.

“Wait.” The albino held a hand to Albedo’s shoulder. “That painting…”

The bright crimson on Albedo’s cheeks was already a dead giveaway.

Venti and Xiao stopped in horror before peering over Albedo’s shoulder. Ah shit.

Drawn with the precision only the famed Kreideprinz could attain was a figure basked in golden locks. The figure’s face was turned away ever so slightly from the viewer, framed by light bangs as soft eyes gazed longingly into the sunset behind them. But even without seeing any other details, the two already knew who this was.

Suddenly, a plushie and a batch of doughnuts just felt sad.

Albedo turned to face the trio, shamefully hiding the portrait behind his figure.

“You like Aether?” Venti began.

“Yes, and what of it?” Albedo brought his jacket’s sleeve to his mouth, covering the bright blush he was harboring. “I don’t believe that I have any reason to be quite ashamed of such…and for you to be so scrutinizing…”

The three stared at him like kicked puppies.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

Albedo stopped and looked at the gifts in their hands.

“Ah.”

The weight of the situation just immediately dawned on the four.

“It seems the captor of ours hearts knows no restraint.” Kazuha sighed wistfully.

Xiao said nothing, but a nod was sufficient.

“…Are you all here to also ask him to the dance?” Albedo leaned on the door.

Even without an answer, he already knew.

“We can’t just go in there.” Xiao sighed. “It’ll end in a disaster, trust me.”

“But we cannot just let such an opportunity pass.” Venti saw how Kazuha was almost ready to barge in the doors for himself.

“Right, right, calm down there, he’s not going anywhere.” Venti offered.

Albedo moved to turn around, and the three watched him peer through the library’s wooden doors.

There seated amongst several stacks of books was their culprit. Aether had a textbook over his head and a whale pillow under his folded arms. With how slow his chest was rising, the four knew he was asleep.

“I should scold him next time. The library is not his bedroom.” Albedo smiled fondly at the figure, and the other three could only stare in defeat.

There was no way they could just barge in there and disturb his peace like that. Especially not when he looks so exhausted. Aether would just be overwhelmed by all their invitations, and the last thing they wanted was to be a burden to their beloved.

“So, now what?” Venti moved out of the way, glancing in confusion at the other three.

Kazuha and Xiao shared a look, but it was Albedo that first opened his mouth.

“We should take him to a date. A proper one. One from each of us. And one where we could help him alleviate his stress and show him a good time.”

The three stopped in consideration.

Albedo continued. “Think about it. He’s quite exhausted. If our feelings for him are genuine, then we should be willing to console him when he needs us the most. And only then – perhaps -  he can decide who he wishes to take to the dance.”

Venti had wished his first date with Aether were under different circumstances.

But at the same time…he isn’t against the thought of spoiling Aether silly. Even if it is shared sentimentally with three other people.

After a moment, it was Kazuha that gave an opinion. “But we should set ground rules. If the purpose of this date to help Aether unwind, it is imperative that none of us ask him to the dance.”

“Why?” Xiao crossed his arms. “Then wouldn’t that just render our dates pointless?”

“Not quite.” Kazuha offered a smile. “Aether’s happiness should come first.”

Xiao agreed in a heartbeat.

“Okay, let’s go with that.” Venti smiled at the prospect.

Yeah, Aether’s happiness is the topmost priority. And if none of them could provide that for Aether, then Venti thinks that none of them (himself included) are worthy of Aether’s kindness!

“But…” His thoughts blank. “Can I go last?”

“Why?” Albedo raised a brow.

“My paycheck doesn’t come until next Thursday.”

If his peers had one thing in common, it was how stupid they could make someone feel just by staring.

“I had to cut back time for my classes, okay? Sheesh!” Venti argued.

“Then that’s settled.” Albedo sighed.

“May I go first?” Kazuha offered, and though none of the other males seemed to object, Xiao was quick to reply with a sharp ‘why’. The albino bashfully chuckled. “There is a musical I have been meaning to bring him to that is in three days. It would be a shame to miss it.”

There were no objections.

Albedo raised an open palm, only to be met with several blank stares.

“A form of contract. May the best man win.”

The blonds lips were quirked upward slightly, and though apprehensive, Venti shook his hand.

Venti wasn’t the smartest person, but he wasn’t dumb either.

He may not know a lot when it comes to studies, but he knows one thing.

When these three wanted something, they would break the earth just to get their way.

“Indeed! May the winds guide you in your endeavor.”

But it also takes one to know one.

[silvia7272]

ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

.

.

No one?

.

.

Too easy?

.

.

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

.

.

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

[rason-rodd]

All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut  

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back.     That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it.           And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.”             All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?”       “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.”         “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?”   “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.”           “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.”         “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face.     “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you.           “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.”         “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …”     “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle.     Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course.             Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest.         “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

           Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?”       It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable.         “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.”         “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself.     “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.”           You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.          

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place.       “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment.  “Never?”           “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper.     “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.”       You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you.           “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms.     Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.”  He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

           As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less.   He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket.       “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise.  “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours.     “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts.           That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt.   He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess”             “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that.     And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.”   “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before.           You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?”             “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes.   You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?”       “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days.       So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes.       “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss.     Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his.     “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Intoxicated

note: this was a request from @dappertapper69 , I hope you like it :)

words: 4238 (oops)

warning: alcohol, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that) hope that’s it

“Focus, damn it! “you told yourself, hastily writing down some notes on your tablet before looking back up to where your boss was standing in front of the white board. It was the daily morning meeting, so you still were a bit tired, but that’s what coffee was for and it was certainly not the reason you weren’t able to pay attention.

It was him, your boss. Right now, he was showing some poll graphic, but your eyes were fixed on his muscular arms and rolled up shirt sleeves. He looked so good when dressed casually, the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and you desperately wanted to run your hand into the neckline.

Yes, your boss was hot, but he was also really intelligent, kind and funny to no ends. The whole package, and your crush on him was big.

But your boss was also Jake Tapper, the lead anchor of CNN Washington, and there was no way he would ever see you this way. No, he was your mentor, and you basically owed everything you had right now to him.

You’ve met about a year ago at a debate Jake was moderating. Covering the event had been the first major job you’ve gotten from the newspaper you we’re working at back then, and while you weren’t really satisfied with print media, you had to take what you could. But meeting Jake had changed your life for real. You had started talking about what you were currently writing about, and you showed him some of the freelance articles you had done in for various political blogs.

He had liked your work, you exchanged numbers and two weeks later, a job offer from CNN Washington was on your desk, assistant producer for The Lead with Jake Tapper. You had to read the letter three times before actually believing it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you had no doubt who was behind it.

You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you directly called Jake to confirm, and two weeks later you were all packed up and ready to move to DC.

Jake went above and beyond to make sure your transfer was smooth in every sense, he helped you find an apartment, gave you a two-hour long office tour on your first day of work and regularly checked up on you in the first weeks to see if you were adjusting. He still did that, to be honest, even now that you’ve worked here for months and had learned the ropes.

But you didn’t mind at all, you have learned so much from Jake, journalism-wise as well as when it came to politics, history and literature. His general knowledge was so impressive, another thing that made him so ridiculously attractive to you.

But considering all the facts, jeopardizing your entire career by making a move at Jake was just impossible. But Lord, you wanted to.

You were so caught up in daydreaming that you didn’t even notice that the meeting was over, everyone already left except for Jake. He was packing up his stuff and looked over to you.

“Y/N, everything alright. You’ve been really quiet today, and you look exhausted. Is there something you need?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Bless his heart, you thought. There was definitely something you needed from him, but you would not go there. And it wasn’t like you could tell him that the reason for your exhaustion was the wet dream you’ve had of him last night, one that made you wake you up drenched in sweat and with soaked panties, unable to fall asleep again.

So you just dismissed him. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a lack of sleep.”

“You know you can always come to me when there is something up.” Jake said, putting his hand on your arm in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but just got you even more worked up. You had it bad for the man, and that was why needed to get out of this situation right now.

“Of course, I know.” You gave him a tight smile, hoping he would buy it. “But I really need to go now, lots of stuff to do. I’ll see you.”

Later that day, when you were alone in your office booth, you texted your friend who was working in another department of CNN.

I def need to let off some steam tonight. Club? Xx

She texted you back a couple of minutes later.

Run in with the hot boss again? ;) But sure, let’s do it xx

Even though it was a weekday, the club was bursting with people. You already were on your third or fourth round of shots, and the base was humming through your body, blasting away your worries.

You dragged your friend over to the dancefloor when you heard your favorite song starting to play, the alcohol creating a warm and fuzzy sensation you totally got lost in.

+++

When you woke up the next morning, you regretted every decision you ever made. You didn’t remember how you got home last night, and your head felt like someone had smashed it in with a hammer. And on top of all, you were late for work.

When you finally got the office, everyone was already coming out of the morning meeting. You carefully made your way inside the meeting room, where Jake was still packing up his stuff, as always. As you approached him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as it usually did when you were alone with him, but now with the added fear of his anger.

But when he glanced up and saw you, he looked…relieved? You were confused, you had expected a telling-off, but he appeared as if he was happy to see you.

“Thank god you’re alright, Y/N, I was so worried when you didn’t show up this morning.”

It was when he took a closer look at you that he noticed your appearance, and undoubtedly sensed the alcohol still lingering. He had a very keen sense of smell, something he told you a while back. You swallowed when you saw his expression shift from friendly to irritated.

“You’re hungover.” He stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold.

“Jake, I’m really sorry, I-“you began to apologize, but he was not having it.

“Look, it’s really none of my business how you decide to spend your free time, but I expect you to act professional when it comes to the job, and that doesn’t include showing up late and hungover. I will let this one slide, but this happens again, and we have a problem, am I clear?” he was definitely angry, and you should be intimidated my that. You really felt remorse, but seeing Jake worked up like that also made your stupid brain come up with thoughts of him throwing you on the desk of the briefing room and working out his frustration on you.

“I said, am I clear?” Jake asked again, you had clearly zoned out again.

“Yes, sure, clear.” You said in a small voice, now immensely ashamed that you had disappointed Jake, after everything he had done for you.

“Again, I am really so sorry.” You called after Jake as he was making his way out of the room, but he just dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

The thoughts you had about Jake didn’t leave your mind for the rest of the day. You wanted him so bad and seeing him constantly when he was so out of reach was getting harder every day. You desperately needed to clear your head, the only way you knew. So, against your better judgement, you texted your friend again, and a couple of hours later you found yourself in the same club, drunk and dancing without a care in the world.

You almost hated how much you needed this, the music, the people surrounding you, the alcohol flowing through your veins, making you forget everything.

You lost count how many drinks you’ve downed, but you lost sight of your friend as well, so you decided to go outside for a smoke and some fresh air.

You picked your phone out of your pocket to message your friend when a fantastic idea hit you.

Why not call Jake? You were having a great time, and it only made sense that you should share it with him, because you really liked him, right?

“Y/N? It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong, did something happen?” a still sleepy, but increasingly alarmed Jake asked from the other side of the phone.

“Hiii Jake, oh my god, I’m having the best time ever here, it’s so fun, you should come too! C’mon its Friday, you should party a bit.” You basically screamed into your phone, your voice slightly slurred from too many drinks.

“Shit, it’s Friday morning, which means there is still work tomorrow. Wait, are you drunk? Where are you?” Jake asked, his voice was full of anger now, and under normal circumstances you would be really worried about that, but right now, you did not care a single bit.

“Oh, I’m at that great new club downtown, it’s called the red…I can’t remember, something with red, and the people are so nice, but I lost my friend, so I think I’m going home soon.” You rambled on, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“There is no way in hell you’re going home like this, Y/N. You stay right where you are, I’m coming.”He definitely sounded infuriated now, and even your intoxicated brain understood the instructions.

“Alright, Jakey, I’ll see you.” But he had already hung up.

You kept aimlessly walking around in front of the club for a while, making drunk small talk with other club goers, when suddenly, someone grabbed your shoulder and yanked you around. It was Jake, tired looking and with a deep frown on his face.

“Jaaaaaake, you came!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his neck. He stiffened against you and softly pushed you away.

“Y/N, you’re wasted. Come on, I’m getting you home.” He said, voice leaving no room for arguments. He grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you to his nearby car, pushing you into the passenger seat. When he leaned over you to buckle your seatbelt, he came incredibly close to you, and again, you spoke without thinking.

“You smell so nice, Jake, like a forest.”

He just gave you a puzzled look and walked around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

The drive to your flat passed in tense silence, you were busy staring at Jakes hands angrily gripping the steering wheel, wondering if they would feel as good around your neck as you imagined. You could feel a tingle between your legs and started squirming a bit, until Jake grabbed your bare tight just below the hem of your skirt and snarled “Stop moving like this, I have to focus on traffic.”

You had to stifle a moan at his rough touch, but if he noticed he didn’t comment on it.

When you finally arrived at your building, Jake had to support you while getting into the elevator and to your door, you weren’t that steady on your feet anymore and by now, more of a tired than a giddy drunk.

“That’s mine.” You said and started fumbling with your keys. “You wanna come inside?”

If you had been sober, you would’ve noticed the pained expression that flashed over Jakes face just before it hardened again.

“No, I certainly won’t come inside, but this is what you are going to do. You will drink a glass of water, brush your teeth and set your alarm, so you will be on time at work tomorrow where we can discuss” he gestured angrily between the two of you “whatever this stunt was. Understood?”

“Yes.��� You answered meekly “and thank you for taking me home!” you called, but Jake was already on his way back to the elevator.

+++

When your alarm woke you up only a few hours later, you felt like hell. And that was because you could remember everything. No blissful blackout this time, you were able to recall every vivid, horrible detail of how you had made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the man you admired most in the world. You owed him one hell of an apology, and you were not really sure how to go about this.

You entered the office like a beaten dog, shoulders hanging and praying to the gods you looked better than you felt. Jake ignored you in the morning briefing, so you stayed behind to face his wrath. When you were finally alone, you spoke first.

“Jake, about last night, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Not only did I act extremely reckless and unprofessional, but I also took advantage of our friendship, which is something that a value more than anything. I accept whatever repercussion you see fit, I just hope you can see how sorry I am.” By the end of your little speech you were almost crying, your disappointment in yourself and your fear of Jakes reaction were making you physically sick.

Jake stayed silent for what felt like forever, and when he finally spoke, your anxiety was almost killing you. “Yes, I am immensely angry about what happened last night. But most of all I’m worried. The Y/N I know doesn’t act that irresponsible, getting absolutely wasted two nights in a row. I went to talk to your friend down in the sports department earlier this morning. I know, that might be considered unprofessional, but she’s just as worried as I am. She told me you’ve been drinking a lot lately, and always more than you should. What is wrong, Y/N, what are you hiding from me?”

That was the perfect timing to tell him everything, how he was on your mind all the time, how you wanted to kiss him, touch him, be with him in every way possible, so bad that it was keeping you up at night or haunted your dreams. But you couldn’t, there was too much on the line.

“Nothing, work is just stressful, I’ve been working overtime so much; I had to blow off some steam. I’m just sorry I dragged you into this.”

Jake stepped closer to you, and you could feel your heart speed up at the way he was looking at you, something like heated curiosity on his face.

“So, this has nothing to do with the way you threw yourself at me last night, or how you told me I smelled nice?” he asked, his deep voice making goosebumps break out all over your skin. “Or with the fact that you tried to invite me into your apartment?”

“Jake, it’s not how it looks like, I swear. I won’t bother you like this again, ever, I promise.” Your voice starting to become panicked, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t know.

But Jake just chuckled and leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“I think I know exactly how this looks, Y/N.”

He took a step back, suddenly looking calm and collected again, as if the moment you just had never happened.

“I have to go now, but I see you tonight. The office party in the bar down the road, you remember? I expect everyone to at least show up for a while.”

Great, you thought, having totally forgotten about the event. You just wanted to curl up in bed and feel sorry for yourself, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards for you today.

And so, a couple of hours later you found yourself in said bar, surrounded by your colleagues. You already had a short talk with your friend, ensuring her that you weren’t mad that she talked to Jake, you were convinced it came from a place of concern.

You kept it at two drinks, but it was enough to lighten your mood a bit. Jake was talking to someone in another corner of the room, and he looked fantastic with a casual blazer and no tie. There were moments when you felt like he was watching you, but you were never able to make eye contact and were too shy to approach him directly.

It got late and people were starting to hit the dancefloor. You decided to give it a go as well, and soon you were totally lost in the music.

Suddenly, you felt a set of strong hands on your hips and the presence of a warm body behind you. You spun around to tell whatever creep decided to grope you to let it go when you saw that it was Jake. He was smirking down at you, moving his body to the music. You weren’t sure what to do, you were incredibly nervous, but having him close felt so good. Deciding to be brave, you just took his hands and put them back on your hips, giving him a small nod. His grin broadened and you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dancefloor. He pulled you closer until your bodies almost were almost touching, you put your hands around his neck and started to lightly move against him.

Jakes eyes were darkening as he looked down at you, and his grip on your hips tightened noticeable. Being the center of his attention like that, in combination with the pulse of the base and the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in your system made you slightly lightheaded, you felt like you were in your own little bubble, just you and Jake. You started to lightly gyrate your hips, and you could swear that you heard him groan over the sound of the song playing. He pulled you even tighter against his body, by now you were grinding against each other, never leaving each other’s eyes, and your body felt like it was on fire. The tension between the two of you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your faces were coming closer and closer to each other, and your heart was basically jumping out of your chest by now, when suddenly, someone burst your bubble.

“Jake, we need you in the studio, there’s been an incident with…” some agitated guy tried to scream over the music, and you couldn’t make out all the words, but the next thing you heard was Jakes voice as he leaned down to address you.

“I have to go for now, but this isn’t over. I’ll see you on Monday.” It sounded promising, and a delicious shudder went down your spine at his words, easing away some of the frustration you felt at being interrupted.

The weekend was long, you didn’t call or text Jake, unsure what to say. So you just tried to distract yourself until it was finally time for work again.

The week started with the usual morning meeting, and you and Jake weren’t even trying to hide the glances you were giving each other. The dynamic between you had definitely shifted, and the tension only increased over the course of the day.

He was purposefully standing closer to you than usual, you let your hand lightly brush against his leg when he was sitting next to you at lunch and during the afternoon shows ad breaks, his eyes were fixed on you, never leaving you out of sight. You looked back, biting your lips and Jakes eyes widened, he looked like he wanted to devour you. You knew that sooner or later you had to face him and address what was going on. So when you got a message from Jake shortly after the show was over, telling you to meet him in his office, you basically ran there.

In front of his door, you took a moment to collect yourself before you knocked and entered.

Jake was leaning against his desk, tie and suit jacked discarded, arms crossed over his chest.

You made your way over to him and when you were close enough, he put his hands on your hips, like he was picking up right where you left it Friday night.

“You know.” He said, and his voice was a bit husky. “I’ve been in quiet the state since our dance Friday night. And your little touches here and there haven’t helped at all.”

He accentuated his words by pulling you flush against his body, and you moaned simultaneously when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against your belly.

You smirked and got on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear “I see, now what am I supposed to do about that?”

You pressed a kiss to his neck, and the deep groan he let out was almost sinful.

He reached out to grab your jaw and kissed you in a way that made it clear that he had lost his usually tight control. You held onto him with both arms while he spun you around and probed you up onto his desk, sending papers and pens flying in all directions. No one of you cared.

His hands found their way under your skirt, climbing up until his fingers were stroking over your already soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your covered clit, and you couldn’t suppress a loud moan.

“God, Y/N, how are you already so wet, I have barely touched you.”

“Get on with it then, please.” You groaned, spreading your legs to give him better access. He complied, pushing up your skirt. You lifted your hips so he could swiftly slide your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening center to the cool air of his office.

His fingers crept up your tights again, parting your lips and plunging two digits inside you while his thumb was rubbing your clit in light, circular motions, the pressure creating the most perfect sensation.

“Yesssss.” You hissed and tried to move your hips into the direction of his fingers to increase the friction, this wasn’t nearly enough for you.

“Please Jake, I need more.” You looked up at him and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, withdrew his fingers and opened his fly. He pulled down his trousers and underwear, revealing his cock. You licked your lips at the sight of it, you were definitely going to enjoy this.

“You better come over here right now.” You whispered, and Jake stepped between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

“Damn, Tapper, fuck me already.” You groaned, and a second later he was thrusting into you in one fluid motion, instantly setting a brutal pace. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress the scream that was bursting out of you at the feeling of being filled so roughly. By now, you were almost lying almost flat on his desk, various clutter digging into your back.

Jakes hand were on your hips again, grabbing them tightly while slamming into you over and over. You had to keep your hand pressed to your mouth to prevent your loud cries from spilling out. Jake was hitting a perfect spot deep inside you with each hard thrust and you already knew you wouldn’t last long.

“I’ve been thinking about this for the whole weekend, throwing you on that desk and fucking you.” He growled through his clenched teeth and hearing him talk like that made your arousal spike. You had never seen him so unhinged, and it was glorious.

“You feel so good inside me Jake, so good, please fuck me harder.” You whimpered, and when he deepened his thrusts it only took another moment till you hit your peak with a guttural cry, a disfigured version of Jakes name falling from your lips.

He fucked you through your climax, never slowing down. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, your mixed breathings and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the office.

When he reached between your legs to rub your clit again, it almost felt like too much, you were overstimulated, but he was relentless, rubbing and pressing until you were on the edge of another orgasm.

“Jake, ugh, I’m going to come again.” You cried, and when he pinched your bud between his fingers you felt like you died and went to heaven. The walls of your pussy were fluttering and clenching down onto his cock as you hit your second peak, this time dragging Jake along with you over the edge. He gave one last forceful thrust and released himself deep inside you with a growl.

After he pulled out, Jake helped you get up from the desk and pulled you against his chest.

“You should have told me earlier.” He said, voice still slightly breathless. “How you felt.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“I wish I had.” You answered. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“What is this too you?” he asked, his voice strangely emotional “What do you want from this?”

“I want you. If you’ll have me?”

The kiss he gave you in response was all the answer you needed.

[itsclydebitches]

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first: 

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense. 

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go. 

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3 

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. 

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it. 

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit. 

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world. 

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

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

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.  

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

[minyoongisjiminie]

너는 나 나는 너 (neoneun na naneun neo)

ship: jikook, idol!jungkook x broke literature student!jimin

genre: fluff and angst, kind of slowburn

rating: pg-13

disclaimer: language and alcohol 

plot: jimin and jungkook were childhood friends and with jungkook training to become an idol, they both lost contact. jungkook however did never forget what Jimin once promised him: “If your pinky is bigger than mine, then I give you the allowance to marry me.” 

inspo: a beautiful fanart that i saw on insta some time ago. it made me brainstorm for a good amount of time :)

a/n: please be nice to me :’) I haven’t written stuff in such a long time and I’m so out of it…so pretty please cut me some slack :) constructive criticism is always allowed tho.

a big thank you to the closest mutual i have: @sugaforyou​ for beta reading and just being a helpful hand! i’m sure I was a mess… :’) I’m sorry for that and I love you! 

word count: 12,8k 

-

Jimin despised waking up early every day and then continuing to trot to the bus station. Did it even matter in the first place? School made him even more unmotivated than he already was in this part of life. In fact, there were no interesting and helpful topics he learned there and, furthermore, he thought that attending school was more something he fulfilled for his parents. They were always so proud of him when he brought home a good grade. So proud, that he always concealed how depressed school actually made him.  Going to school for so many hours to then attending the tuition classes and as if that weren’t enough also continuing studying at home, was that place that essential though? It just made him already completely weary when he wakes up on a Saturday. The only passion and hobby that he possessed was taking dance lessons, but even for those he rarely had time. He wanted to continue to attend them, but he was too overwhelmed with school that he was absolutely tired. On top of that, none of his friends actually tried to offer him a shoulder to cry or were even there to cheer him up. 

They did not realise how it was to live up each day to the expectations of others, how it was to live for others, just how it was to be so damn dependent on someone. Of course, he wasn’t the only one that had parents that were expecting so much. However, the friends that he established were all free spirits and some of their parents were even condoning that.

Oh, how he envied them. 

Why was he even so dependent on the hugs from his parents when he brought home an A, or just a simple “I’m proud of you” or “i love you”. It made him do things that he wouldn’t normally do. He was not expecting that just from his parents, but also from his friends. If he got these compliments and showers of love, he felt like it was okay to suffer. Maybe that was the reason why he was so lonely. He put himself into the moulds that people in his environment created for him. It ended up swallowing him up.

Nowadays, those he once called friends were ignoring him as much as they could, and his family didn’t really care about him. As long as he received  good grades and didn’t protest, they were fine with him. To be honest now without any distractions whatsoever he could completely concentrate on school, with his friends having stopped calling him on Friday nights to ask if he would come hang out with him on the weekend/following day.

They already knew he would find a pathetic excuse why he couldn’t attend. He was on his own.

Just as if someone like Kookie didn’t exist…

Kookie, or by his full name Jeon Jungkook, was his younger neighbour.

He was a few years younger than him and every time when Jimin was miserably trotting to school, the little one would always sprint his way up to him. Like Jimin’s puppy “Doraemon” trying to play with the little kids by running after them. Now after realising that, Jimin couldn’t stop thinking that they sort of looked similar to each other. That made him forget his sorrow for a little while, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

When Jimin was younger he always thought that Jungkook behaved that way because he looked up to him. Considering he was a few years older than him. Maybe he needed an older brother figure? Nowadays however Kookie comes to check if his pinkie grew out to be taller than the one of the older one. This cannot happen overnight of course, but Jungkook didn’t quite seem to understand how the mystery of time and patience worked.

“Hyung, just look! If my finger outgrows yours..! Then you need to marry me. You promised me!”

Jimin smiled gently. He actually stated that a few months back, because Jungkook wouldn’t stop bragging around that he was marrying Jimin soon. At first he thought it was cute, but after a while it started to get on Jimin’s nerves because he wouldn’t stop. So, the only option he had was to tell him they were still too young, and Jimin liked boys bigger than him.

To the surprise of the little one of course. He was absolutely bamboozled, his doe-like eyes grew even bigger in that moment, and he asked if he really needed to become taller than him, in order for him to take the older one’s hand in marriage. Jimin quickly grabbed the younger one by his hand and softly stated: “It’s enough if your little pinkie is bigger than hyung’s. And that needs some time, doesn’t it?” Kookie nodded shyly, examining the black and white converse chucks that the older one was wearing.

Looking back to it, he always ended up snickering a bit. The boy was truly a gift to the neighbourhood, everyone in the area loved him. Even though he was already growing up to become an adolescent, for all the neighbours he was still the little cute and gifted maknae, Kookie. A lot of his classmates that came to visit him were all trying too hard to look cool, which was normal for that age, but Kookie was still acting like a little adorable brat.

But dare you to recognize him and adore him back, face to face, then he turned into a big whiny mess.

Jungkook was indeed a once in a lifetime…

Jimin didn’t even know why Jungkook was so hellbent on “marrying” him. They were so young  and Jungkook so tiny. You wouldn’t tell he was twelve.

However, Jimin couldn’t stop feeling a bit flattered by the compliments and promises the little one gifted him. Even though it was “just his younger neighbour kid”.

“I firmly promise.” He hooked Kook’s little finger with his own, pulled his thumb onto his and made them touch. “You can trust your hyungie right?” Kook was already shyly staring at the pavement. Oh wow, now HE was the one that needed to be intimidated? “Of course, hyung.”

Jimin couldn’t contain himself, he chuckled. Jungkook was just such a… cutie pie.

To be honest, Jungkook isn’t 10 years or even 5 years younger than Jimin. The age gap consists of 2 years. That was completely alright. However, the height difference couldn’t be overlooked. Jungkook could reach Jimin’s chest at the moment, and the older one was sure that he would grow. However, the reason why Jimin was keeping his distance with his dongsaeng, was surely not the height difference. But rather that he would not stay right by his side. He wouldn’t continue to chase him down before school, ask for his pinkie in a cutely manner, or even give him the puppy eyes, to bribe him, so he could buy him his candies and banana milk. He would disappear in thin air. Just like his friends once did.

And that was bothering Jimin more than he would admit.

“You need to promise me that you’ll always give your best. Fate always brings those together that deeply care for each other. Okay?”

Jimin grabbed Jungkook by his shoulders, a bit tougher than he actually wanted, and he had a weird feeling in his guts telling him he wouldn’t see him again. He was indeed sure in his bones of the fact Jungkook would find someone better to look up to and adore.

In the end, Jimin was a loser, who wasn’t brave enough to run after his own dreams. And that sucked. Of course, it did. Jungkook shouldn’t stay here, though. Nothing should hold him here. Not even his first childhood romance.

If you could even call it like that..

“I’ll do that.. But if you forget me…!”

Jimin noticed the tears building up in Kookie’s big doe eyes, and he couldn’t contain his own sadness. It was so odd to see him in such a condition. He thought he would make some stupid jokes and then just say bye. Now looking at him like this, was concerning him.

“Hey… Oh Kook-ah!” He gently pushed Jungkook’s back into his arms, to embrace him into a hug. With one hand, the older one was caressing his little head while the other one his back.

“Hyung, will always be there with you. You cannot see me, but I’ll be right there by your side, alright?”

“I will miss you so much hyung.” the younger one replied with a trembling voice.

“You need to return quickly. You need to know if this one,” He showed his little pale pinkie. “Of yours, grew up to become bigger than mine, huh?” Jungkook’s lips finally formed a little smile, even though his eyes were still watery and red. “I promise. But when I come back you need to promise to marry me. Don’t you dare forget.”

Even though he wouldn’t admit it now, Jimin’s eyes back then were also filling up with tears. He caressed Jungkook’s head once more before moving away from the little one and facing him.

“This is a promise.”

Yet again they gave each other their little promise gesture. And then Jungkook was gone. Vanished, you could say without even leaving a trace. He did not forget a single thing. All his toys and plushies he loved, he kept. That was a bummer. Jimin hoped to have something from him to always keep him in his memories.

The first few years, Jimin welcomed home some letters. Or messages on his phone. After some time, however, even those stopped.

~ a few years later ~

“Jimin, you owe me more than one soju bottle for doing this…?”

Yoongi massaged his own lower back, after carrying a few boxes up to Jimin’s new place. He was not born to help him out, along with it, he also wasn’t born to carry heavy boxes like that. Why did Jimin even ask Yoongi from all the people he knows to help him out? He isn’t helpful in any way. 

“Dude you brought up 2 boxes. You shouldn’t even get half of a soju bottle.” the younger one replied while lying down on the cold wooden plank. He was exhausted and didn’t even know why he was still going to college. He fucked up his first semester because he chose to listen to his parents and studied hotel management. Hotel management? From all the subjects the world has to offer, he chose fucking hotel management? Thankfully, he found his better half in the same classes and funny thing is he also seemed out of place.

His parents were not so happy to hear that. But in the end they accepted his choice and let him study whatever he wants. As long as he still went to college they didn’t care anymore.

In a way he was happy, but he was also fucking tired and disappointed in himself. Why did he even listen to his parent’s advice in the first place?

“I’m your sunbae, and the most important thing is that I’m your hyung. So, don’t be such a disrespectful piece of trash and be thankful that I was there to help you out.”

Yoongi scoffed back while he poked Jimin’s chest with his pale finger.

The younger one rolled his eyes and made some space for Yoongi to lay next to him on the floor. Even though there was a cheap sofa just a few meters away from them, on this hot summer day the best and also free thing was to just lay down on the floor. Jimin wasn’t rich in any way, so therefore he couldn’t afford an AC.

“Taehyung was too busy with his girlfriend. Hoseok hyung was too busy with his college work and the others were out partying.”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his lukewarm beer that Jimin bought him on their way to get here. He wasn’t necessarily into partying, especially not when it was that hot outside. Jimin was also the only one he was cool with, hanging out with him didn’t get on his nerves. That was a plus. And as long as he got his soju, he gives zero fucks.

“I’m the best hyung you have. Just sayin’.” He stood up pretty quickly from the cold wooden floor and offered his hand to the now blonde-haired boy. “Soju time.” Yoongi stick out his tongue and squeezed his eyes. Jimin couldn’t prevent himself from laughing. This hyung got some fairly good aegyo talent if alcohol was in play.

*

“Cheers!”

It was pretty late now. Jimin was starting to get tired and was unsure if he could pay for all the soju bottles they were destroying. “Hyung, how about you slow down a bit? I don’t think I can pay up for all of this.” Jimin was starting to count the tteokbokki and the soju bottles that they already devoured. 1, 2, 3, 4… no. It was impossible. He already was broke. He was happy that he could pay for even one bottle.

“Don’t worry too much. I knew you would say that. I asked for one bottle so just pay up for one if you want to.”

Jimin looked at him suspiciously, uncertain in what he was up to. Soon after he just gave up and stopped assuming that his older friend expected something from him in return. He was too drunk in the first place, thinking shouldn’t be an option.

“Come on, let’s get home. You look so drunk.”

“Am. Not?”

Jimin has always gotten pretty sassy and showed his big temper when he was drunk. It made Yoongi laugh, so he just played along.

“Okay, little one. Let’s go. Tomorrow is Uni-Day.”

Jimin tried. Standing up was hard, he felt like his eyes were coated with tiny little clouds. And his head was starting to ache really bad. “Hyung, please. Help me…” He pouted while searching for his hyung with his hands.

Little did Jimin know, Yoongi was actually paying for the food and the alcohol, snickering as he glanced at the helpless little blonde boy. It was always a different kind of entertainment to watch Jimin being drunk. And he adored that.

“Come on!”

Yoongi dragged Jimin out of the bar and linked his arms with his. Just to be careful. He could never be sure if he’s up to something. Drunk people are like kids. You can’t read their thoughts, and suddenly they’re crying because they’re doing something stupid.

“Hmm, which Bus should we take..?”

While Yoongi was looking through his phone, Jimin started observing his surroundings. It was pretty dark and refreshing to stand outside after drinking so much, with the weather tingling him. And he realised how happy he was that he didn’t barf tonight. It was an improvement for him.

The night still was young, one could never know.

While Jimin looked at all the posters glued on the windows and doors of the neighbour’s bars and restaurants, there was a specific one whom caught his attention.The boy on the poster looked so familiar…

Oh no. The boy on the poster… Is none other than…

That was damn Jeon Jungkook!

Jimin felt the puke climbing its way up to his throat, and he was so not welcoming it.

“Hyung… I think.. I need to..”

There we go.

“FUCK.”

*

After last night’s encounter with poster Jungkook, Jimin had such a bad mood that nothing on this planet could have cheered him up. And that fucking sucked.

His friends tried their best, but as they realised that even Mr. Kim’s class was not cheering him up a bit, they became worried.

“Jimin, you want some boba? I could buy some boba!”

Hoseok was really good at cheering up. He was such a funny spirit and always used his best words. But not even Hoseokie hyung’s jokes and cuddles or boba could cheer him up. If the older one could mix some magical powder in his boba, so he would forget all the heart-breaking memories he had with Jungkook… Then he would sure as hell take it.

“No, I gotta head to work. I’ll just drink coffee there.”

He grabbed his bag and trotted his way to the cafe where he worked part-time. Why was he even miserable in the first place? Jungkook was just a little boy back then –12 years old to be exact– thinking he was in love with him. That was it. How could a child know what real love was? Besides, why should Jimin care in the first place, when he already knew it was just a kindergarten love?

His headache was still not gone, and he was sure it did not entirely just come from alcohol…

“Hello, Noona.”

Jimin bowed towards his boss and grabbed his apron. Working in the cafe wasn’t even bad. He loved it to a certain amount. It was relaxing and soothing to create drinks and serve cakes and macarons. But he doubted that work today will help him overcome his past love.

“What’s wrong? Did you fail a test or something?”

Yoona washed her hands and prepared everything for Jimin to take over. She was two years older than him, and he was thankful for that. Jimin had no clue how to interact with people that were either way older than him or way younger than him.

“Nah, it’s just my brain.” He raised his index finger, pointed at his brain and took a deep sigh. “Overthinking.”

His older friend smiled lightly and tapped on his shoulder. “I don’t know what the problem is. But you will eventually overcome it. I promise.”

He nods, starting to cut some fruits to prepare some boba tea. It helped him to ignore Jungkook who was desperately trying to contact him in his head. Repeatedly knocking on his brain and crying out his name like a mantra: “Jiminie hyung!”

If that wasn’t bad enough.. Yoona forgot to tell him that there was a fancafe event today.

For Jungkook himself.

Jimin felt how his heart started to burst. Why was he so dependent on him? He didn’t see him for years and now suddenly after so many years he was following him around?

“Uhm, sir?”

A young girl, who was definitely still a high schooler, stood in front of the cash register and looked him straight in the eyes.

“We got permission from the Lady who was working here before. Just.. to be clear.”

He nodded, tried to smile, and gave her the permission again. Complimenting how beautiful the cafe looked and that they were doing a good job.

What should he even do? Be mad at the girl for being a fan? No. It wasn’t her fault.

“If you need help or anything. Say so.” He quickly continued and made his way to his best friend Taehyung, who was already sitting at his table.

“The usual?”

Tae nodded while glancing around at the cafe now full of Jungkook’s face. The tables were plastered with cups and cupcakes with Jungkook’s pictures, his name and birthdate. Of course, it was Jungkook’s birthday today. He completely forgot…

“Can I get my latte with this cup?” Taehyung tried to imitate Jungkook’s expression on the cup and gave the expression a little silly twist. Thankfully, the girls were busy putting posters on the wall, that they didn’t acknowledge him at all. The last thing he wanted, was a mob full of teenage girls getting at his nerves for disrespecting their “oppa”.

“Don’t ruin the fun for the fans. If that’s the way they want to show their love, they should.”

Taehyung looked up to him, confused. Since when was Jimin so nonchalant about events like that? He was literally the first one to complain about these girls or even boys who came to decorate the cafe with the handsome faces of the idols. The blonde-haired boy even went that far to call them “the slaves of the rich”.

“Anyway..” He stood up and followed Jimin to his working area. Taehyung would always order the same thing. A latte, a turkey sandwich, and a piece of the famous walnut cake. Jimin sometimes wondered if he wasn’t bored with picking the same order over and over again. But what did he care? As long as he was near him and could watch over him being an emotional mess and maybe even interfere if he were doing too much nonsense, he didn’t care at all.

“Did you see these girls? They are putting the posters up there like their lives are depending on it, it’s just a goddamn birthday of some self-centred sexy looking boy.”

Taehyung took a big sip of his latte and gave a disgusted expression.

Oh boy if you knew..

“Ah, by the way, I actually got to know the ‘self-centred-sexy looking boy’.

His best friend choked on the latte and stared at him, completely bewildered, and gave him a look. “No way..?!” Jimin shrugged his shoulders and put his food on the glass table in front of him. “Not a big deal, we were good friends back in Busan.” He casually responded as if it were the most normal thing that could happen to someone.

“And when did you think it was appropriate to tell me ?” Taehyung took a bite of his sandwich and skilfully avoided any eye contact with the smaller one. Jimin did not even need to look at him to know that he was probably pouting while eating to give him a guilty conscience.

Why should he feel guilty though? Everything happened way back in the past. Sometimes it’s better to let the past go. And the same rule was also directed to Kookie.

“You have something to say to me?” Jimin responded after a while. Shouldn’t it be Jimin’s choice to choose when to talk about specific things? Why is everyone always coming at him when he hid something from them? Doesn’t he have the right for privacy?

“Nah nothing. I was just wondering how you’ve gotten to know him. He’s pretty popular nowadays.”

“We were childhood friends.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened. He didn’t expect that Jimin was friends with the upcoming next ‘Taeyang’. Funny how one always discovers something new about their best friends.

“And you’re still in contact?” Taehyung suddenly started to welcome the idea of his best friend knowing a famous idol, that could open so many doors for them. Dreamily, he put a fork full of cake in his mouth. Just thinking that people would try to be friends with them and act like they are celebrities themselves made him cheerful. According to Taehyung, they weren’t exactly losers or anything, but they weren’t associated with the cool kids either. Jungkook could open so many doors for him.. and Jimin of course!

“Nah. He stopped writing me back.”

It was actually Jimin that stopped. But the questions on “why” and “how” would be too annoying for him, so he realised lying wouldn’t be that bad.

“Aw shit that sucks.”

After Jimin’s confession, they both stopped talking for a while. Taehyung confessed that he still had some schoolwork overdue and that he would concentrate on that, and Jimin stated that he was still in preparation for today’s work. However, both were still in eyesight to each other. Here and there they shared some moments, but overall, they did their own thing.

That was refreshing to Jimin.

Maybe he was selfish for being so demanding and wanting Taehyung to be near him. And also wanting him to be silent and letting him do his work, without interruption. Yet, at moments like these, he realised how much he actually respected their friendship and also how they’re both complete opposites from each other.

Taehyung was a pretty outgoing, friendly, and charming guy. Girls loved him and were undressing him with their stares when he was walking around campus, and guys wanted to be his friend, sending him invitations to notorious parties. In addition, he was also humble and disagreed with the fact that he was in any way “popular”. He was that clueless that he would make plans on how to get into parties that were from popular seniors but hasn’t realised that he indeed was literally the most treasured and desired boy in the whole campus. The majority of seniors weren’t interested in him, however they knew him. To the point that he would receive cute messages from pretty noonas.

Okay, maybe the seniors were indeed interested in him, but they had a big ego, and wouldn’t give him invitations, nevertheless.

A typical case of not knowing what is in front of your nose but wanting something that you’ll never get.

Jimin however… He was a hopeless loser.

Girls didn’t give a single shit about him, guys were ignoring him and would only greet him when Taehyung or his senior friends were next to him. He wasn’t interesting and he realised that fact one too many times. The only thing he was good for was when his colleagues wanted to get close to his friends through him. And that was nice for both sides. Jimin’s friends knew whom to ignore from now on, and the girls and guys who were trying had the hope to get closer to them.

What a shitshow.

The only great thing about college nowadays was that he actually had some real friends he could count on.

Thinking about the way his friends knew little of Jungkook made him feel glum. They pretty much knew a great deal about him, he told them everything. His relationship with his younger brother, his parents, his assholes of friends back then. But he always let Jungkook out. Even though he played such a big part in his life once.

And still does.

Yearningly he looked back to Taehyung, who had his earplugs in and typed something in his MacBook. He wanted to tell him how much he actually missed Jungkook. How much he loved him back then, and how sorry he was that he stopped replying.

The guilt in his intestines was driving him wild.

Maybe that was the problem. He was running away from the responsibility over their relationship. Why was he even scared? He had no clue.

Why did he stop replying? He knew how shy and insecure Jungkook was back then. He even wrote to him once, that he felt like crying whenever his fellow trainee-hyungs were interrogating him about his interests. And that he would look himself up just to take a long deep breath. After all the confessions the younger one made, Jimin just stopped replying? He was disgusted. And disappointed in himself.

Perhaps that was the reason why he was so remorseful and so careful to bring him up.

This was the first time he had friends. And he didn’t want them to leave him too.

On the other side, he felt guilty. Wanting to know if what he did was really that bad, or that maybe in any way, his friends would understand and forgive him.

“Taehyung-ah?”

Jimin raised his voice slightly. Not wanting to gain attention from Jungkook’s fans. He assumed the girls were nearly done with their work. They decorated the cafe in pastel colours and all the posters were already hanging on the wall. Apparently the only thing they still were working on was the TV, trying to connect it with their phones, possibly to put on some music videos.

“Tae?”

He raised his voice one more time. Again, not getting an answer.

“Now or Never” he thought.

Taehyung was his best friend, the only same aged friend he had to be exact. Why couldn’t he just be a hundred percent honest with him?

The blonde-haired boy walked towards the little table that was plastered full of Taehyung’s books, a notebook and his MacBook. He hoped for Taehyung to understand him and maybe even help him out to forget Jungkook. After so many years the younger one would’ve forgotten about him anyway…

“Something’s wrong?” Taehyung saw Jimin’s agonized expression and it worried him. He surveyed the restaurant. No one. The guests were perhaps put off by the girls that discussed vocally about the pictures that should be taken and didn’t even dare to enter the little cafe. Due to the minority of guests, he grabbed Jimin’s wrist and made him sit next to him.

“Finally! Will you tell me what’s been bothering you for so long?" 

It sounded like he impatiently spitted these words out, but Taehyung was just worried. And maybe even a bit annoyed. Jimin wouldn’t keep things from him for so long. Most of the time he would write him a message, and Taehyung helped him out by cheering him up. Of course, there were also times where that wasn’t enough. Then, he would come pick his friend up without him realising, drag him to the closest "McDonalds” and have a late snack together. That’s just how things worked out between them. 

Now seeing that his best friend was hiding something from him, and that it was overall bothering him to the point that he was spreading this bad mood around… Was especially concerning to him. 

How could Jimin even decline Hobi hyung’s offer to boba?! 

“There is so much that I didn’t tell you. And I feel fucking guilty. Seriously…”

Jimin’s voice started to break, and he needed to fight against his tears. He was so frightened that his friend would end this friendship, when he found out that he let the 13-year-old Jungkook back then, down. Mostly, because Jimin was kind of the caretaker of their little friend group. That also applied to Taehyung’s girlfriend who also was a pretty close friend to Jimin. If they find out about Jungkook maybe they’ll stop trusting him altogether.

“Bro.. that’s okay. Tell me. You make me all scared right now.” Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s cold hand and put his own two hands on it. “Does it have something to do with that Jungkook guy?” Jimin gulped. He needed to be completely honest with him about this. About his feelings and in general, about the relationship he shared with his once younger friend. 

“Yeah, actually it does.” Jimin responded, while still staring at their hands. It helped him a lot to feel Taehyung’s hands on his own. He once noticed how much tanner he was than him. And he remembered once again how different they are from each other. Even when it came to things like outer appearance. 

So then, after recollecting his thoughts, he spilled everything out. How they both shared this deep-rooted relationship, and how both shared the mutual trust and love in each other. He revealed every single point, and how Jungkook made him feel. Even though, back then, he was younger and smaller than him. Kookie was the only one that understood him and stood by his side. 

Jimin was sharing all these intimate moments that he had with his dongsaeng, while he didn’t recognize how Taehyung was smiling widely about the way he mentioned cute little habits that Jungkook possessed and even the grimaces he once did to cheer him up. Talking about these habits eventually helped Jimin to overcome his tension about this topic. 

“I told you that he stopped replying, remember?" 

Taehyung still extremely interested and who seemingly forgot that he had schoolwork to do, nodded while rubbing his thumb on Jimin’s outer hand. 

"Well, that’s not the entire truth… I was the one who stopped replying to him." 

His friend was in point of fact a bit surprised, but he wasn’t angry or disappointed. More rather he wondered why Jimin did that to be exact. 

"It’s just so complicated. He was writing to me about his hardships and I had this weird feeling that I couldn’t help him out. I also missed him so much and every time I would start a new letter my hands always mindlessly wrote the words "just come back home Jungkook-ah, hyung misses you”. Even though it was selfish of me. Then I–”

He finally gained the courage to look his friends in the eye. “I just stopped replying whatsoever.“ 

Now, it was over. He said everything completely honest and every single word that was spoken came out of his heart. The desperate wish that Taehyung would understand was still booming in his head.  

"Jimin-ah… That’s okay." 

Was everything that came out from his better half. And even that seemed enough for a second. 

*

It was now time to head home. Taehyung insisted on bringing him and on the way they could order some food. The black-haired boy knew that Jimin wouldn’t eat anything if something was bothering him, and he always remembered how his mom constantly told him that eating some delicious food was always a good way to forget about all the small melancholic things in life. Even if it was just a few hours.

"Let’s order some chicken with some beer. That’s perfect for this ugly weather." 

Even though it was blazing hot yesterday, today it was heavily raining. Without Taehyung’s umbrella they sure as hell would have a problem. 

After their conversation, Taehyung wanted to actually strangle Jimin for even thinking he would end this friendship just because of some idol boy. He made some jokes to cheer him up, and told him numerous times that it was alright. There was a solid reason why he didn’t write back, and if there was ever going to be a moment where Jungkook and Jimin eventually meet, from the way Jimin was describing him, Jungkook would understand.

"I just want to let this go, you know. But I don’t know if screaming out of my lungs or breaking stuff will help me.” Jimin stated sadly, while nibbling on his fried chicken. He actually was hungry, but eating was exhausting to him. 

All he had in his mind was Jungkook.

In one picture, little Jungkook who was crying and repeatedly asking why he abandoned him, and in a different picture there was Jungkook, all grown up, ignoring him on purpose and burning all the letters that he ever sent to him. 

“This might be a super stupid idea… But how about you write him a letter, telling him in all details what happened ? Like, why you stopped writing back and stuff." 

In all honesty, that sounded like a good idea to the blond. He can imagine how just writing down the words "I’m sorry” will clear up his guilty conscience. There was also no possible way that Jungkook would read it, either way. He was such a popular idol nowadays, he definitely received tons of letters every day. 

“No, I actually think that may help me…" 

Taehyung gifted his best friend a boxy smile while he put some fried chicken on his own plate. He always had a strong appetite. Looking at his friend eat so happily made Jimin full in a second. 

"When you finish writing, send me your letter if you want.”

Jimin looked at him like a scared puppy. How could he possibly show him this side of himself? All sensitive and vulnerable? 

He would rather stab himself. 

“No, that’s fine. I’ll just write what comes to mind and send it." 

Taehyung gave him a thumbs up with a pout. A cute habit he had while eating. Jimin smiled brightly and gave him one of his fried chicken that was sitting on his plate for some time. Eating wouldn’t calm down his stomach, which was now full of little butterflies. 

*

03:00 am.

Jimin was laying on the wooden floor. Slightly banging his head repeatedly against the tile, hoping something good will pop up in his brain.

As soon as Taehyung left, Jimin mindlessly, started to walk around his little apartment. Wishing with every step, for something good to pop out of his head, maybe some artistic poetic words? A simple sorry wouldn’t be enough, that’s all he knew.

Just like that, time passed. 

Jimin didn’t know what to say. He was too inflicted with himself and thought that no matter what he wrote, he could never be forgiven. Right there at this moment he wondered what Jungkook did right now. It was definitely ridiculously hard to be an idol, especially nowadays where K-Pop started to go viral around the globe. 

When he was younger, he always imagined while writing letters to his younger friend, what Jungkook was doing right at that moment. Back then it felt like the letter was even more sincere. 

So, what did he think Jungkook was doing right now?

He imagined him playing around with his guitar or game till sunrise. Jungkook was always a night owl, staying up pretty late and coping with the fact that he rarely slept. Even though he would feel how his eyelids start to fall on their own, he would still stubbornly, force himself to stay awake. That was something they both had in common. 

The older one remembered the times where he would sit in front of his house trying desperately to finish off his homework, while the younger one would walk up to him all ninja style and annoy him with questions. All of it happening at midnight of course. 

The desperate wish of Jimin was that Jungkook was still like, well.. Jungkook. 

Humble, adorable, funny, dorky.

As he thought of his past love, he immediately grabbed his pen and wrote down a sincere letter. Being honest with him, telling him how his life went these couple of years,  finishing off with a confession, that the younger once always wanted to hear him say:

"I once wholeheartedly loved you, and I still do." 

*

"Aw damn.." 

Hoseok stared at him like the emoji with the big eyes, that was perfectly matching to him. Jimin finally had the guts to confess to his other friends what actually really happened, and surprisingly they were all super nice about it. 

Deep down, he knew they would understand. However, it still made him happy to see that they were so invested in his little complicated love story. 

"You could literally make a whole movie about this…?” Jin stated while looking afar and making a weird gesture, implying a camera. “It would be like "The Notebook” just reversed.“ 

"I don’t really want to see this in movie theatres though, that would just be weird." 

Namjoon always acted a bit awkward when it came to romantic stories or even love stories in general. He would always listen to their stories about their hook-ups or their genuine crushes, but he never gave a weird noise off himself, like a high-pitched “aww” or something, that he thought something was cut. Just simply listened, maybe gave some advice, and then he would go on correcting Jin on his bullshit. 

Classic Namjoon’s.

"I don’t even think he will write back or something… I wrote him, yeah that’s true.. But I don’t expect a reply." 

All his friends at the table stared him down. Ready to kick his small little ass. 

"Jimin you stupid fucking moron.” He glared at the pale boy who was finally eager to state his own opinion on this. 

Min Yoongi in his whole presence. 

Just a few minutes ago, he was all uninterested, poking in his salad and asking random people for advice on a history exam he had in a few hours. Likewise, Jimin also tried not to give two shits about his advice whatsoever. So why did he suddenly catch interest in it? 

“If you really think he wouldn’t reply, then that makes you again the weaker person." 

Trying not to look too engrossed, he gave his leftover fries to Taehyung’s girlfriend, Jess, who happily devoured them. He was absolutely good at avoiding eye contact, his hyung could try everything to lock eyes with him but he would never let him. 

"You described him as the nice, funny and understanding guy. Do you really think he didn’t wait every day for you to write him back?" 

Fuck, he had a point there. Rather than giving in, Jimin rolled his eyes and continued to stroke his untouched burger with his index finger. "I don’t know. There might be a chance that he changed." 

Yoongi’s little scoff was loud enough to witness and in the corner of his eye he could see him resting his hand on his forehead. His face screaming: absolutely irritated. 

"How would you know? You might haven’t even changed at all? What kind of hypocrisy is it in making yourself believe that he changed just because he got his share of fame? Have a little trust in him, would you?" 

Now Jimin started to get a bit frustrated. What did he even expect from him in the first place? That he would wait all day till the mail arrives and then cry his eyes out after realising Jungkook didn’t write back? He was not even expecting that, so why should he drive himself into doing it? 

"Hyung how about you mind your own business, huh?" 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, grabbed his notes and backpack while staring at him in disbelief before leaving.

The atmosphere now was absolutely awkward.

"I know you don’t wanna hear this… But Mister Min has a point there.”

Hoseok broke the silence. Thankfully, all the others sighed in relief and nodded their heads.

“Have a bit of trust in him. I’m not saying that you should wait for him every day to write you back or something. But just…”

His lips closed, teeth clenched, and his eyes twitched due to him urging them to close. Waiting for his brain to come up with a good word.

“Patience!”

He screamed, pointing at the confused Jimin who was now sliding back into his seat. Extremely embarrassed.

“Sorry.” He chortled. “Was I too loud?”

Tae brushed it off by making a gesture to make him continue his started speech.

“Anyways… You need to stay patient. Find a balance. Don’t be too disappointed every day, but also don’t give up on him. Give him his time.”

Everyone who was seated, slowly started to get up either going to classes or getting back to the dorms. Except for Jimin and Taehyung.

Jimin’s best friend was just staring at him. Hoping to see some kind of change of heart. He wanted the best for him, after all Jimin was always there for him too.

“And?”

Taehyung broke off the silence once again, while coughing the word out.

The blonde-haired boy peeled off the etiquette on his “Gatorade” bottle, and just nodded. What else should he even do at this point. 

He knew that they were actually saying the right thing. Even Yoongi hyung. Nevertheless, it was hard to stay calm about it. Jungkook was always someone he wanted to be close with, but he never had the guts to do something about it. Not to mention, playing it off, telling himself that it was just a kindergarten crush. When in reality it wasn’t.

“Stay strong dude. See you later?”

Giving him just one last little pat on the shoulder, he left.

Letting Jimin drown alone in his thoughts.

*

And like that the days went by. Pretty quickly, even Jimin needed to admit to that. 

College, work, hanging out with friends. All of that. Everyday.

Jungkook creeping up in his thoughts here and there, but never to such an extent as he expected. When he ate something, whereas he knew that Jungkook once loved too, he would think of him for a brief moment. And that was all. Smiling for a bit and then erasing him from his thoughts for the rest of the day. After days full of insomnia and lack of appetite… Finally, he felt like he could let go. 

It turned out that it was easier for him to let Kook go, even though he was sure that there was simply no chance that he would have read the letter the older wrote for him. 

Still… something about just writing his thoughts on a sheet of paper made him feel absolutely relieved. 

It felt like he sent these feelings and honest thoughts to Jungkook. Just in a weird and telepathic way. 

“Do you have the notes from that one lecture… uhm.. where we talked about 'The Catcher in the Rye’?”

As always Taehyung was grabbing Jimin back into reality. 

“Huh?" 

Jimin took his airpods out of his ears. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, confused as to what he wanted from him. 

They always studied together, especially when it came to the exams from Mr. Kim. Even though he was extremely awesome and an outstanding professor, he also expected thrice as much. 

Taehyung grabbed his notes, that were uhm… not really there? 

Jimin chuckled, going through his hair while searching for that one specific lecture where Kim was discussing Holden Caulfield’s character and if anyone felt the same as him in a specific time in their life. The blonde remembered that he was discussing with him a lot about that issue yet being careful about touching any parts that matched Holden’s character to his. 

He loved analysing the characters, and deep down he also loved to take a harsh comparison to them with himself. 

Holden was such a free nature, he never listened or cared about his environment and what they thought was the right thing for him. He just did what he needed to do, maybe even exaggerating a bit, in the process of finding himself. 

Jimin was actually the counterpart of him. He always cared and wanted to be accepted by his friends and family. Mentally, however he also felt like Holden. Trapped in a society where you needed to fulfil someone else’s dream, or someone else’s path. But what if one’s path was different? What if he doesn’t want to go to school, be an ace student and marry some women and create his own family? What if he just wants to do his own thing? Concentrating on just being happy? 

"Here we go.” He handed his friend a perfect 5-piece sheet of notes of all the analysing points Kim addressed. Just as Taehyung was grabbing the notes, his eyes started to glitter full of relief. 

“What would I ever do without you Jimin-ah!” Jimin winked at him, while offering him some honey butter chips. “You would terribly suffer.” He replied while trying to imitate a darker voice.  

Like that, they continued their work, helping each other out if there were some specific questions, reading out the passages of J. D. Salinger’s novel, and repeating all the points Kim addressed. 

“Ah shit.” Taehyung looked at his phone, quickly packing up his things and closing his MacBook. 

Jimin smiled, he forgot the time once again and realised he needed to go to some date with Jess. 

Typical Taehyung. 

“Hurry up or I’ll snitch on Jess the next time and make you bad!” Jimin replied quite happily, while smacking his friend’s ass with his book. 

“Dude don’t. That woman will stare at me with her medusa eyes!” He continued while grabbing things with a rushing panic, throwing it into his bag. 

Of course, it was all jokes and fun, and Jess would always forgive him no matter what. Due to Taehyung being extremely loveable of course. They had the best relationship, Jimin could think of. Both were the most amazing human beings, and their relationship was so healthy. He wished that one day, he would meet that one person too. And fell head over heels for someone. Hopefully once again. In the near future. 

“Ah Jiminie…" 

Jimin, who was still laying on his bed, looked over to the door frame where Taehyung was standing and still in the process of wearing his shoes. 

"I’m so happy that you are doing better." 

Jimin just smiled lightly as a reply, waving with his hand, indicating that he should leave already. A quick "love you, bye!” and then he was gone. 

The blonde went back into laying on his stomach, grabbing the novel. It looked horrible, completely read out and crinkled. Showing how much, he actually loved it. 

Just like that, the late afternoon turned into an early night. 

Taehyung came along with him after a lecture they visited together. They both ordered food, as always, and then started to switch their notes. Of course, Jimin was more thorough when it came to writing notes, but it didn’t bother him at all to help his friend out. Tae was amazingly good at analysing. Thoughts that he never imagined would come up in Tae’s brain in an instant. 

Such an intelligent but absolutely lazy boy. 

Now it was already past 8pm. The thought of needing to eat was alarming in the back of his head. But he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. 

After a quick search, he found a single pack of Ramen. He quickly put the pot on the stove and waited till the water heated up. 

Suddenly, he heard someone knocking on his door. 

His doorbell stopped working for some reason, so therefore his friends would just message him that they were there. Taehyung was the only one who would knock, but first, he was already gone and secondly, he had a weird knocking style.

He would abuse his door as a percussion to be exact.

“Who is it?” He anxiously raised his voice a little. But still no reaction. 

“Whoever that may be. Can you just tell me who you are?" 

Still no reaction. After a while, the person started to knock again. 

Jimin was prepared for moments like these. He quickly grabbed a pretty unsharp butter knife and put his ear on the cheap door. He could swear he heard someone snickering. His heartbeat was increasing rapidly. 

One hand was wandering from the door to the knob, while the other held tightly the grip on the knife. 

Slowly he opened the door, his heart stopping momentarily, after seeing someone who seemed to be dressed completely in black. 

Thank god, the person had some great taste though that’s for sure.

First he saw the shoes, just some plain black converse chucks, then his eyes wandered up to the person’s pants. Also black, with some chains dangling around the area where the pockets were. Once he found his way to the person’s torso, the man was grabbing him by his arms. 

The smaller one from both of them, who seemingly was Jimin, started to shut down his eyes. Completely terrified. 

"Hyung? Can you just stop the games and look me straight in the eye?” The taller man broke the silent awkward atmosphere. 

For some reason, the voice sounded so familiar but at the same time completely foreign. 

Jimin opened his eyes slowly, looking up to the man, still squinting. 

“It’s me. Jungkookie." 

*

Silence. 

Awkwardness…

Now sitting in front of each other, Jimin felt completely bamboozled. 

Was this some reality show? 

"Your tea is getting cold… there..” Jimin raised his index finger and aimed for the little teacup. 

“Ah yeah. That’s fine. I’m not really here to drink tea to be honest." 

The younger one, took a sip from his tea while staring, confidently, at the older one. 

Jimin quickly looked away, feeling how his heart started to go crazy in his chest. 

"Hyung, how have you been?” Jungkook came closer to him, dragging the chair as close as possible to the table, staring at the nervous hands of the older one. 

“Nothing much. Just college stuff." 

Biting on his under lip, he realised how happy he felt but at the same time his guilt started to come back and nagged on his intestines. 

"Oh hyung.” Jungkook rolled his eyes while grabbing Jimin’s tiny hands. It was an unexpected gesture. Kook’s hands however, were so warm. Jimin’s hands in comparison were freezing cold. Jimin realised that he appeased himself more.

“I’m sorry, Kookie…" 

Here he was. Sitting in front of him. Holding his hands, as if he was the one that fucked up. Even though it needed to be the other way around. 

"I fucked up.”

He couldn’t handle the emotions that were starting to tear him apart. The complete opposite sides of emotions were clashing with each other, overwhelming him. Happiness on one hand, since Jungkook finally found his way back to him, but sadness because he felt like he did not deserve it. Relief, as it seemed like Jungkook came back to accept his letter, but on the other hand also guilt. Since it was not fair of him to believe that he would gladly do that. 

“Hyung…” Jungkook’s grip on Jimin’s hands was tighter now and while he looked at him, smiling softly, seeing the tears flowing down on the pale skin of the older one, he couldn’t overcome his heart bursting. Seeing him like this was not his aim. Not at all. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, pulling Jimin’s hands closer to him. Dragging him softly to him, so that Jimin had no choice but to slightly get dragged up on the table. 

Softly, he kissed Jimin’s hands. Making Jimin just sob even louder than he was before. 

“No, you didn’t.” Jungkook’s voice broke. 

Jimin looked at him. Frightened that he made him cry as well.

The black-haired boy was still covering his face with Jimin’s hands. It felt so natural, and there was no sign of weirdness in the air. Something about this touch felt too familiar. 

And then he realised…

When they were younger, Jimin would always grab Kookie’s hands and lay them on his cheeks. It was something he always did when Kookie would run behind him before school. And quickly, Kookie would turn silent. Acting shy. 

What both never really knew was, that both of their hearts were beating strongly. Together. 

“I’m so sorry too." 

Finally looking up from the older’s hands. "I missed you a lot." 

Jimin smiled. Standing up, while still having Jungkook’s hands intertwined with his. Jungkook followed his action, also standing up. The height difference made him chuckle even more. And quickly like that the tears were forgotten. 

"I missed you so much.” Jimin replied, while falling onto the younger’s chest. 

So many years, both of them were silently loving each other. Trying to forget, trying to erase all the memories. But it was impossible. And now both of them were here, standing in Jimin’s crappy apartment holding each other in their arms and forgetting the hurtful years that they lived without each other. 

“But wait a second!” Jungkook broke away from the hug, quickly wiping his tears, and then grabbing Jimin’s hand once again. 

“Hmm let’s take a look…" 

"Aw come on. Really? Still, to this day?" 

Jimin just chuckled, while Jungkook was testing out if his pinkie was finally taller than Jimin’s. And of course, it was. There was no need to even look. Jungkook’s hands were enormous in comparison to Jimin’s tiny hands. 

"You know what that means?" 

The blonde just laughed and quickly hit the younger one’s chest rapidly. 

"First we need to have some dates. Don’t you think?" 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, while dragging the younger one back into his arms. "So many problems along the way. Horrible!” He joked, while grabbing Jimin’s head softly, dragging him onto his chest.

The older one took the chance to take in the beautiful smell of Jungkook. It was hard to describe, something sweet but in the same way not extremely intrusive. Rather delicate, soft. He could swear somewhere while smelling it, he could sense… lavender? And in an absolute weird way… He swore that he also smelt the only perfume his mom would wear back then. 

While his head was still dug into Jungkook’s chest, he felt how his eyes formed tears once again. He felt like he smelt all the mesmerizing things again that was once everyday life. Jungkook smelt like Busan, like his dog “Doraemon” and like all the cherry popsicles they both blissfully devoured. 

He smelt like home. 

Jimin realised how much he missed his hometown. He had the urge to go back and just relive everything with Kookie. 

All these thoughts rushed into his mind, and it made him feel hopeful for the future. 

He looked up to the black haired boy who was still snickering cutely, and Jimin had the urge to poke his cheeks. He was so adorable, the way he smiled, had the same impact on him like a single shot of soju. It loosened his nerves and he felt like he wasn’t as tense anymore. 

He had a feeling that he could fight every problem that would come to tackle him, eye to eye. 

“Do you want to stay overnight?" 

Jimin silently asked. Wishing he would accept his offer. 

Jungkook hugged him even tighter, as if Jimin would run away from him, if he said no. "I wish I could say yes… But I can’t. Not today." 

Jimin nodded, while poking his nose against the younger’s hard chest. "I cannot wait till you can." 

*

The light of the sun was shining through the thin curtain. Sun rays tickling the blonde’s face, waking him up softly. 

Jimin was confused. It was already morning? He would normally wake up in between his restless sleep, sometimes he would even lay in bed and stop wishing for sleep. Just accepting that he won’t sleep. 

His dear old friend insomnia. 

However, yesterday was different. He fell asleep right there, as if somebody were using a remote controlling him. Pushing the "off” button. 

It felt like weeks where Jimin was last sleeping peacefully. It was a relieving feeling. No headache was awaiting him, or the urge to chug down  5 cups of coffee to get through the day. 

Of course his problems were still awaiting him nonetheless. Yet the anxiety… was on a way lower level. He felt like he could easily confront his frustration as well as his insecurities. 

He was hopeful. 

And just as that, he realised how much time he actually had left. Enough to take a longer shower, and even enough to eat a little breakfast. 

Normally “breakfast” wasn’t included in his life. Time was always running, and he rarely had time to dress up. 

Today was an exception whatsoever.

While making him a little breakfast that included coffee, eggs some tomatoes and bread his phone vibrated quite aggressively on the kitchen counter. 

Quickly, he grabbed his phone, at the same time also trying to manage his eggs who were really close to burning. 

“Jimin-ssi, did you sleep well? I want to see you. Let’s meet up shouldn’t we? I will be there next to you sooner or later. Wait for me. I want to surprise you.”

P.S: Also here is a little something for you :3" 

Jungkook always drew little sketches back then in Busan, and would deliver it to Jimin in all different ways. It was a cute habit, and Jimin was sure he still had the sketches somewhere in a box. 

The sketch that Kook drew this time, involved someone who seemed to smile shyly. His cheeks were all smudgy, probably on purpose to give it a cute look. The eyes of that person were covered by someone else’s hands. Who that person was, is not known. You couldn’t really see the body of that person, just the hands that were caressing the smiling person’s eyes. 

The person was no one other than Jimin himself. 

He was awed by how good Jungkook’s sketch looked. It was drawn quickly, but he seemed to work on the details after the first outline. Like the smudged grey pencil stains on the cheek, or the shadows that he must’ve drawn quickly afterwards. 

It made him feel cherished. 

Jungkook took the time out of his own busy life to draw this little painting of them, and it made him fall even more in love with him.

* “Damn, Jimin is everything alright?” Jin went through Jimin’s blonde hair, then caressing his forehead checking as if he had high temperature. In return he rolled his eyes trying to push Jin’s hands away. “He seems so cheerful and motivated today? He even contributed to Ms. Hwang’s class… Puhhh..!” Jess dropped her backpack on the table and continued to rub her temples. Ms. Hwang was an old grumpy lady who wasn’t born to teach at all. There was no respect to her students whatsoever and anything that she liked, was mostly the same opinion she had, or people who just kissed her ass for the sweet extra credit. A horrible prof, how it should be presented in the dictionary. “I don’t know. It’s just nice. I feel like things are getting better for me… I don’t know..?” One by one, everyone started to take a seat. As if they telepathically saw Jimin with good mood, and couldn’t believe it. “So how is Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, quite interested. That was completely shocking to anyone who sat at the table, they looked at him as if they were worried. “You really care?” Jimin asked, once again avoiding eye contact. “Yup. I wouldn’t ask, if I didn’t care.” He grabbed an apple and bit into it, directly looking at the younger boy. “He is absolutely amazing." 

* After spending some quality time with his friends, he was preparing himself to go back to work. Normally Taehyung would join him, just keeping an eye on him and spending some alone time with his friend. Today however, Jimin told him that it was fine. That he did not need to come along with him. Jimin always felt bad for needing Taehyung in such an excessive manner. His best friend had a girlfriend and he should spend some quality time with her too. They both were heavily interested in art, therefore Jimin gave them two tickets for a well-known atelier opening that one of his classmates gifted him. Jimin helped that particular classmate out with a literature exam once, so he wanted to thank him in return with them. They both deserved it. They were always there for him, now it was time for Jimin to give back. As soon as he started his work, he became even more relaxed than he already was. He wished that this feeling… Being hopeful about the future… would eventually stay. Jungkook was also a big part of it, it felt like he showed him all the good parts of life, and he welcomed that. One by one all the known customers were starting to give their order. Normally, there wouldn’t be that many new customers, the cafe was near college and it was mostly either college kids who want to work peacefully or the elderly who want to kill time. All in all, pretty peaceful. Today, however, there was someone wanting to take an order that Jimin never met before. He tried to remember but there was no way that he knew that person. That specific person was wearing glasses and a bucket hat, wearing completely black. After working on that order and putting it onto the glass counter in front of that unknown person, he heard a familiar giggle. Jeon Jungkook. Of course. "Oh my god. What are you doing here? Isn’t that a bit too risky?!” Jimin whispered while nervously taking the money from Kook. “That’s all fine. People rarely look at me, when I come with this attire.” He responded while showing off his clothes. Jimin couldn’t contain a snicker. 

What a stupid idiot he was…

“Is that what you meant with 'surprise’?" 

"No, my surprise is actually a picnic in Han river. I wanted to see you. That’s all.” The blonde couldn’t stop himself from putting his hand on his chest. His heart pounded loudly, and this time it didn’t come from panicking. “When?" 

"Whenever. I don’t have any schedules today and tomorrow. I just had a comeback a few weeks ago. It was simple, so the promotions aren’t that long. My company is also pretty nice and let me take some days off.” Jungkook took his food, without even looking back and waiting for an answer, he quickly sat down on the next best table. Of course it was a table that was right next to Jimin.  The blonde rolled his eyes, yet wholeheartedly accepting the risk that they both put themselves into. He trusted Jungkook, and he felt happy to be next to him. 

*

Looking at the old clock right next to his working space, he realised that his shift was ending sooner than he expected. “Ready to go to the picnic?” He asked Kook who was still managing to look like he was reading. “Finished already?” He quickly put down his book, his grimace looking like he was so disappointed that he needed to stop reading. “Do you know that you are an idiot?” Jimin responded with a slightly rougher tone. Jungkook smiled while taking off his sunglasses, even though he still wore a mask, Jimin could see the skin next to his eyes wrinkling. Without a proper response, he gently grabbed Jimin’s hands and put back his sunglasses on. And like that both left the establishment, making the customers question themselves who that good-looking man was, who has Jimin wrapped around his little finger. * “Ughh, I’m so full…” Jimin stroked his stomach, while looking at the leftover food. It was nearing the end of the day, and he realised how today felt like a quick catch of breath. The whole time, they were spending together, seemed to be packed in indulging their childhood and missing the time where they couldn’t be one. “Really? Already? You were always a bad eater..!” Jungkook responded while quickly grabbing the leftover spring rolls and tteokbokki. “It’s so good to dib it into the sauce, ahh you’re missing out.” “I really did.” Jimin said to himself while looking at the hungry Jungkook devouring the last bit of food. He closed his eyes and felt how fresh the wind was feeling on his skin. The night was still young, but he already felt how tired he actually was. This day was an improvement to the last couple of weeks. But he knew that he needed to improve more; to be the person he always yearned to be. For some it might feel far-fetched to say that Jungkook was the reason why Jimin felt better. And maybe it even was. Nevertheless, wasn’t it normal when specific people in your life made you feel better about yourself? Wasn’t it the case in a healthy relationship ? “Thank you, Jungkookie.” The black-haired boy was looking up from his food, midst slurping his noodles. Tilting his head like a confused puppy. Jimin caressed the crumbles on the corner of his lips away, and locked eyes with his lover. Jungkook quickly finished his noodles, before coming closer to the blonde. Jimin took this as a chance to grab Kook’s chin to face him again. And there it was. The soft shy smile the younger, once gifted him. Right there at that moment, Jimin knew what he wanted. “I love you.” It was as simple as that. Jimin pecked Jungkook’s lips softly, tasting like all the sweet promises they gave each other. “I thought you would never say that.” Jungkook replied while kissing him right back. A bit rougher, but still soft enough. Without them even realising it, the sun went down, both of them finally admitting their deep-rooted history. Waiting for such a long time, made the kiss even sweeter, Jimin thought to himself. Sometimes you find people in a state of life, when you need them the most. And sometimes the people who were once your hope, come back and decide to stay all over again. They both kissed for such a long time that Jimin didn’t notice how his phone was vibrating aggressively on the blanket underneath them. Until finally Jungkook let go of the kiss, smiling shyly while pointing at the phone that was still annoying the peaceful state they were in. “You wanna take it?” “Ughhh.. who is the cockblocker, do I need to kill him…” Jimin whispered more to himself, while grabbing his phone and checking the messages. “Ah fuck, I completely forgot..” Jimin stood up quickly, searching for his keys and bag. While Jungkook was still sitting on the blanket, cross-legged, patiently waiting for him to give a proper response. “My friends have that night where we all meet up at our favorite bar to drink and eat while talking about all the shit we went through. We mostly do that once in a month.” Jungkook raised his eyebrows, still looking at the confused and panicking Jimin. “It’s okay, if you need to go. I’ll clean this up and we meet up tomorrow?” Jimin laughed, acting like it was the dumbest idea he heard. “No, no, no. Sir! You are coming with me. You will meet them!” Jungkook quickly stood up from the blanket and looked at him all shocked. His doe-like eyes widened. “Already?” Jimin nodded, quickly cleaning their little spot and putting the plastic into the next close trash can. “They will love you! They are a bit chaotic but that’s actually endearing, trust me!” He grabbed Jungkook’s hand and dragged him with him. This is going to be an interesting night, that’s for sure…

*

The club where they meet up once in a month was the city’s hottest place. Every college kid wanted to spend their Friday nights there, it was heavily crowded, therefore you mostly needed to reserve a table beforehand. That job was actually Jin’s, but he usually forgets, so thus Joon took over. Whenever a month was coming to an end, they all meet up, talk about their experiences and drown their worries with alcohol. It was a tradition all of them enjoyed. And Jimin knew that they all wanted to get to know Jungkook, so why not now? “Ah, I heard of this place.” Jungkook screamed, now wearing his whole attire again, hoping to prevent any potential fans catching him. He hoped he could get a glimpse of Jimin’s friend group, who told him a lot of things about them but it was so crowded that it was extremely hard. “They are all up there, we have an own lounge. So you don’t need to wear all of this!” Jimin screamed back, the music was too loud down there and he was happy when he could meet his friends soon. The younger was obedient and let himself drag around the club, while looking at all the different things that were happening. Jimin couldn’t contain a smile, Jungkook was so precious. “Guys! HEY!” Jimin first saw Yoongi, then Hoseok then all the others. They were all dressed fancily, and Jimin quickly felt like he was way underdressed. “Oh, hey guys!” Hoseok catched that both of the boys were still holding hands, and quickly smiled brightly. “You need to be Jungkook?” Jimin saw his look so he quickly let go, feeling embarrassed. His face rapidly getting tomato red. Jungkook quickly took off his mask, bucket hat and glasses with one hand, while the other was still shamelessly taking a hold onto Jimin’s waist. Which made Jimin blush even more. “Yes, I am. Hello!” He bowed, and went back into holding Jimin’s waist. The others were all smiling brightly, indeed happy about the outcome of Jimin’s known backstory with him. “Take a seat. You are the youngest, so you don’t need to buy anything!” Jin quickly chimed in, while pointing at the free seats next to Taehyung and Jess who were both laughing uncontrollably. Gosh how he hated his best friends sometimes. “So you are Jimin’s boyfriend?” Yoongi dropped the bomb as soon as they were taking a seat and Jimin wished he didn’t choose to come. It must’ve been so uncomfortable to Jungkook. 

Because it sure as hell was for him. Besides, both of them didn’t really talk about being officially together, what made the situation way more awkward. “Yes. I am. As long as Jimin is content with that decision?” He quickly looked at Jimin who was shocked. Here was dominant boyfriend Jungkook again. Jimin felt how his cheeks were burning. He just nodded. Not knowing how else to reply with. The black-haired boy was now freely putting his arm around his now “boyfriend”. It felt surreal to be called that way. And even though it wasn’t really romantic how he asked him, it still felt amazing that he did it in front of his friends. The closest people to him. He wasn’t even doubting this question one bit. “Ah okay. That’s nice to hear.” Yoongi responded softly, while still keeping his eyes on Jungkook. He was protective of Jimin, everybody knew that. However, something about Yoongi looking at Jungkook that way, made everyone accept Jungkook even more: Yoongi smiled. He smiled while looking at the youngest of the batch, accepting it fully. As long as Yoongi was accepting of someone, everybody else in their group of friends trusted that person as well. 

Kind of like the mom of group. The couple of hours they all spent together was magical. It felt like Jungkook always was a part of the group, his humor was the same kind as that from the group and even Taehyung was happily accepting him as a member of their little squad. Jimin and Jungkook were also the only ones who denied any alcohol. They both were already intoxicated of this beautiful relaxing night, that they didn’t need any of it. Who thought it could be that easy? Jimin definitely didn’t. A couple of weeks ago, he wouldn’t have thought in a million dreams that Jungkook would sit right next to him, an arm around him, kissing him and asking him if he was alright, while all of his friends were present. It was like a fever dream. Just entirely positive. “I think it’s time for us to go. Thank you guys for today.” Jimin openly said to the little group, some already highly drunk while others were nodding happily back. He waved them all goodbye and before he could leave for good, along with Jungkook, there was a hand on his shoulder making him stop. “Hey, wait a minute.” It was Taehyung. “I just wanted to say how happy I am, that you guys met up again. There is nothing as precious as loving and being loved. But never forget…!” His gaze now hit Jungkook, who was severly confused. “If you ever manage to hurt my baby boy here…!” Taehyung, heavily tipsy, laid his head on Jimin’s shoulder, while pointing at Jungkook. Giving him a clear warning. Of course this was absolutely cute and of course no bad feelings were intended. It made the couple chuckle and they both gave him a goodbye hug before they left. On their way to Jimin’s apartment, hand in hand, the older realised what actually happened today. Also in what kind of head space he also was. It wasn’t perfect, here and there he still tried to control his anxiety but he felt better, he felt hopeful. They both talked for a while, after arriving at Jimin’s little home and continued to giggle about the response Jimin’s friends gave them. The butterflies that once annoyed Jimin when he thought of Jungkook, were now fluttering inside his stomach again. Now, however, he was accepting it. Completely intoxicated by love, for once he welcomed the future that was awaiting him. * The next morning started like the day before. The sunlight was dancing once again on Jimin’s face, welcoming him for today. He opened his eyes, trying to cover his eyes with his small little hand. Next to him, his boyfriend. Still sleeping peacefully, eyes twitching here and there. “Kook-ah..” Jimin softly whispered while kissing him all over his face. Covering him, with tiny little smooches. 

“Hmmm..”

There was not really a response, but Jimin smiled whatsoever. He loved sleepy Kookie. He was even more adorable in this state.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He said like a mantra, finally making Kook respond with the biggest smile. “Say it once more!” Jimin shook his head, acting like he was angry, ready to jump off the bed. “Hey, say it again..!” Kook quickly grabbed Jimin by his waist dragging him back to bed, kissing him directly on the lips. “You are the only one that tastes still so sweet in the morning, how are you doing that?” Jimin chuckled while kissing him right back.

There are so many obstacles that are awaiting me…

The anxiety will maybe never leave me…

And the uncertain feelings about the future will probably continue to haunt me…

I have a long way to go… But with you it seems like a quick walk to the store…

[dramione4e]

Red and Green

Dramione | Marriage Law AU Raiting: T

So this is my first attempt at writing a Dramione fic. Is a One Shot that you can also find here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26831194

~

Draco Malfoy was a lucky man. 

 Seven years ago, he had avoided going to Azkaban; he had been able to clean his family name by donating obscene amounts of money to several charities; he’d gotten a very decent job at the Ministry as a Senior Auror and, as if he deserved it, had a circle of close friends, many of them he could even call family. 

 But, damn, he was going to need something more than sheer luck to get out of this mess free or even alive. 

“I’m not entirely sure this is OK, Weasley,” he half whispered, half shouted while looking at both ways of the empty street with an anxious look on his face while his former enemy and now also Auror partner, worked on removing the wards of the house that belonged to none other than Hermione Granger. 

 “I told you, Malfoy,” said Ron, dragging his words. “She showed me how to enter her house in case of an emergency. Just a few more spells and we’ll be able to get in.”

 The plan that both of them had come up with just an hour ago at the Leaky Cauldron was just to go to her house and talk to her. It made sense at the time but now Draco was sobering up and suddenly it didn’t seem like a good idea so much as breaking and entering.

 “Are you sure she is home?” he insisted. “We’ve been pounding at her door for ages.”

 “Believe me, she’s a heavy sleeper.” 

 That made Draco’s insides cringe a little bit. He didn’t like thinking about how Weasley knew such intimate information. Not like he was jealous or anything, the former Slytherin was just pointing out that he himself didn’t know that.

 He heard a click and the door finally swung open. Ron ushered him inside and followed him into the sitting room. It was very early in the morning so it was still a little dark inside. The place still looked the same as he remembered from the previous time he had been invited over for drinks when the gang was celebrating something he couldn’t ever care about now. 

 His red haired partner went upstairs to look for the witch but came back without her. 

 “She’s not home.”

 Yep. Breaking and entering. Good bye, freedom.

 “I guess we'll just have to sit here and wait for her,” the former Gryffindor announced, plummeting on the couch.

 “Are you mental?” 

 But before he got an answer, the front door was opened and he heard a scream coming from behind him.

“What part of for emergencies was so difficult for you to understand, Ronald?!” Hermione was yelling at both wizards who were now sitting on the couch while she was pacing from right to left in front of them. “Do you have any idea how long it takes me to set up wards like this?!”

 None of them answered. The room was fully lighted now and there was a lingering smell of Pepperup Potion in the air.

 “I could have seriously injured you, you fools!” Hermione kept on lecturing them. Ron had his head down, looking ashamed at the floor but Draco could not look away from the sight in front of him.

 Dear Salazar, what is she wearing? 

 His mental question was rhetorical. Draco was no longer a stranger to Muggle culture, in fact he prided himself on how much he’d learned over the past few years. Hermione had been actually the main source of help as she was now the owner of a company that fussed magic with Muggle technology in a safe and convenient way and said company also provided training and seminars to educate magical beings on how to use appliances, electronics and others.

 Besides attending all of the lectures, he had also expanded his knowledge by asking Hermione for more sources on different Muggle topics and he remembered reading about sports and exercise. Still, one thing was looking at pictures of random strangers in textbooks and a very different thing was to have the Gryffindor princess model the outfit.

 She was wearing high waisted leggings that went from under her belly button to the skin above her ankles, and was it called a sports bra? Whatever it was, it left her flat belly totally exposed and Merlin! he was being hypnotized by the swing of her hips and the drops of sweet that ran down her neck to her chest and disappeared inside her small top. Even though she was mostly covered, that outfit left little to the imagination, in his opinion.

 She’d explained she had gone running very early in the morning, something that perhaps she’d happened to mention she usually did but the two brilliant Aurors, in the state they were, couldn’t have possibly remembered.

 When she finally calmed down and the Pepperup Potion kicked in, the men were able to express their apologies which she begrudgingly accepted.

 “Anyway, why are you here?” her tone was softer, but she had her arms crossed in front of her.

 “Remember when I told you I would keep you informed about the Marriage Law?” Ron asked.

 Ah.

 Malfoy had almost forgotten the reason he was there in the first place.

 Five years after the war was over, the Ministry of Magic came to the realization that the wizarding population in the country had alarmingly decreased. Furthermore, the expected “Baby Boom” didn’t pan out because of a large adoption campaign -founded principally by the only Malfoy heir- to help children who became orphans after the war get a home. 

 Two years ago, the Ministry announced that now witches and wizards of marriageable age had a year and a half to find a suitor or suitress to marry, otherwise the Ministry would assign one based on the results of an old ritual that conjured ‘core matching magic’ and ‘soulmate bonding’ in addition to several compatibility tests that they were all ask to fill -some even under Veritaserum.

 “Why? Did you find out who I was paired with?” She took a seat on the armchair in front of them. “Is it someone bad?”

 “Yes, it’s bad, ‘Mione,” her best friend answered quickly.

 Fucking Weasley. Aren’t we supposed to be friends now?

 Draco had indeed developed a strong friendship with Ron Weasley and subsequently with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger -they were a package deal apparently-. Although the last two he didn’t see that often, with Granger he regularly engaged in pleasant conversations about the recent creations of her company, his most interesting cases as an Auror; also literature, music and films (Muggle and otherwise); their interests and, well, many things. 

 She was a very interesting woman and, in the recent past, he had admitted to himself that they had a lot in common and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if someday they went out to dinner together, just the two of them, as in a date. Still, he had never thought that they would be a perfect match, according to the experts at the Ministry. The highest one on the list by far. 

 After the initial shock had worn out, he’d felt elated. His co-workers had even patted him on the back as if this was his highest accomplishment. Hermione Granger, The Brightest Witch of Her Age, was his match. His soulmate. He was floating.

 When the high that this information gave him ended, he started questioning if he really deserved it. In his mind, they were perfect for each other. After all opposites attract, right? 

 She was a Gryffindor; he was a Slytherin.

 She was Muggle-born; he was a Pureblood.

 She was a member of The Order of the Phoenix; he was a Death Eater.

 Ugh.

 She was smart, beautiful, kind, honest, generous, brave; he was… 

 Guilt had been eating him all day. Maybe they were not a good match after all. Red and green didn’t go well together, right?

 That’s how he ended drinking with Ron.

 “Well? Who is it?” her apathy had now changed into wariness. 

 “I can’t tell you. All ministry workers signed up a non-disclosure agreement and until the owls are sent to the respective witches and wizards, we can’t say, write, point, mimic, spell-”

 “For fuck’s sake, Ron!” she interrupted and stood up again, her arms akimbo her hips. “Why the hell did you bother coming here if you can’t even tell me?!”

 At this, Weasley smirked, “Luckily for you, ‘Mione, we found a loophole,” he said smugly and pointed to himself and Draco even when it had been the blond Slytherin’s idea at the pub. “If you guess the name of this person, I could nod or shake my head without breaking the contract.”

 That seemed to somewhat relax her.

 “OK, so, I’m guessing is someone we know, must be single, and the age…” she muttered more to herself biting her lip. “And you said it’s bad? Does he work at the ministry?” She looked at the red head for confirmation and he nodded at both questions.

 “Oh, no.”

 Here we come.

 “Is it McLaggen?”

 Weasley shook his head.

 “Is it Smith from finance?” 

 Another head shake.

 “Parry?”

 No.

 “Hodgson?”

 No.

 “Mullins?”

 No.

 “The one that works in the same office as your father?”

 Every name was followed by a head shake and Draco was elated to know he didn’t even make the list.

 “Oh, no,” her eyes opened wide and now Draco was sure he was about to hear his own name. “Is it you?” but she was still looking at Weasley. 

 “Oi!” Weasley countered. “You’d be lucky if that were the case!”

 At this Hermione rolled her eyes and left an exasperated scoff, “I don’t have time for this, I’m gonna be late for work.”

 She dismiss them and disappeared upstairs.

 Malfoy couldn’t fight the smile that crept up his lips.

Draco was waiting outside of Granger, Inc. in Diagon Alley. After he and Ron left her house, he went home and immediately owled the witch to ask if she would be available for lunch. When he got her reply accepting his invitation, he went to bed for a few hours, after all, he’d needed to regain his beauty sleep.

 His head hurt a little and he was sure it wasn’t a hangover. Thoughts about how to best approach the subject swirled in his mind and thoughts about her reaction after she found out tormented him. However, he had come prepared to hear the worst and the best.

 “I’m ready.” The witch had stepped out of her office, bringing him out of his stupor. He noticed she was no longer wearing sportswear. Instead she fashioned a velvet looking set of robes that went from a very dark purple at the bottom to a faded, light lilac at the top. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

 Apparently leggings were not necessary for him to go into a trance. When the person was Hermione Granger it didn’t matter what she was wearing. That morning she had looked sexy and provocative and now she, only a few hours later, was the picture of elegance and professionalism and he liked both looks the most.

 When he came back to his senses he cleared his throat, “Shall we?” he asked and they walked together towards a close restaurant where they had met in the past with some of their friends.

 After ordering their drinks and meals, the gray eyed man thought he should just rip off the band aid.

 “I wanted to apologize,” he began. “For the incident this morning. Weasley and I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk and acted so stupidly.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged. “I was mostly mad at Ron for messing with my wards, I can tell the whole thing was his idea.” At this, the waiter came back with their drinks and put them on the table.

 “So, did you want to talk to me about something or is this just an ‘apology lunch’?” she inquired with a playful tone and then took a sip of her beverage, never taking her eyes off him.

 He was about to answer when he noticed the intentional look she was giving him and her raised eyebrow.

 “You know?” he ventured.

 “I’m not sure if I know,” she corrected. “I thought you just happened to be with Ron when he concocted his stupid plan this morning,” she mused. “But then after I got your owl, I thought that maybe it was you he was referring to.”

 He nodded to answer her implied question and automatically felt the binding lifting from him. Now that she knew, he was free to talk.

 “Why were you in such an urgent state to let me know?” she inquired. 

 “Weasley said you weren’t going to be happy with the news and he thought it was best to warn you as soon as possible,” he explained. “He said you would come up with a way to avoid the match and get a different guy.”

 “I probably could,” she offered and he knew she was so popular and well-connected in the Ministry that even if she couldn’t get herself out of the whole program, it would take no more than an owl asking them to change her match for them to go ahead and do it. “Is that what you want?”

 No. 

 Was this the best case scenario? Of course not. He would have liked to ask her out on proper dates, build up a relationship and eventually take things to a more serious level. He could easily see them becoming more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. So far, he already liked everything about her. He had dived inside her mind several times to know that.

 Not to mention that she got more beautiful by the day, and no, the glimpse of what her body looked like under the robes had nothing to do with it.

 OK, maybe a little. It was a perk.

 Anyways, the witch was waiting for a response. Should he just take the plunge or listen to the Ron Weasley inside his head, telling him he was a bad choice for her?

 “I know it is not ideal,” he answered. “I mean, to start a relationship with what is basically a forced marriage in which we are expected to wait only a year before we start having children. Not even pureblood arrangements work that way.

 “It is not fair for either of us,” at that moment the waiter interrupted him by bringing their plates. 

 Granger had kept quiet so far and just fixed him with a look that conveyed nothing. He’d learned that when she wanted, her face became unreadable, but he was not to be discouraged.

 He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 “I would hate to not be the one who marries you,” he dared to say and was pleased to see her cheeks become red. “If we were to do this my way, believe me that I would have courted you the right way. I swear I thought about asking you out many times in the last couple of years and now I feel like a complete idiot for not working up the courage to do it.

 “If you do me the honor of letting me be your husband,” he offered. “I vow to never take you for granted. We will take things slow. As slow as you want. I don’t want this marriage law to get in the way of dating you properly.

 “And you have my word that, if at any point you want out, you’ll be free to do it. I wouldn’t stop you,” he promised.

 She blinked a few times before she reached her hand across the table and put it on top of his.

 “I’d like that,” she answered, her honeyed eyes full of sincerity. “To date you, that is. I’ve also entertained the thought of asking you out a few times,” she admitted blushing even redder. “If in order to date we have to get married, then so be it.”

 He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and couldn’t stop the grin on his face. He turned his hand upwards to intertwine their fingers together and then brought her hand to his mouth at the same time he leaned in to plant a kiss on her knuckles. The electrifying feeling of her soft hand was going to be carved in his memory forever.

 “Thank you, Granger,” he murmured. 

 After they finished their lunches he was now walking her back to her office while holding hands. They were met with multiple stares and gasps along Diagon Alley but he didn’t mind one bit and she even made it seem as if she was oblivious to that.

 “So we’re dating now,” she stated, looking up to meet his eyes. 

 “Yes.” He found that just thinking about it made his face feel warm, but not intending to hide it, he looked back at her with what he hoped was a sincere smile. 

 They entered the building that was her business and Draco could see several heads turning to look at them.

 “Can we talk for a minute in your office?” he asked her and she agreed.

 Once the door was closed and locked he got close to her and took both her hands in his.

 “I know it seems like we are not given much of a choice about this, but,” he said feeling his hands getting sweaty with nerves. “In the off chance that you don’t realize along the way, that you are way out of my league and decide to leave me, I want to ask you the right way so we’ll be able to remember this moment forever.”

 Draco pulled out a small box from inside his robes and opened it in front of her. He heard her curse a ‘holy shit’ under her breath at the sight of the red and green tear-shaped tourmaline ring. Turns out that red and green did go well together. 

 He locked his eyes with hers and she gave him a small nervous smile, “Everything I know about you I already like and it would make me the happiest wizard if you let me learn more. I want to discuss not only academia and the news but also learn about your dreams and fears; I yearn to know how you take your tea in the morning and if you have a preferred side of the bed at night. I long for the happy moments, the new adventures, the memories we will create together and even the fights and arguments. I promise I will try my best to make you happy for as long as you have me.” He got down on one knee. 

 “Hermione Jean Granger,” he intoned. “Will you marry me?”

 The witch’s face was soaked with tears but her smile had gotten wider the more she listened to him.

 “Yes,” she croaked, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She extended her hand in front of her. 

 The wizard happily took it and slipped the ring onto her finger. He then stood up and felt Granger’s soft fingers over his own cheeks. 

 He hadn’t realized he had been crying too.

 “So, we’re really dating now,” she echoed her words from before, moving closer to him and resting her hands on his shoulders.

 “Yes,” he smiled and closed the gap between them, his fingers going up and down her back. “But we’re also engaged.”

 “We’re moving so fast,” she whispered a fake protest, her face only inches from his. 

 He hummed in agreement, his eyes were close now. 

 “And yet,” their noses touched, her voice barely audible. “We haven’t even kissed. That’s not fair, is it?”

 He couldn’t resist anymore. He pulled her closer -if that was even possible- and pressed his lips against hers. She was ready for him and quickly returned the kiss.

 Her lips were the softest and her taste was oh so sweet. 

 What started as slow and tender quickly became heated and passionate. It was new and exciting and yet so familiar. Their lips and tongues moved in a dance as old as time and when they finally stopped for air he opened his eyes to find her staring at him with a warm smile and even warmer eyes.

 She never looked so beautiful.

 Draco Malfoy was indeed a lucky man.

[probably-writing-x]

It had to be you.

Guzmán x Reader

Request by anon: I love your writings, I was wondering if I could request a guzman x reader where lu constantly ambushes the reader cause she knows guzman is in love with the reader and then guzman and lu end up breaking up cause he finally chooses the reader. Something within those lines, hope it’s not so much of a hassle! Keep writing ❤️❤️

Gif is not my own

Requests are open 🤍

“Guzmán, can you focus please?” Lu snaps her hand in front of him, “Or at least listen to me for a minute?”

“I’m sorry, but I have bigger things to worry about than your petty drama with your family,” Guzmán sighs, shaking a hand over his hair. 

“Are you kidding me?” Lu scoffs, “So you ignore me all weekend and then you act like I’m a pain for talking to you about my life?” She reaches up and fixes the lapels of his jacket. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Lu,” He pushes his hands away from her, grabbing his bag from where it was at his feet and hurrying to catch up with the person he’d been waiting for. 

You’re walking down the corridor at a pace quick enough to just about make it to class in time. 

“Hey, (Y/n), you doing okay?” He asks, tapping you on the shoulder. 

“Oh, hey Guzmán,” You smile, “I’m okay, are you?”

“Good. Do you have my notes from Chemistry? I need them for first period,” He comments, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“Yeah, shit, um, thank you for those. I really appreciate it,” You nod, grabbing them from your things and handing them back to him, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughs, “It’s the least I could do.”

He steps aside to let you into the class first and follows close behind you. You two hadn’t ever spent much time together before recent times but you’d found something in him that you hadn’t expected. You’d always been at Las Encinas but tried your best to keep yourself out of the typical group in your year. That was until everything happened with Marina, and Guzmán went through the type of loss he could never prepare himself for. You, in fact, had some experience in the area - after losing your brother only two years before. When Guzmán had confided in you, you’d found it impossible to say no to him, he was like a completely different person. 

“Hey, I was actually going to ask you,” He stops you yet again, scratching the back of his neck, “Are you free again tonight?”

“Yeah, sure, usual spot?” You smile, “I’ll see you later.”

“(Y/n)! Looks like you can get more conversation out of him than his own girlfriend can,” Lu speaks up, walking into the class with a smirk plastered across her face. 

“We’re just talking Lu,” You sigh, setting down your books and sitting in your designated chair.

“And what could be so important that it’s got him so occupied at the minute?” Lu scoffs, “Because honey, I don’t think you’ve had much interest in your life for the past seventeen years.”

“Lu, stay out of it. This has nothing to do with you,” Guzmán snaps, glaring at her before offering you an apologetic smile. 

“Nothing to do with me?” Lu laughs, “Fucking hell Guzmán, you’re spending more time with the fucking introvert than you are with your own girlfriend!”

“Lu, not now. I’m sorry (Y/n).”

You shake your head as means of dismissing his concern as he follows her back to their seats, ignoring her advances as she settles a hand on his thigh. 

You’d never intended on getting close to Guzmán and getting in the way of his and Lu’s relationship - you’d never tried to flirt with him or cause any problems. But apparently that just came with association.

- - - - - -

As you’re leaving school that day, you’re stopped before you can reach the car, as Lu grabs your arm and turns you to face her.

“Okay, darling,” She beams, glancing over her shoulders before turning to you with a deathly glare, “What’s going on with you and Guzmán?”

“Nothing Lu, it’s nothing,” You sigh, trying to push her off.

“Nothing? Then what’s with all the secrecy? Why do I see you together all the time? You were never interested in stealing my boyfriend before.”

You push her hand off, “And I’m still not interested in stealing anything or anyone. Maybe you need to think about being there for your boyfriend and supporting him instead of concerning yourself in matters that don’t mean anything.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And I think that’s the problem, darling,” You roll your eyes, walking the rest of the way to the car and leaving her stood with a vacant stare in your direction.

It was true. She was so caught up in you that she’d completely forgotten about Guzmán in this whole situation.

- - - - - -

“Alright, I got your favourite this time,” Guzmán grins as he climbs the ladder up to the top of the bell tower and sets down some cans of drink, “And... I got snacks too.”

“Wow, you treat me so well,” You joke, “Try not to eat all the pretzels this time though.”

He shuffles on the wooden floor to sit beside you and lean back against the bench behind your backs, “Hey, listen, I’m sorry about Lu.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” You shake your head, “It’s not your fault. And I can see why she’d be jealous, I guess.”

He scoffs, “I don’t think she can stand the idea of me spending any time with anybody but her. I don’t even remember the last time we had a real conversation, that wasn’t about her or school or some petty drama she wants to involve herself in.”

“But she cares about you, that’s at least something,” You point out, “And she’s attractive.”

Guzmán laughs, “I used to think that was enough, maybe it’s only recently that I’ve realised it isn’t.”

You sit in silence with him for a moment as you ponder the thought. You didn’t like the idea of him wanting to change his whole life based on the few months you’d spent knowing him. But damn did you love the idea of being the one who he loved.

“I really appreciate you being here for me recently, I guess I sort of threw all of this onto you,” Guzmán smiles sincerely.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, you’ve helped me just as much as I’ve helped you. Losing a sibling isn’t easy, and it’s even harder to go through that alone - whatever I can do to help you, you know that,” You assure him, “Besides, you always bring decent food.”

He chuckles, “A lot has changed in a few months, huh?”

“It doesn’t have to change much Guzmán. I know you’ve changed ever since you lost Marina, but Lu is there for you. She might not seem like it sometimes but it’s clear, even in her ambushing me, she does seriously care about you. She loves you, and she’s always there,” You point out, “There’s no reason why that should change.”

“No reason, yeah?” He smirks a little, “If you say so (Y/l/n).”

- - - - - -

The following day, you’re once again minding your own business at school. You’d spent the morning with Nadia revising for an exam and were now sat by one of the window seats reading up on some literature for class.

“Spending the evening with my boyfriend and you seriously want to tell me that nothing’s going on?” Lu’s voice sounds loud and clear from across the corridor, “You bitch!”

You glance up and set the book aside, sighing as you turn to focus on her.

“Who do you think you are? Walking around like you’re so innocent, so nice - when really all you want to do is to take what’s mine.”

“That’s not what’s happening Lu, even though I know it looks that way. I get it. But that’s not the case,” You shake your head, “Guzmán... he just needs help, support.”

“And you don’t think I can give that to him?”

“No, not at all. I think you’re more than capable. But sometimes you need to speak to someone who gets it, who’s been through it. And that’s what it’s like for us - you dont know what it feels like to lose someone like that Lu.”

She looks down at her feet, “I think in the process of you being his knight in shining armour, he’s started realising he doesn’t love me anymore. Maybe he never did.”

“I don’t know if that’s the case, or if it ever will be. But you’re playing a game that I don’t want to play. I never wanted to get between you and Guzmán, I never meant for any of this. I’m sorry Lu, but I was just being a good friend to him - anything that changed with you two wasn’t my doing.”

You collect your things and step past her, heading down the corridor quickly to avoid the stares in your direction. You’re only stopped as Guzman’s hand holds your arm.

“Hey, what’s going on? Everything okay?” He frowns, glancing momentarily at the people around, “Why’s everybody staring at you?”

“I’m sorry Guzmán, I cant do this anymore. I’m not getting involved in your whole whatever-this-is between you and Lu. Helping you out wasn’t supposed to destroy your relationship in the process, and it certainly wasn’t meant to make me your girlfriend’s worst enemy,” You shake your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t do it.”

You pull away from him and leave him dumbfounded in the middle of the corridor, swallowing the lump in his throat as he watches you walk away. God, that was never his intention. He’d just found someone in you that listened, that understood, that engaged with him when he spoke about Marina. Amongst that, he’d found someone that he’d always been missing when he saw you. He found someone funny, honest, caring, intelligent, and so certain of her future that she near enough convinced him that he could be successful too. He didn’t want to hurt Lu. But the pull he felt towards you was too powerful to ignore.

“Lu,” He quickly blurts out as he sees her storming past, “I think we need to talk.”

- - - - - -

“Well, I think this is the most we’ve spoken in a long time,” Lu scoffs as she sits down beside him on the bench, “Do you want to explain yourself Guzmán?”

“You need to stop being so harsh on (Y/n), none of this is her fault.”

“None of this? None of her spending every day with my boyfriend behind my back and knowing more about him than I do at the minute?” She scoffs, “Don’t act like she’s so innocent.”

“It’s not like that Lu,” Guzmán tuts, “She’s... she’s been there for me.”

“And I’m not?”

“No, no, you are. But (Y/n)... she understands. She can sympathise and relate to how I’ve been feeling. She’s helped me deal with losing Marina in a much better way than I would’ve done.”

“I don’t get it Guzmán. You barely spoke to the girl before this.”

“Exactly! I mean she’s been at school with us for years but it felt like I barely knew her. There’s so much more to her than I’d ever expected,” Guzmán smiles fondly, “She’s complex and sh-“

“I get the idea,” Lu rolls her eyes, “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

Guzmán pauses. Why didn’t he just tell her? Tell her that he was seeking help, that he was doing it for the right reasons. He could’ve explained himself and explained that they were just friends. Instead, he sat here now with every intention of ending things with Lu.

“You like her, don’t you?” Lu states, “I know that look, it’s the same one you used to give me.”

“I never meant for any of this Lu,” Guzmán shakes his head, “But I’m different when I’m around (Y/n)... I can’t explain it but I like who I am when I’m with her.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, it’s the same way I feel about you. And deep down I know you’ve never felt that way with me.”

“Lu...”

“Go, go and find her. We both know you want to.”

- - - - - -

You weren’t exactly sure why you’d come back to the bell tower, maybe because you partially hoped that Guzmán would still find you here. It was a weird mix of hoping to never get involved in his life again and also wanting nothing more than for what Lu said to be true.

Just then, you hear the sound of the hatch opening as Guzmán ascends the ladder and pushes himself up.

“Hey,” He says in relief as he sees you, “I hoped you’d be here.”

“Did you bring food?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “I have to talk to you (Y/n).”

You shuffle to make room for him beside you as he sits down, both of you silent as you look out at the sun in preparation to set.

“I spoke to Lu,” He states after some time, “I think we both needed to clear up a few things.”

“Yeah? Are you two back to being okay now?”

“Not exactly,” He laughs, “Or maybe just a different definition of okay.”

You look at him and frown, trying to keep composure as your heart ran at double speed.

“I never meant for any of this, and I certainly never meant to hurt Lu in the process. When I first spoke to you about Marina, it was because you’d been the first person to come up to me at school and tell me you were there if I needed to talk - and I believed you. When we first met here, it was because I wanted to know how you’d managed to cope with that feeling that was still so new to me. I was terrified of never being able to really deal with losing her, and you made it seem so clear.”

You swallow thickly.

“Somewhere, along the way, I found someone in you that went deeper than just how supportive you’d been. You were so much more than I’d ever seen,” He smiles and lets out a little chuckle, “You’ve made me some sort of romantic, clearly.”

“Guzmán...” You sigh, “I can’t get in the way of you and Lu. You know what she’s like.”

“Right, I do. And I know when I spoke to her today, it was like we’d both come to the same realisation. I needed to find you to realise the way that I’d never feel about her,” He shakes his head, “You make everything seem clearer (Y/n).”

You smile a little as he reaches over for your hand.

“There was never a choice to make (Y/n).”