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glassmarcus · 10 months ago

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Take a shot every time I mention Zelda

*Played in March 2023 While I had Covid, Written in May 2023

Within the first hour of playing it, I started categorizing Pandora's Tower as a Zelda-like. It's not labeled as such usually because there are a lot of elements The Legend of Zelda series exemplifies which Pandora’s Tower lacks. I had no clue what sub genre this would fall under before playing it. I assumed it was a Hack nSlash game with RPG elements and a few puzzles involving your chain. I usually do a bit more research before buying a game for 90 bucks at a retro game store, but it didn’t really matter what genre it was. Pandora’s Tower has a historical significance that made me want to own a physical copy. It was one of the 3 Operation Rainfall games, right along side The Last Story and Xenoblade Chronicles. To summarize, Operation Rainfall was a fan movement to get 3 Nintendo JRPGs released in the United States, which surprisingly succeeded. As someone who wanted to buy all three but could only purchase Xenoblade, getting my hands on the other two was always a dormant dream of mine.

I booted it up with the full intention of playing a God of War type game with a leveling system, but having finished it, the only parallel I can draw is that the main character uses a chain weapon. The structure, design, and even story motifs are remarkably analogous to Zelda. But does it really fit the billing for the genre? I could just say it doesn't matter and judge it by its own merits, but I think there’s something of worth to consider here. It might be a bit reductive, but I find it genuinely interesting to frame my thoughts on the game in this way. It's better than just ignoring it as I sincerely thought about the Zelda franchise frequently while playing Pandora’s Tower. Not only because it borrows concepts from the series, but because it nails them to a startling degree.

The first thing about Pandora's Tower that made me jump to the Zelda analogs was the dungeon design. Yea I know, Shigeru Miyamoto didn't invent dungeons and simply having dungeons shouldn't raise alarms. But they were put together in a distinctly Zelda way. It's not like you are just going from room to room looking for keys and solving puzzles as you go. These are the type of dungeons that are puzzles in and of themselves. They require an intimate understanding of their architecture and unique mechanics. Not all Zelda Dungeons are designed this way, but all dungeons designed like this remind me of Zelda. They are a common occurrence in this franchise and are likely my favorite part of it.

People seem to really latch on to the idea that Zelda is all about open world exploration at its core, and that isn't a baseless conclusion. The first game was more about finding the dungeons than anything else. The dungeons themselves were essentially gauntlets full of terrible enemies and puzzles where you push a single block. They were a narrative cornerstone for sure, but not something to look forward to gameplay wise. That started to slightly shift down the line with every following game until we got to Ocarina of Time. Ocarina was a big title for the Nintendo 64, but it can feel cramped when compared to its 2D brethren. There wasn't this big map full of secrets anymore. They were there, but it was more condensed. There was a noticeable dearth of open areas to run through. That vibe of being an adventurer combing each corner of a kingdom was lost. But to replace it was the change in dungeon design philosophy.

Dungeons are allowed to be compact. So while the overworld design suffered in the jump to 3D, the dungeon design was allowed to truly shine. Dungeons couldn't be gauntlets anymore, there wasn't enough space for that. They had to use the space they had more effectively and become more complex. Dungeons need to be a place players spend time in so they feel like milestones within the game. And Ocarina succeeded in this by making dungeons something you had to solve rather than something you had to get through. Each room existed in context with another and you had to use your mastery over your abilities to corral them so they can cooperate.

When people think of a hero, they are probably imagining a brave soul venturing into the vast unknown. I tend to think of an individual who overcomes a precarious situation using nothing but wit and the minimal tools at their disposal. That's the adventuring fantasy for me. The finding the dungeon part is great (it's actually just as integral), but it's always been an appetizer for my insatiable cravings. So I'm happy to say that after playing Pandora’s Tower, I'm stuffed up to my head. Pandora's Tower gets right to the point. No fluff included, likely because they didn't have the development time to add any. This game has 12 dungeons and you will spend 90% of the game in them. There is no appetizer, there's hardly any side dishes. It just a fucking steak. That's all you get, because that's all you need. All the bells and whistles that give Zelda Dungeons that extra oomph aren't here. No mini bosses, no big keys, and no mid dungeon item. And I'm not even upset about that last one because you are given the best Zelda item from the jump.

We can all agree that the Hookshot is the best Zelda item right? Ever since Link to the Past introduced it, every game without it feels incomplete. Movement is always something that's been limited in Zelda games. You don't move particularly fast and you normally can't jump on command. This is what makes the mobility items so enticing by juxtaposition. That somewhat sluggish movement is no longer a problem once you get the Pegasus Boots and sacrifice your control for speed. Gravity isn't anchoring you once you get the Roc’s Feather. And the Hookshot takes those ledges and balconies on the other side of the labyrinth that take 5 minutes to navigate to and makes them traversable in seconds. Despite the hookshot only being allowed to latch on to certain points, it gives you more freedom than you thought was possible at the beginning of the game. And what makes it better than every other mobility item is that it's not just a mobility item. The Hookshot is a shorter ranged, lower damaging, Bow and Arrow that is worth using because it has infinite ammo. The Hookshot brings items towards you. The Hookshot exposes enemy weak points. The Hookshot activates switches from a distance. The only thing that can possibly compete with the versatility of it is possibly the Grappling Hook, which basically got merged into the Clawshot later. The Clawshot is the actual best Zelda item, but I usually just lump it together with the hookshot. It's just a hookshot that allows you to hang and latch on to walls like Spider-Man. Twilight Princess gave you a lot of toys to play with, but nothing got me more excited then when you find the 7th Dungeon item and it’s just a 2nd Clawshot. The Hookshot evolves to such a degree between games that you could probably design a whole Zelda game around it. And Pandora's Tower is that game.

The Oraclos Chain is the Hookshot's final form. It's does the work of an entire suite of explorer items all by itself. And it never feels like they're shoving mechanics where they don't belong. Everything you can do with it is intuitive. You can grapple from wall to wall. You can swing from ledge to ledge. You can connect objects together. You can use its leverage to launch heavy objects to a specified point. Activating switches, opening doors, operating mechanisms. If you imagined "what if I could do this with a grappling hook or hook shot?" you likely can do that thing. And you can do all of it from the beginning. There are no upgrades to your chain other than it getting stronger as a weapon. Everything listed above you can do immediately, you just don't know you can. The first 5 dungeons are about teaching you the mechanics of the chain and each time you learn a new ability, it feels like you unlocked something. And then the next set of dungeons act as checks to make sure you have mastered applying said mechanics in tandem. Pandora's Tower nails that feeling of being an adventurer with a limited tool set simply by having a single item. In terms of the use of the Oraclos Chain in individual puzzles, I couldn't ask for more.

And then there's the case of the dungeon layouts. Sure the individuals uses of the chain in puzzles are good, but it's much more interesting to me if the dungeon itself is a puzzle as well. Luckily 66% of the towers you travel through have some central mechanism you need to understand in order to progress. These never get as genius as the ones in Skyward Sword or Majora’s Mask, but the implementation of this kind of design makes them far more intriguing than most dungeons that don't attempt this. They really went for it with these layouts. It might be that there's no map, therefore I had to think about the architecture a bit more than usual, but the game never failed to make me feel brilliant each time I figured out what I needed to do in that room I was in 10 minutes ago. Pandora's Tower is my new standard for 3D dungeon design. Not because it's the best, but because it's the most consistently gratifying.

The parallels don't end with the dungeons though. The general set up is vaguely Zeldaesque in that a pretty blonde swordsman who doesn't talk a bunch (Aeron) risk life and limb to save a maiden (Elena). But even beyond the surface level, the structure of the game feels like an amalgamation of different Zeldas. The way Pandora’s Tower splits up its content is identical to a Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time, where the first set of dungeons has to be done in order and encompasses the 1st act, the second set opens up the order in which you can complete them now that you've finished the tutorial and covers the 2nd act, and the 3rd act is 1 super dungeon that test all your skills. But also it takes a bit from Majora’s Mask in that you are constantly on a timer and you are pushed to get as much done as possible.

The Maiden in this game is your girlfriend. It’s never said in explicit text, but that’s 100% what she is to you. Instead of being kidnapped, she turns into a gross Bloodborne enemy. This can only be reversed completely by beating the game and temporarily by leaving the dungeons and feeding her beast flesh. If you take too long, she turns into a monster forever and is no longer wife material, resulting in a game over. This can be somewhat annoying, just like how it can be in Majora’s Mask. But it gives urgency to the story and makes for an immersive experience. The same way you try to maximize each day in Termina so that the citizens of Clock Town don't have to die repeatedly, you get the most out of every dungeon run so that your girlfriend can stop being a slimy monster in constant writhing pain as soon as possible.

One aspect I can say doesn't remind me of Zelda are the functions of the game that I would consider Dating Sim like. It's not like you have more than one option for dating, and she's gonna like you no matter what. But getting her to like you more is very important. So important that the affinity gauge for it is on screen at all times. This social link accounts for what ending you get, what unique items you receive, and most importantly, what dialogue options are available. I gotta come clean and admit that this is a frighteningly effective mechanic of the game. I became genuinely endeared with Elena. I would try to make my dungeon runs quick, not out of fear of a game over, but because I wanted to protect that smile at all cost and I didn't want her to be a monster for a single second. She's not a particularly deep character, but she's just nice and has a British voice actress. So I totally get why Aeron would fight a galére of vicious beast to secure her happiness. I say that as if fighting monsters in this game is some kind of crucible, but it's actually quite fun.

Fighting enemies in Pandora’s Tower gets you the engaging JRPG action you’d expect from 7th gen gaming. There is a single attack for your weapon. It seems boring, but you get some mileage out of it. You unleash a stronger version of your standard attack if you charge it, and if you attack at the correct time in the middle of your charge attack you get to use a sick combo string. As you upgrade your weapons, you get more levels of charge and a new combo to use when you cancel out of it. It's a lot of attacks for just one button and it’s exciting to pull off this over the top combo on enemies that would have gone down for much less. This is the least interesting part of combat though. It's all about the chain baby. Anything you can imagine doing with a chain while using it as a weapon you can do in this game. Grabbing enemies and throwing them into walls. Wrapping it around monsters to restraint them while you hack away at their defenseless bodies. Pulling out a fool's heart. The ceiling for wacky stunts you can pull off with this chain is higher than any tower in this game. The enemy attack patterns aren't complex or anything. Combat is for the most part, a cool playground for you to smack beast around in as many ways as possible. Bosses on the other hand have more than enough depth.

The boss fights in Pandora's Tower are the hypest fishing mini games ever conceived. I'm sorry Big the Cat, you've been dethroned. Using a chain to progressively yoink out a beast's heart is metal as hell. It takes the basic "hit the boss in its weak point" concept to its final destination. The boss knows it has a weak point, it knows you know it has a weak point, and it knows it’s gonna take a while for you to actually damage it. It is ready for your bullshit and will not make it easy for you. Every fight is a puzzle that requires the intellect to figure out the optimal moment to attack its heart and skill to get as much out of that exchange as possible. The most satisfying moments of the game are setting up the opportunity to strike, making the perfect shot into its heart, holding on for dear life, and yanking that sucker out with your most powerful pull. And none of the satisfaction is possible without motion controls.

I may not have made it clear before, but this is a Wii game. It is a Wii ass Wii game. A bonafide point and flick adventure. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I tried playing this with a classic controller pro. It works, but it's not optimal. You can't point as instantly to aim your chain as you can with the IR sensor. And swinging the Nunchuck to lariat enemies around, and flicking the Wiimote to pull your chain back just feels...correct. Most motion controls aren't as diagetic. Look at other Zeldas on the Wii. Shaking the Wiimote to attack in Twilight Princess doesn't feel like your swinging a sword anymore than pressing a button. In Skyward Sword, swinging your Wiimote does feel like swinging a sword, but it doesn't feel like your controlling a bird's wings...which you have to do in that game. This is the one area I’d say Pandora completely dunks on the Zelda franchise in. Every motion control makes sense and adds to the game. Most 3D adventure games focus a lot on locking on to an enemy to focus on them. I wouldn't say I dislike lock on, but I understand its draw backs. It ends up being a crutch for interacting with your 3D environment and leads to frustration when you target the wrong enemy. Pandora's Tower has a fixed camera so you are always at an angle that favors the player context. If you need precision, that’s where the pointer comes in. And because you don't have to focus on locking on to enemies before attacking, it feels far more natural going from fight to fight.

Unfortunately I have run out of evidence as to why this is a Zelda game. I don't want to admit it, but it's missing something vital. While I prefer the focus on dungeons, Zelda IS more than that. Exploring is an imperative organ of the series. Even though the 3D games were never as good at exploration as the 2D ones, they still tried. Pandora's Tower doesn't. It knows it's limits and stays within it's bounds. And I think that's why I can't call it a Zelda like without some reservation. It lacks....courage.

There are 3 tenants I would attach to the Zelda franchise that I'd say each major entry has followed. Exploration, combat, and puzzles. Or if we are to define it in an even dorkier way: Courage, Power and Wisdom. The Courage of the player is tested as they are shoved into the great and far unknown to brave areas they may not be prepared for. The power of the player is tested as they use their might to slice moblins and octorocks into minced pixels. The Wisdom of the Player is tested as they solve the mysteries of the world and navigate the complex inner workings of the dungeons. And these elements don't just exist in three separate vacuums. They all interplay with each other. You need wisdom to figure out the optimal way to take down an enemy. You need power to fight off the creatures you find on your journey. You need courage to explore the uncharted areas of the dungeons you raid. When all 3 of these pillars are used properly and in correct proportion, the Triforce, or in this case a complete Zelda adventure, is pieced together.

Pandora's Tower has Wisdom. It's got Power no doubt. But it's severely lacking in the courage category. Sure you explore the dungeons, but that's a very limited and structured space. It doesn't feel like an adventure where anything can happen, just a list of bullet points. And those bullet points are great, but now that I've played it, those bullet points don't really stand out. I didn't go out into the world and earn the right to challenge these dungeons. They just sort of appeared on a menu. Pandora's Tower knows its bounds. So it doesn't attempt to have anything between these benchmarks. But that leaves it feeling like it lacks ambition. Not to say it wasn't the correct call, but the adventure does feel a bit undercooked. And honestly, that's fine with me. 3D Zelda games are hard to make. There's a reason the amount of 2D Zelda like games that come out dwarf the amount of 3D ones.

Despite not fulfilling the criteria I myself have lined out, I'm still gonna claim this as a Zelda like. Because it's just unrealistic of a genre to be that strict. The standard for what counts as a 3D Zelda is lower for 2D ones in my mind. So if Pandora lacks 1 pillar but nails the other 2, I won't sweat it. It's better than it being middling in all 3 like Okami is, a game routinely touted as "The actual best Zelda game" by people who have no clue what they are talking about. And while I wouldn't agree with the same being said about Pandora's Tower, I'd be less perplexed. Pandora’s Tower is a Zelda like and a pretty damn good one too.

#pandora's tower

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years ago

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football hysteria x damon albarn

I LOVED THIS SM LMAO !!!!!!!! football obsessed damon is so cute

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 2.281

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

"Who you supporting?" Graham asked me, handing me a beer as he sat himself beside me on the couch next to me in the middle, Damon sat on the opposing side. Damon had dragged me over to Graham's house to watch the Man City and Chelsea game tonight, and knowing just how competitive Damon came to football, I knew it was better that I simply went along with things rather than moan about how much I really didn't want to spend two hours watching two teams pass around a ball for entertainment.

"Erm, Man City." I replied, quickly flicking the can open to taste the bittersweet barley flavouring of the heineken beer as it embellished the walls of my mouth.

"You don't support Chelsea?" Damon questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

A small chuckle left my mouth. “Of course I don't, they're shit." I sneered, aware of the havoc that my statement was going to cause. Immediately, Damon's mouth fell agape; stunned by my malevolence, as well as partial shock from the new-found information surrounding my opinions on football.

Graham's laughter rang through the room and my ears as my eyes continued to burn into Damon's piercing gaze, him just as amused as I was. Nobody was as big a football fan as Damon had become. "They're anything but shit," he continued, eyebrows now raised as he scoffed. "You're telling me that you support Man City? Gallagher-brother-Man-City?"

"Okay I'm going to sit between you both,'' Graham announced, swiftly standing up, shoving my body to the side he had just accompanied, placing his body between me and Damon, a blockade to prevent either of us going at each other's throats. "Just so we can all be alive by the end of it."

“Well I wouldn't have fucking invited her over if I knew she supported those manic twats, Graham."

"Piss right off Damon, we're in Graham's flat, not yours." I bit back, completely unphased by his childlike behaviour. It had been made quite apparent to the media that Chelsea were indeed the band dominated by the south, as well as Blur, and Man City were celebrated in the north by Oasis. However, it was quite comical noticing the immediate flush of anger that filled Damon's face after my sly comment. Leaning back into the loveseat, my back adorned the soft feel of the cushion behind me. "Graham, who do you support?" I asked, curiosity laced in my words as the football pitch came into view on the television screen - initiating the beginning of the match.

My eyes were focused on Graham as I watched him toss his glasses onto the coffee table in front of us, which had been cascading with countless bags of crisps and other treats to keep us stuffed as the ninety-minute match played through. "In all honesty, I'm not that phased with football," he began, reaching over to open a bag of crisps. "It's Damon here who's completely obsessed with it."

As the match began, tensions were already built to a high degree between the three of us. Small but meaningless comments had been thrown into the atmosphere of the apartment, merely portraying our silliness and how neither of us had seemingly outgrown the competitive side of our personalities, something that would be more apparent during teenage years. Unfortunately however, very early into the game, Damon's supporting team had decided to skillfully snatch the ball from one of the players, eventually managing to get it into the goal - portraying the first goal scored subsequent to the game's start.

Damon instantaneously rose at the goal, shouting loud enough for the neighbours to hear every single word that rumbled out of his throat. "Told you we were bett-" he said, smugness intertwined between his words so effortlessly, though shamefully his words had been cut off by the sound of the cushion, once placed behind me, now hitting his face. I couldn't help but allow a tiny smirk to illustrate itself on my facial features as I admired his face dripping in absolute bewilderment towards my actions. “What the fuck was that for?” he scoffed, falling back into his side of the sofa, as I sustained the grin on my face, watching him. The atmosphere that was once overflowing with hostility was now completely serenaded with Damon's egocentric giggles, forcing my body to hunch into a sulk at how quickly my team had been warranting for a loss so early into the match.

Mid-way through the game, Graham had decided to go to the corner shop by his apartment to get more beers for us to share, due to us having run out to share between the three of us. I dreaded being alone in the room with the game ongoing with Damon present, full-well knowing that his upbeat jolliness would attempt to torment me upon the fact that he was winning, which, to my demise, was exactly what had occured. The air fell still in the room once the sound of the door slamming etched through the flat walls, my gaze focused entirely on the match following on the screen, attempting to focus my mind on anything but the room that I was currently occupied in - though my peripheral noticed Damon's head almost instantly turned to look in my direction once it was made evident that Graham wasn’t inside the flat anymore. As if reading my mind, he decided to shift his body weight, which was once adorned to the other armrest of the burgundy couch, right next to me, where he attempted to wrap his arm around my shoulders, warming me into an embrace. In spite of this, I could feel his intense stare on my features. Using all my strength to avoid connecting eyes with him, I wasn’t going to admit defeat so easily, my stubbornness proving a point.

Once Damon realised, he carried on watching the game, however his body had continued it's embrace with mine. At one point, I was thinking that the match was going to be a lost cause from the performance shown by Chelsea, However, things began to turn around, and Man City managed to score a goal, to Damon's consternation. The sudden win resulted in me lunging from my seat, swiftly detaching myself from Damon, my whole body cheering towards the goal as it replayed on the screen. What was amusing was that, after I had finished my applause, I noticed that Damon had moved back into his seat by the side of the couch, distancing himself from me. "Aw, you don't want to sit with me anymore?" I sarcastically questioned, not waiting for an answer as a small smile crept on my lips. It was very amusing, pissing Damon off. I must say, watching his ego deflate into nothing but a simple sulk at the corner of a room was really the sight.

"What did I miss?" The sound of graham's voice sounded through the room, paired with the clank of multiple beer bottles as he reached into the plastic carrier bag to place them on the table. Each and every one had an individual water-streak pattern, indicating that they had just been chilled - when they taste best.

"Man City scored!" I exclaimed, reaching out for one of the glass bottles as I got the bottle opener to unfasten it from its metal clasp, promptly taking a swig from the beverage. The intent was, of course, to provide Graham with the extra knowledge upon the events that occurred during the match whilst he was absent, however knowing myself, I had also wanted to remind Damon of said occurrences, to surge him to the edge of his frustration. Exclaiming it at the top of my lungs held just enough power to do just that.

A chuckle immediately left Graham's mouth from my enthusiasm. "Need me to sit between you both again?" He jokingly asked, yet an element of seriousness was laced between his words.

“Depends if Damon's gonna stop sulking or not.” I replied, focusing my view on the game playing on the screen.

"You're the one who was fucking throwing the cushions!" Damon shouted, reaching over to grab himself a beer.

"Because you were pissing me off!" I answered, shifting my gaze onto Damon, who was, to my surprise, staring directly at me. There was a certain look of annoyance glazed on his features, though the agitation seemed to subside as soon as we locked stares, as if he was longing for my eyes to bear their sight toward him, as if it was an examination, an analysation to confirm whether we were still on good terms or not; of course we were, while conflicting preferences drew evident tears between us during that moment in particular. After a few seconds had passed, Damon leaned back into the cushion, carrying on watching the game unfold, satisfied with his response from my eyes. Switching my gaze over to Graham, I took notice of a look of question illustrated on his features, to which I decided to mime that it was alright, in order to move myself next to Damon once again. It would've been a lie, and a mere understatement, to say that I hadn't missed his arms around me.

Bunching up next to him, enough space was made to allow graham to sit himself down next to me, though that thought was the last passing my mind; my body was shivering from nervousness, the close proximity between us, regardless of our romantic acquaintance, never failed to bloom butterflies at the pit of my stomach. Due to my body's weight pressing down onto the cushion next to him, it was obvious that he was aware that I moved to sit next to him - but at a cause of his stubbornness, him averting all his attention onto me, admiring me as if I was the only living being in the apartment, a home that hadn't even belonged to me, would never happen - it would take much more to result in his feign of irritation to melt away. Placing my arm around his shoulder, I granted my hand to reach up to his beautiful head of hair, my fingers caressing his strands gently as I brushed any parts that were sticking out on the sides of his head. His arms were wrapped around one another, like a child encompassed in an angry stupor at their parent due to them not allowing them a packet of sweets from the grocery store, though I was playing at his heartstrings, aware of just how much he adored me playing with his dirty blonde locks.

For a short sum of time, we both sat there, my hands never halting their actions. The next few minutes of the game played out of continuous dribbling and passing to other teammates, oftentimes resulting in the other team taking hold of the ball and running around with it for a while until their attempt to score. Randomly, Damon's arm had released itself from its shared embrace with the other, engulfing my body with his as he encased his left arm around my shoulders. We were in a sense of comfort with one another, though from Damon's avoidance of my stare it was made obvious that he was still in the least carrying a small element of annoyance, nevertheless, as I allowed my eyes to linger onto his delicate, paradisiacal features, holding back a grin was seen much easier said than done, a small curvature sneaking itself on his lips.

"Look who's won." Graham mumbled, his voice detaching me out of my trance that I was enamoured in.

A laugh rang itself out of my throat as I admired the lengthy team cheering as they enveloped one another in a massive embrace. "Told you they were better!" I grinned as I diverted my gaze onto Damon, the same look of frustration painted on his demeanour, still avoiding his eyes on me. "You want a kiss?" I asked, tilting my head in order to make sure I was the main thing in his sight, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep up his facade so easily. "Kiss kiss?"

I continued until his eyes met mine. It was as if, for a short segment of time we were frozen in place, momentary seconds passing of us merely marvelling at the view illustrated forth one another, my hands snaking their way around his neck as I leaned in slightly, noticing his blue orbs fall onto my lips, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his mind wandered through fields of appraisal. It was then where I couldn’t hold resistance for any longer, and I doubted that Damon could, bringing my head forward as I let my lips latch onto his, allowing time to flow as they lingered still before he kissed me back with gentle force, enough to notify me of his desire that encompassed him just as much as me. The kiss held innocence, portrayed adoration in its true beauty, nevertheless, also embodying eagerness, a yearning of lust.

"I'm going to be honest," I mumbled, removing my lips away from his, panting as I attempted to recollect my breath. "I don't actually support Man City."

"Of course you fucking don't." Damon laughed, our lips connecting once again as he perched his head forward, intoxicating me with the very thing that I desired most in that significant moment.

"If you're gonna shag, please go home." Graham groaned, causing our bodies to jolt at the sudden awareness that we weren’t alone together. Pulling away instantly, a wave of embarrassment covered my cheeks as we looked at one another, infatuation the single thing flowing out of our eyes.

“Sorry Graham.”

#i loved this so much please #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #90s #blur band #britpop #graham coxon #imagines #band imagines

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cherrycheridarling · 4 years ago

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"eyes up here, holland" | t.h.

tom holland x osterfield!reader

warnings: swearing and suggestiveness

summary: you're harrison's little sister and to say your relationship with tom was complicated would be a major understatement. when you stumble upon him, your wit and sarcasm comes out to play.

wc: 1.1k

"I'm heading to the store. Do you need anything?" your brother popped his head into your room.

You looked up from your phone screen, "Pineapples?"

"There's pineapples in the fridge. I'll be back in a bit. Be nice to Tom." he pointed a warning finger at you making you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," you waved him off, "Don't hurt the prick's ginormous ego. Leave, please."

After Harrison had left the house, you spent a few minutes debating. Was leaving the comfort of your room and risking the possibility of seeing Tom really worth a few pieces of pineapple?

Yes, yes it was.

Making your way into the kitchen, you opened the fridge only to find it pineapple free.

What the fuck, Harrison?

You searched the whole space for any sign of the yellow fruit, but came up empty. Letting out a frustrated groan, you settled on the tub of strawberries. The figure standing in the doorway caused you to let out a short yelp until you made out the features of your brother's best mate.

You placed the fruit on the counter, "Why are you shirtless?" you noticed his bare torso was on full display.

He shrugged and sat on a stool at the kitchen island, "Because it's hot." he eyed your tank top and plaid pyjama shorts, "Feel free to join me." he smirked.

It was a September Sunday in London. It was anything but hot.

You chuckled and turned around to grab your snack, "I think I'm okay."

As you began to walk out of the kitchen, his voice pulled you back, "You're single."

You stopped with your back to him, "Thanks for the reminder. Nearly forgot."

"Why is that?"

His words caused you to turn over your shoulder, "Why is what?"

"Why are you single? I'm surprised you haven't professed your love for me already." his ego came out to play.

You let out a dry chuckle before walking back to face him across the kitchen island, "Well, aren't you just full of yourself?"

He shrugged, "I know the thought has crossed your mind." his confidence irked you.

You leaned over with your forearms against the cold marble, "Actually, it hasn't."

You lied. The amount of times that you've considered having feelings for Tom would be too many to count. The thoughts of him between your legs as you dug your nails into his back outweighed any others.

"Is that was this is all about?" a smirk pulled at your lips, "You have every girl in the world wrapped around your finger except me and it drives you crazy, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, "Who's full of themselves now?" his eyes drifted to your chest.

You took your hand and lifted his chin up with a single finger, "Eyes up here, Holland." you whispered.

You watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed thickly, "You should put a jumper on, love." his voice dropped significantly lower.

Your smirk only grew, "You shouldn't be looking at your best mate's sister like that, love." you withdrew your hand and pushed yourself off the counter. "Besides, it's hot, isn't it?" your eyes scanned him up and down.

Starting at his floppy, brown curls leading down to his chocolate eyes, the little pout of his lips, sidetracking to his defined jawline. The veins in his neck were prominent before your eyes diverted to his pecs. Leading you down to the smooth skin that housed the carved out abs of his until they reached his notable v-line. The rest of him was covered by grey joggers that had a noticeable outline in the one place your eyes should never wander.

"Checking me out, are you?" a cocky smirk rested on his pink lips.

You shrugged before meeting his eyes, an equally sly grin on your face, "Just returning the favour."

"You didn't answer my question."

You grabbed a strawberry, "What was your question again?" you wrapped your lips around the fruit before sinking your teeth into it.

Tom watched your every move with his undivided attention, "W-why are you single?"

You noticed a pink tint rising from his neck to his cheeks. You knew exactly what you were doing and to say you that you didn't find his reaction incredibly amusing would be a blantant lie.

To everyone else, your relationship with Tom came off as bickering and insulting one another back and forth. To you and Tom, it was a game. A test to see who would break first. Neither of you knew what the prize was or how the rules were set up, but you both enjoyed it immensely.

"Excellent question." you licked your lips and tilted your head, "Because no guy has wanted to be with me." you shrugged.

Tom scoffed, "I thought we could be truthful with one another, darling."

You bit your bottom lip and noticed how Tom's eyes immediately honed in on the action.

"Why are you single?" you threw the question back at him.

He smirked, "Because no girl has wanted to be with me." he threw your response right back at you.

"Understandable." you joked and noticed strawberry juice on your index finger.

You wrapped your lips around your finger and licked it off, holding eye contact with Tom. His breath hitched as his deep brown eyes stayed locked on your seemingly innocent action that held such a deeper suggestion. You watched him tuck his bottom lip underneath his teeth before you released your finger from your lips and returned the sly smirk to your face.

"You look a little flustered there, Holland. Everything all right?" you asked with an innocent head tilt.

Tom swallowed again, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips, "You're killing me here, Osterfield."

Your confidence spiked at the sheer amount of power you had over him, "I try my best."

Tom opened his mouth to reply, but his words got cut off by the sound of jingling keys and his best mate walking into the room. Two grocery bags in hands.

His eyes flitted back and forth from you to Tom before he spoke, "Please don't tell me you were arguing again."

You shook your head and stepped away from Tom, "Nope. Bonding time, right, Tom?" the use of his first name caught both of the boys off guard.

Tom nodded, "Yeah, just getting to know one another. No arguing between me and Y/N anymore."

Harrison eyed you both with doubt before a wide smile took over his face, "Finally! My best mate and my little sister are getting along!" he clapped his hands together like a toddler who just got gifted candy.

Tom couldn't suppress his smirk, "Mhm, we're getting along just fine."

You walked towards him and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Swimmingly." you gave him a quick wink before starting your walk back to your room.

"Hey! Did you eat all the pineapples?" Harrison called out to you.

You continued to walk while replying, "There was no pineapples to begin with, liar."

#tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x osterfield!reader

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omiscurls · 3 years ago

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Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

#kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya headcanons #tartaglia fluff #tartalgia #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe headcanons #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader

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poetrusicperry · 3 years ago

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the poets go to ikea for the first time !!!

sooo this morning i made a list of things i have to take back to college with me and i always pack my stuff in these big, blue ikea bags which got me thinking about what the poets would be like in ikea bc i genuinely cannot do anything anymore without thinking about how the poets would do it HAHA. so here we are lol– i hope you guys like this !!(:

neil: something tells me that neil would really enjoy ikea. there are so many tiny little relics and fun decorations to browse as well as models/displays that are so nicely put together. just the right kinds of things to appease neil’s hidden juvenile wants (since he never got to experience a real childhood with his parents treating him like an adult since he was like 8). for example: all of the neat little stuffed animals and children’s bedroom sets that have all sorts of fun colors, etc. neil would appreciate the whole aesthetic of the store as well, liking how well-organized and modern it is inside. would definitely hide behind pieces of furniture in the displays to scare todd. also he is in charge of pushing the cart (that charlie is proudly sitting in bc he doesn’t want to “walk around everywhere”).

todd: like neil, todd appreciates the feel of the place bc he’s always had a bit of an interest in interior design, but is a little bit overwhelmed with just how big it is both outside and inside. desperately wants a djungelskog bear (which neil buys for him, bc of all the things neil struggles with, saying “no” to todd is certainly the biggest one). genuinely freaks out every single time neil scares him, even if he should see it coming after the second or third time. trails behind the group, (as he seemingly always does), taking special note of certain things he’d like to have in his own house one day (’:

knox: upon being invited, he seemed hesitant bc it’s just a furniture store, big whoop (”will there be girls there at least?”), but once they got there he was incredibly thrilled that there was a cafeteria and insisted that they go there both before shopping and after shopping (”look at how big the store is, don’t you think we’ll be hungry again by the time we’re done?”). definitely would rather be doing something else, but is just happy to be spending time around his pals (:

charlie: as previously stated, king of the cart. refuses to get out and walk because it’s “a big store and he’s tired.” neil doesn't mind pushing him, though. fully embraces the semi-chaotic feel of ikea during the weekend (so many people, which is not good for todd, but charlie full-on thrives). he would also insist on actually buying a few pieces of new furniture for his and cameron’s room (completely oblivious to the fact that he will actually need to assemble the pieces himself until they get down to the warehouse), even though it would most definitely be confiscated by mr. hager (”they’ll only confiscate it if they find it,” charlie says, to which cameron replies, “i’m pretty sure a full size vanity and bureau would be pretty easy to scope out, dumbass.” then they both flip each other off). he is definitely the reason knox decided to come after charlie begged him for at least ten minutes (”c’mon, knoxious, it’ll be fun! even if there aren’t girls there, you’ll still have me to look at (;”). offers to buy neil a couple of the stuffed animals he’s been eyeing bc he just wants to see his best friend happy. has to go back up and around the store to take note of numbers of the furniture he actually wants bc he didn’t understand how it worked (”all that time in the cart, wasted” and ”they should really have like an instruction manual before entering the store??”). and enlists meek’s help trying to find the right boxes of parts because “he’s smart like that”. still stays squished in the cart even when he puts all the boxes in it

meeks: just along for the ride, honestly. he just likes spending time with his buddies, but isn’t hesitant about going out and doing things like knox (“i’ll try anything once!”). gets into a pillow fight with pitts in one of the displays, garnering the attention of an ikea employee who sternly asks them to “act their age” and to “fix all the things they made fall on the ground”. the most adventurous eater at the cafeteria; tries the swedish meatballs and really likes them (”we have to come back here just to eat these again, guys”). rates each display on a scale of 1-10 and gives reasons for why he likes things and why he doesn’t (mostly in a joking way).

pitts: bumps his head on some of the hanging arrow signs that direct you into the next section of the store, sighs after every time. buys matching stuffed animals with meeks (’: is the designated driver, and never asks for gas money from his friends bc like knox and meeks, he just likes hanging out (but they give him gas money anyway !!). asks neil for a turn pushing the cart, which neil agrees to. when in control of the cart, bumps it into things, much to charlie’s displeasure (”wouldn’t peg you as a horrible cart driver since you’re the only one with your license, but alas, i was wrong”). feels v bad for getting in trouble w meeks about the pillow fighting and makes sure to fix any messed up things in any of the displays following the incident. also unsure of how much space is in the car for charlie’s boxes, leading him to argue against the purchase of any items.

cameron: also didn’t get the allure of a furniture store, but tagged along because he wanted to get off campus (and really does care about making time and hanging out with his friends, though he’d never admit that). pickiest when it came to the food court/cafeteria (”i just don’t want to try it, why do i need a reason ??”). actually considered buying a new desk organizer, but refused when charlie said it would look great on their new vanity (”charlie, they’ll confiscate that, too. how many times do i have to explain it ??”). unlike meeks, seriously rates each display on a scale of 1-10 talking about how some of the colors just don’t go, and it hurts his eyes to look at it. lowkey got lost for a bit and freaked out bc he couldn’t find anyone, but caught up with todd finally when they were exiting the kitchenette section. this caused him to ask what todd was doing all the way back behind the group, leading to a small, but nice conversation they had (”just making some notes about things i like for later on” todd had said. “that’s really cool, todd,” cameron smiled back at him, unknowing that todd was most certainly picking out things that not only he would like, but neil, too). finally caved and helped charlie build the new furniture when they got back because as much as he couldn't stand charlie sometimes, it made for an incredibly interesting bonding session.

anyway, that’s all. i feel like the poets out in public and not on campus just harness a complete chaos anywhere they go HAHA. idk if this sucked or not, but it was super fun to write hehe. happy sunday i don’t want to go to work tomorrow, but such is the life of someone who has rent and bills to pay in the coming months, sigh

#dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #dps headcanons #ikea is actually sick #but you really can get lost HAHA #dps #dps boys #anderperry #neil and todd

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ncitygirls · 3 years ago

Text

mine (yours pt 2) - jaemin x f reader

fluff, angst?, suggestive, f2l, yours pt 1

a stifling dread has been following you all week long. it’s hard to describe. it feels a lot like drowning: a hot thick uncertainty flooding your lungs, tightening your chest. it’s hard because not once have you ever dreaded seeing jaemin, your- well, that’s the thing. what is jaemin?

he’s your friend, that much you know. from as early as you can remember, jaemin’s light has painted every one of your best memories. he has long been one third of your perfect trio. his calmer, more nurturing demeanour a perfect match to your tough exterior and mark’s more naive disposition. his kind eyes and warm smile stain every dream you’ve had, brightened every dark fear and warmed every cold word. jaemin’s presence alone has remedied every single ache and pain. jaemin is your friend.

but he is also your best friend. so you doubt what you’re feeling is dread but rather that same uncertainty, a fear of the unknown. mark keeps assuring you that this feeling is normal, says it’s part and parcel with trying to navigate this new terrain you’re both entering. that anyone would feel what you’re feeling, that it isn’t unique to you. yet you asked what jaemin had felt, he had said nothing. he shut his smiling lips with a pop. one full of shame and insurmountable pity. because jaemin was nothing if not sure. he was nothing if not certain. jaemin know what he was. which brings you to what you’re not yet ready to call jaemin, what mark has already taken to calling jaemin, and what jaemin has taken to calling himself-

“hey,” your boyfriend sings from his spot where he stands tall at your front door step, his hands clasped behind his back. the pose doesn’t last long, his arm extending forward to reveal a slim bouquet, lilacs dotted between pink camellias. he slips them into your hand as you gaze up at him, your eyes squinting suspiciously. “what?”

“nothing.” you lower your head, in part to inhale their samey scent, but in larger part to hide the smile he already knows you’re wearing. you step aside as he steps forward, making way for him to enter, but he doesn’t. “changed your mind? you not coming in?” you laugh, waving your free hand into your hallway, but he doesn’t budge, a soft smirk stealing his lips. “what?”

“nothing,” he sings, grinning as he mocks you. you glare playfully as he raises his hand, his fingers gently pinching your chin before he leans in. he closes his lips around yours ever so slightly, pressing ever so softly. he huffs as you kiss back, your fingers loosening around the small arrangement. when he pulls away, you whine before shying away from his glowing face. “can i come in?”

“i just said to-”

“i just said to,” jaemin, who has pushed past you, ducks out the way of your flying fist, as he mocks you once again. you shut the door with your hip before following him to the living room. he’s already made himself at home in the small space, his sneakers slipped off by the hallway rug, his jacket hanging off the back of your desk chair. you move to pass him on the couch, only to fall backwards, your back meeting his chest as he tugs you into his lap. “where you running off to?” he asks, holding you firmly in place. “i missed you.”

“to the kitchen,” gulping quickly, you pray the small swallow would somehow soothe your beating heart. you let your head fall to his shoulder, leaning further into him as his fingers glide along your sides. “and how can you miss me, we hung out yesterday,” you sigh, relaxing into the press of his lips to your temple.

“mhm,” he’s removing your apron, eliminating any and all things that might aid in your departure. “i know that, i was there,” you feel his smirk on your skin, paired with a squeeze to your hips. “i could have seen you an hour ago and still miss you now.”

“simp.” the insult falls easily from your lips, though you curse yourself a bit for it. for with it comes the long, drawn out laughter you think has you falling further and further in love with na jaemin. your best friend. your boyfriend.

it all started at mark’s wedding. or so you had thought. for you it had been watching jaemin charm the older members of your family, or entice the younger ones, even aggravate a few in between. there was something about that night that made you see jaemin as more than what he was. whether it be your friend, ready to spin you every which way on the dance floor just to keep you company. or your best friend, ready to do the same, just to keep you from bludgeoning your family to death. or maybe more, ready to do the same, just to make you happy. jaemin was prepared to do any and everything it took to make you feel even an ounce of how you did him. to burn your skin by touch alone, arouse your senses, bring you to the brink of all feeling and emotion, make you fall. for you, this all started then. for jaemin? the start had been gradual, yet all at once.

it was a slow ascent of feelings that never once plateaued. feelings that only grew and grew, that just kept intensifying beyond what one would ever think possible. how can anybody love someone this much? to the point days turned to weeks in their absence, sweetest dreams incomparable to moments spent in their company, their heart swelling till it bulged out the gaps between their ribs. how can jaemin love you so much words quickly lost value, to the point even actions aren’t enough? jaemin can spend hours pouring every emotion he could verbalise into you, before pounding the very same emotions into you. with soft spoken gasps, with languid rolls of his hips. jaemin utilised everything he could to show you he loved you. and yet still, nothing was enough to show you he was yours.

he sees your fears in how you quickly run from his safe embrace, schooling yourself as quickly as you’d let yourself slip. his fingers had finally laid waste to your apron, his nails dragging slowly over your andomen. he hugged as you gasped, your hips pressing into his lap, his lips puckering over the the soft skin of your neck, sucking ever so slightly. “jaem,” you whine, fingers gripping tighter on his thighs, nails curving into his skin through the rips. he just grunts in your ear, one hand grinding you further into his crotch, the other snaking up your blouse to your erect nipple. something about it snaps you back to reality. his hands on you, milking pleasure from you as easily as he’d done at the wedding. “the food.” you rush, pushing yourself off his lap and heading straight for your kitchenette.

jaemin just watches you go, panting as you disappear behind the adjacent pillar, leaving him all flustered. if he’d been a betting man, he’d have just made a fortune. jaemin foresaw your departure before he’d ever pulled you in, his heart yearning to hold you firm between his palms. but he just has to laugh, watching you flit back and forth over the counter tops. he prides himself in knowing you so well, knowing your tells, your habits, your peeves. jaemin knows this is a lot for you, it always kind of has been. it took getting used to, all his attention, but now his sudden overt affection was proving laborious. you reject it firmly in public, but let him have his way in private. or so he thought. because since mark’s wedding, you’ve not let jaemin get further than some light petting and humping. which he can’t fault you for. you’d wanted things to go slow, and he’d give it to you. jaemin would give you anything you wanted if it means one day being yours.

but how long did you expect him to ignore the red raw love he has brewing more and more for you each waking hour? because another second without you feels like an hour, and jaemin is starving.

“here you go-” you place a bowl of plain rice before him, grinning as he squeezes your wrist in thanks. “let me get the chilli.”

“okay,” he breathes, relinquishing you with a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. it’s then jaemin sees nothing of his minor affection has changed, if anything you seem to cling to it, prefer it even. “it smells delicious.”

“thank you,” you sing, serving him two heaped spoon fulls before running for cheese and wine. “i made it special.” he points towards himself, a silent ‘for me?’ in his gaze. “mhm.” jaemin sprints through the meal without a word, his palm laid gently over the skin of your knee as he wolfed down the entire bowl. “damn, don’t choke, jaem.”

“you know i have to finish my food hot.” he laughs, waiting patiently for you to finish before he pushes your shoulder back down when you rise to clear the table. “i’ve got it,” he mumbles against the skin of your cheek, dragging his lip to the shell of your ear. “more wine?”

words escape you when he’s so close, your head bobbing as you hand your glass to him, squeezing his arm. it’s a lot to get used to. a version of jaemin you’s never imagined seeing, a level of affection you hadn’t ever prepared for. it’s overwhelming in the best ways. he has this hypnotic allure. it drenches every word he speaks, every move he makes. his every action warrants an overthought reaction. a kiss to your palm, something you once ignore, even laughed at is now stored in the depths of your heart, stowed away from times in his absence, then jaemin was busy, when his time wasn’t yours. jaemin’s seemingly sudden confession has pushes you so far toward the brink of madness, you wonder whether this has been his plan all along.

especially as you sit perched on his lap, straddled over his thick thighs. he listens carefully as you recount your day, his eyes flickering over the short hairs of your lash, probably counting, taking in the various flecks in your eyes. “and then i had to put her in timeout.”

“no,” he gasps, the perfect amount of shock in his tone. “lina? but she’s your favourite.”

“not anymore,” you grumble, eyes dropped to where your fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “she didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day.”

“really?” as in love with you as he is, as he has always been, jaemin does sometime wonder how it got so bad. because if it was anyone else, he’d be hysterical, tears pouring and he laughed off the worry they put into a classroom argument between two four year olds. but it’s not just anyone. it’s you. your classroom. your four year olds. so, instead of laughing, he let’s himself sigh, his eyes locked on the small tremor in your pouted lip. because it’s not just anyone’s problem, it’s yours. and if it’s yours, then it’s his. so he moves your hand from his shirt, wraps his hands around your closed fists and pulls them up around his neck. he hates himself for enjoying your skin on his. he can’t even cringe as your wet cheek meets his neck, your sniffles more his concern. “it’ll be okay.”

“no, it won’t,” you cry, arms winding around his neck as you breathe in his scent. “she’s a really smart girl, she won’t forget. she’ll never forgive me.”

“yes, she will,” he hums, his hands gliding up and down your back. “kids change like the weather,” he reminds, enjoying how you feel pressed to his chest. “and you’re her favourite too.”

“probably not anymore.”

“well you’re mine,” he admits. well, it’s hard to admit something everyone knows. it’s also hard to ignore the feeling it incites, his words like a warm repellant forcing your body up straight. he grins when you glare at him, your tear stained cheeks drawing his thumbs to your cheek. he only speaks as he drugs the same thumb over your still pouting lip. “what?”

“you’re enjoying this.”

“a little,” he pulls you back to his chest, rocking you side to side. “it’s hard to get you like this anymore.” he slows when you stiffen, your head craning up to meet his blank stare. he sees the question in your eyes, a soft glare he’s seen before but the meaning entirely changed. “it’s just been a while since we’ve been like this.”

“well, that’s your fault,” you breathe, only seeing your mistake as he straightens. it’s never easy hiding from jaemin, because he never makes it easy. before you can avoid his gaze, it’s piercing you. his fingers clasp behind your neck, his thumbs slid under your jaw, anchoring you with his gaze.

“what’s my fault?” he asks, an unsettling peace coating his words, a soft click sounding under his tongue. “what’s my fault, y/n?”

“this! the fact we aren’t the same anymore.”

“what changed?”

“you-” it sticks in your throat as he gazes down at you, watching the realisation his you in an oddly comedic fashion. jaemin hadn’t changed. nothing about him had changed. jaemin gave you all of him, yes, but he always had. jaemin gave you every bit of himself you just didn’t know you had. he was always yours. so what had changed? “me,” you breathe, watching him soften as your eyes gleam up at him. “i-i’ve changed. haven’t i?”

he shrugs softly, his smile even softer. “a bit.”

“a bit?” you cry, eyes wide as he grins dumbly at you. “oh my god, jaem. it’s me.”

“no it isn’t-”

“no, it is! it’s me!” he holds you tighter when you try retreat, your body repelling his affection, feeling so undeserving. “jaem it’s me, i just-i just miss you so much, all the time. and-and i don’t know why. and it’s not like you’ve gone anywhere. you’re here. but you’re not you anymore, and i’m not me. we’re this, we-we’re different now. and-and i don’t know what it means for us. i don’t get what we are.”

“we’re whatever we want to be,” he laughs when you scoff. “what’s wrong with that?”

“you make it sound so easy.”

“it could be,” he shrugs, pressing his forehead to yours as he keeps cradling your warm face in his cool hands. “tell me what you want.”

“i want you.” he swells with pride at your firmness, the words warming him before you add, “i want us. i want us to be how we always were. i want my best friend jaemin,” you watch him nod, the light leaving his eyes before you add again, “but that’s because you’re mine. i mean, you were always mine right? i guess i’m just trying to figure out what that all means.”

“it means,” he mumbles against your forehead, smoothing the skin with a kiss. “we’re exactly the same. i’m still jaemin. you’re still y/n,” he assures you, watching the crease in your brow melt away as he rubs along your jaw. “it’s just, instead of being jaemin and y/n, we’re jaemin and y/n.”

“right,” you nod, barely following, but you nod all the same. “but that’s how we always were.”

“exactly. so there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“i guess,” you agree, sighing softly as he kisses your forehead, “except now i’m yours too.”

“yeah?” he breathes, eyes shining “you’re mine?”

“mhm,” you affirm, shying away from his watery gaze. “i think that’s what’s changed. it’s kind of a lot of pressure.”

“if it helps,” he whispers, lips dragging to the skin beneath your ear. “i’m not taking anyone else for the role. ever.”

“you sure?” his lips pucker at the skin there, sucking softly when you sigh.

“i’m sure.” well, not exactly. he’s yours.

#what even is this #anybody else wanna be jaemin’s? get in line #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #jaemin angst #nct angst #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct au #nct jaemin #ncitygirls

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Thinking Outside the Box

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Mentioned/Implied Chastity Belt, Mentioned/Implied Sex Toys, Mentioned/Implied Isolation Bondage, Objectification, Choking/Breath Play, Overstimulation, Cum Play, Misuse of a Casket...At Best a Dubious Use of a Casket

Summary: Matsukawa rails you in a pretty casket. That’s it. That’s the plot.

A/N: The original request for this was a coffin, but I took some artistic liberty and changed it to a casket because a coffin just seemed SO uncomfy (I say as if I think casket sex is much comfier ROFL).

You smile as you reach over to grab the proffered bag of takeout you’d ordered, excitedly sniffing the delicious scent of a hot and freshly prepared meal wafting from the hefty paper bag before exiting the restaurant and making your way to your boyfriend’s workplace. Matsukawa has been almost radio silent the past few days and your heart warms from the fact that despite how stressed and overworked you know he is, he had still never failed to send you a good morning and a good night text every day. So when he had sent an apologetic text telling you he’d have to miss your weekly date night, you had offered to pick up dinner and bring it to him so the two of you could at least see each other and so that you could make sure he was taking care of himself in person. And you laughed at how quick he was to eagerly agree.

Ignoring the closed sign on the funeral home’s front door, you walk through the front entrance you know your boyfriend had left unlocked for you and wander through the furnished halls and rooms, noting how there’s not a single soul left in the building. Guess Matsukawa wasn’t kidding when he said the place was currently shorthanded, hence his hectic schedule. It’s eerie walking through the dark and empty corridors, passing rooms you know had housed countless corpses and grieving people and it only grows creepier as you make your way to the basement where your boyfriend currently is.

Unlike the floors above that are at least carpeted and kept aesthetically pleasing, there’s no such care for the cold and sterile basement where all the more morbid dealings happen and you nervously gulp as you walk down the poorly lit walkway, breaking into a run when you see the light peeking out from the door you know Matsukawa is working away in. And suddenly it’s really not all that scary anymore as you swing open the door and bite back a giggle from how absurd your tall boyfriend looks, scowling down at a pale lilac and silver casket like it had personally affronted him.

You’re quick to carefully place dinner on his desk before making your way towards him, sweetly pulling him down for a kiss before wrapping your arms around him and joining him in peering down at the casket, looking up at him with a questioning gaze when you see nothing out of the ordinary.

You rub soothing circles on his back as he loudly sighs, shoulder slumping and melting into your touch.

“My client doesn’t want this casket anymore since it isn’t ‘purple’ enough and I can’t return it because it’s past the grace period, so now I have to figure out what to do with this thing.”

Furrowing your brows, you pull away from him much to Matsukawa’s chagrin, running your fingers over the plush velvet lining and taking a closer look at the colors and detailing.

“Really? They don’t like it? I actually think it’s really pretty. Well, as pretty as a casket can be anyway. I didn’t even know they came in this color!”

You keep rambling on, appraising the casket, eyes so focused on the object in front of you that you don’t notice a dark and inquisitive look in your lover’s eyes as he intently studies the pretty picture you make as you bend over the lilac container, gaze roaming over your figure as arousal stirs inside of him.

How long had it been since he tasted you, touched you, ravished you?

Far too long.

Matsukawa and you have a healthy sex life. You suppose that’s a massive understatement considering the extensive “play room” he has in his apartment and the fact that you’re almost a permanent fixture inside of said dungeon. But between work and life recently, neither of you have had the time to fool around and he can feel the effects of that denial rearing inside of him as you prance around in front of him, so innocent, so clueless of the filthy thoughts racing around his mind.

You squeal, clinging tightly to Matsukawa’s shirt as you’re scooped up bridal style, unsure what’s happening, but you blankly stare in shock as you’re gently laid inside the coffin, easily letting your arms fall limply by your sides when your boyfriend brushes your grip off of him. It’s startling to suddenly be flat on your back, but you whimper as you finally come back to your senses, shuffling around a bit to find a more comfortable position, arms brushing against the firm velvety sides, reminding you exactly what position you’re in and where you’re lying. You feel trapped, vulnerable, small, defenseless as you stare up wide eyed at Matsukawa from your new position.

He’s always loomed over you, tall muscular body always overwhelming you, but like this he seems inhumanly enormous and humiliation washes over you as you feel your thighs instinctively clench, lust pooling inside of you at the familiar predatory leer he’s pinning you down with despite how wrong, how sinful it feels to be aroused in a coffin, in a funeral home, in a place of death and respect.

“You look so pretty in there. Maybe I should take this casket home with us, stuff you with a dildo and a plug, keep them inside of you with your chastity belt and keep you locked up in here when I’m not using you. Treat you like the fuck toy you really are.”

He means it half jokingly, but he can feel his cock twitch, pants instantly tightening at the way you literally whine in arousal at his words. His eyes widen briefly in surprise before relaxing and a razor sharp grin pierces his face and he almost feels giddy with sadistic glee. You always do react so adorably whenever he treats you meanly and he cruelly laughs at your lewd moan when he calls you a fucking slut as he reaches in to swiftly help you completely remove your pesky clothing.

You’re always beautiful, but there’s something breathtakingly gorgeous and forbidden about the way your bare body looks against the lilac velvet backdrop, how the coffin walls frame and trap your body, displaying you like a mindless doll. His body moves on auto pilot, hasty and sloppy as he practically dives headfirst to join you in the small space, groaning as you wantonly rub and grind against his body as soon as he’s in close proximity, hands scrambling to shove down his pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out.

He smirks at the way your hips arch, desperately shaking against his now freed length. And despite how tempting it is to just thrust into you, he takes his time to torment you, hovering over you just far enough that you can’t easily make contact with him, slapping your dripping pussy with his cock, laughing at how you wantonly hump the air in search for more. You really are an insatiable thing, aren’t you?

You gasp as a large calloused hand wraps around your neck, tightening more and more until your body begins to writhe for a different reason than the coiling lust inside of you, black spots dancing across your vision as you struggle to breathe. But even in the midst of your predicament you hear his words clear as day.

“When I keep you stored and locked away in the casket, I’ll make sure to drill a few tiny holes for you. Wouldn’t want my little toy to actually die on me before I get my full use out of her. It’ll still be a little hard to breathe, but you don’t mind, right? You always get so wet when I choke you.”

To emphasize his point, his free hand not gripping your neck trails down your body and you wail when he easily slides two long fingers inside of you, the slick sound of him thrusting in and out of you permeating throughout the room.

“I knew you were a slut, but this is filthy even for you. I can’t believe you’re this turned on from the idea of being my sex toy. Since you want it so bad, let me make your dreams come true, princess.”

There’s nothing gentle about the way he suddenly slams his cock inside of you, immediately bottoming out, and you scream as his balls slap against your ass, eyes rolling back in your head from the sudden feeling of being stuffed full. Your lover is well-endowed and no matter how many times he takes you, it’s a stretch, but the pleasant ache of your walls being forcefully stretched, the feeling of being used as nothing more than a rag doll only propels your lustful end closer.

Matsukawa groans as your cunt clamps down around him, almost making it impossible for him to piston in and out of you at the brutal pace he desires. It’s intoxicating, freeing, being able to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls and he knows he’s being rougher than he should be, hips crashing against yours with every violent thrust, but he can’t help it, finding peace in the sex-crazed haze, no thoughts of work or stress on his mind as he uses you to chase his own end. And it’s not like you mind if your loud moans are anything to go by and he keeps on thrusting in and out of you, even after you topple off that dangerously high cliff, drowning in pleasure as you convulse and cum all over his cock.

But he doesn’t slow down, relentlessly pounding into you as you ride out the pleasurable waves and you feel like little more than an animal as you sob and drool, overstimulation washing over you, pain and pleasure breaking you as you deliriously beg for more, for him to stop, unable to decide between the two as your body thrashes from the overwhelming feelings bubbling up inside of you. And all it takes is one more look at your lewd disheveled face, the evidence of how thoroughly he’s ruined you, to have Matsukawa joining you over the edge, thrusting one last time and plugging you with his cock as he paints your insides with thick white spurts.

Exhausted, he slumps down on top of your still trembling body and you welcome the warm and comforting blanket of his presence as he murmurs sweet praises into your ears, snuggling into his affectionate and tender caresses, heavy eyelids fluttering shut. But you fight the drowsiness as he softly kisses you, regret and apologies on the tip of his tongue for being so rough without warning that you wave away as you give him a dopey blissed out grin, pulling him down for another kiss before cuddling up to him once more.

He’s careful when he finally pulls out of you, making sure none of his seed spills on the coffin lining and your face heats as you obediently listen to his gentle command for you to cup your pussy and keep all of his cum inside of you as he pulls up his boxers and pants. It’s arousing and humiliating how his dark eyes attentively stare at your used and naked body as he glides your panties back up your legs, nudging your hands away from the apex of your thighs as he snugly pulls your panties up, effectively trapping the thick fluid inside of you as he lifts you out of the casket before helping you dress and ushering you over to the desk where the now lukewarm food rests.

He fondly smiles as you refuse to leave his lap, curling into a tighter ball when he urges you to sit in the second chair he’s pulled up to his desk and eat, staring at up at him with big pleading eyes as you cutely open your mouth like a baby bird begging for food from its mother. And how can he refuse when he knows that you’ll be aching and limping for days after this because of him?

So he just playfully rolls his eyes as he brings a fork full of food to your mouth, snorting at how exaggerated and dramatic your happy dance and reaction to the first bite is, alternating between feeding himself and you. But he freezes, almost dropping the fork in shock when halfway through the meal you shyly ask him if he was serious about keeping the coffin at home, dark eyes snapping towards you, searching for any hint of jest only to be met with a curious gleam, a glimmer of hope.

No one at the funeral home ever asks Matsukawa what he ended up doing with the unwanted casket and he supposes it’s for the best, mind drifting and daydreaming about the new piece of furniture now on display in his special room, currently occupied by his most prized possession.

Suddenly work can’t be over soon enough.

#haikyuu smut #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x reader

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vanillann · 4 years ago

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you’re joking, right? (luke patterson x reader)

thank you for the request my love!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: minor angst but nothing major

“As soon as Flynn gets here the meeting will start.”

I nodded to Julie’s words, falling back onto the couch with one leg in the air as I fell back.

“I can’t wait to see if she can see us now!” Reggie bounced on his heels, the whole incident after the Orpheum changing things like how often I could see the boys and even changing the fact Julie and I could now touch them.

“I have to say, it’ll be interesting to see,” Alex nodded, taking the seat close to me and nudging my foot. I looked up from my phone, turning to my side to see Luke looking down at me.

“Wanna make room?”

“Why would I do that?” I looked up at him, smiling when he sighed, looking back to my hand.

“I’ll lay on you,” Luke spoke, trying his best to sound serious.

“He’ll only saying that to be close to you,” Julie spoke up from the piano, which earned very agreeing words from the other two ghosts in the room.

“And so what?” Luke responded, giving up by picking my feet up and making his own space. He placed my feet in his lap, holding them down so there wasn’t a chance I would move.

“I already told you, Luke, you’re a ghost,” I muttered, doing my best to not give away the little pang in my chest at the fact.

“Oh don’t worry,” Luke looked over to me, winking while looking back in front of him.

“I’ll win you over, eventually.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling my feet from his grip and sitting up properly. Not a single word was spoken, each person trying to brush off the weird tension the room had grown.

“Morning!”

Flynn's voice sounded from the driveway, all thoughts of Luke’s comment gone as we waited for the truth about the boys visibly.

⁂

“I can’t believe I can see them now!”

Flynn was practically bubbling at the fact she could see the boys, almost running into someone as she walked backward throughout the mall.

“I don’t know how, but I’m glad something good came from this Caleb thing.”

Julie nodded, grabbing Flynn's shoulders and moving her before she rammed into someone. Flynn didn’t pay any mind to it, still going on and on about how she could see them.

“Now I can finally see what Julie talks about with Luke pinning glares to you,” Flynn wiggled her eyebrows, spotting the H&M in the corner of her eye and doing a 360.

“It’s just a joke.”

Julie let out a sarcastic laugh, looking at the side of my face with an offended glare.

“A joke? You can’t be that oblivious,” Julie spoke, following Flynn into the store while holding the door open for me.

“You know Luke, he’d cocky and thinks it funny,” I tried my best to not let the little joke get to me but it wasn’t exactly easy. I mean, hot ghost boys were complicated enough but liking one added more than just a cherry on top.

It added syrup, sprinkles, and whipped cream.

“You heard him in the studio-” Julie coughed, jokily buffing out her shoulders and dropping her voice down.

“I’ll win you over, eventually,” she did the best Luke impression she could muster, causing a laugh to boil out my mouth.

“It’s Luke, he likes things he can’t have.”

Julie let her shoulders drop, giving a sympathetic smile as she grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer to her.

“He likes you, I know that much.”

I let the comment roll over my shoulder, doing my best to not think about the ghost in question but it wasn’t easy. He was making this so complicated without knowing.

Why couldn’t he like another ghost, like Alex?

“Glitter!”

I laughed as Flynn almost knocked a whole display over as she saw the glittery shoes that were on the back wall of the store.

⁂

“Ah!”

Julie’s yelp made my body jump, looking over my shoulder at Alex who gave his best sympathies for the jump scare.

“I expect it from Luke, but you Alex?”

He shrugged, standing in-between Julie and me as we both turned to each other to make it seem less weird if we were talking to nobody.

“Why can’t anyone see us?”

“It might only be people that know about you,” I shrugged, it wasn’t the craziest idea and it wouldn’t shock me if that was the thing blocking the afterlife and current life.

Alex nodded, looking between Julie and me while we waited for him to tell us whatever he felt the need to scare us for.

“Need something?” Julie looked up at Alex, shaking her head we waited.

“Oh, well I remembered you had a study hall and I had to get away from Luke.”

I nodded, Julie, waiting still for Alex to continue.

“Luke will not shut up about (Y/N),” he whipped his head around, looking at me with raised eyebrows and a thin lip nod.

“Ah, makes sense,” Julie, nodded at me. I rolled my eyes at the two, turning back to my locker to pull out my English textbook and a few pencils.

“I’m serious, he wanted me to ask you if he knew his middle name! Why do I have to do that?”

I rolled my eyes, doing my best to conceal the smile that was threatening to break across my face at the thought of a confused Luke begging Alex to ask me.

“Well (Y/N) refused to acknowledge Luke likes ‘em,” Julie muttered, I could feel her eyes on my back. I didn’t dare turn around, the bell about to ring as we made our way to the courtyard to get some studying done and fewer eyes to watch us talking to the air.

“You can’t be serious!”

Alex was a calm person, probably the calmest out of the three, but when he got worked up his voice jumped octaves and he’d fling his hands around. I was scared now, to say the least, because we could touch, which meant he could smack me with his wild hand gestures.

“He has like a million songs about, he only writes songs for people he cares about,” Alex tried to block me from walking but I easily ducked under his arm.

“Is that why he wrote “My name is Luke”?”

Julie let out a loud laugh, luckily nobody was around to question the action. Alex didn’t say anything as we continue down the hall, just little broken phrases. As I was about to open the door to the courtyard, my hand landed on something solid.

I let out a scream, backing away as Reggie fell into the door with flushed cheeks.

“Sorry (Y/N)!”

“It’s fine Reg,” I did my best to calm my racing heart, just happy I didn’t have to deal with a stranger or worse Luke.

“Sorry I had to get away from Luke, he was talking about which beanie you smiled at him in,” Reggie nodded, looking between the three of us with an awkward smile.

“Was it the orange once?” Reggie nodded, understanding my words easily. I could feel Alex pointing rapidly at the back of my head.

“What? It’s a nice color,” I shrugged, moving around Reggie to our normal seat outside.

⁂

“Please (Y/N),” Luke gave his best puppy dog eyes as I sat in one of the chairs around the studio, waiting for everyone else to come back from the snack to hang out around the room with some music involved.

“Luke,” my tone warning, finally growing tired at this game.

I couldn’t take it much longer, this stupid crush was growing more and more every time Luke said something flirty or even touched me.

“(Y/N),” he spoke my name in a sing-songy voice, giving a little smile as he mistook my anger for something else.

“Stop! I can’t take this anymore, stop it!”

I snapped, my voice bouncing off the beams of the studio roughly.

“Wow,” Luke held his hands up, backing away from me slightly. He looked hurt, but I couldn’t let that get to me if I wanted to make my point.

“Stop chasing me, it hurts Luke.”

He slowly let his hands fall to his side, studying my face as I waited for a witty comment that I would yell about and ruin everything.

“Hurt? I didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice was soft, apologetic as his hand went to reach for mine before I pulled it back.

“Yes Luke, hurt. I can’t even look at another guy because your little joke went too far.”

I pulled my arm back as he tried to reach for it, looking to the floor of the studio. Where were the rest of the group? I needed an out of this conversation.

“Joke?”

“Yes, this little “I like you” joke,” I could feel my eyes grow heavy as I waited for his apology, that he didn’t mean for this to go so far.

“Look, I know I’m funny but this wasn’t a joke.”

I wanted to laugh my head off, we were arguing and he still found a way to compliment himself.

“You can drop it, Luke, it’s fine but-”

“I can’t just drop my feelings!”

Luke was yelling down, the fire I once had was now fulling inside of Luke as his eyes searched my face.

“Luke,” as soon as I said his name he took off to the other side of the studio, picking up his songbook and flipping throughout pages.

“Skin against skin, mind against mind, I can’t believe I fell this time.”

I rolled my eyes at his antics, him flipping to a different page letting his finger run down the page.

“Give me your heart, it’ll be safe in my hands,” I slowly started walking to Luke shaking my head. I reached out to grab the book but he moved away, jumping on the couch and finding another page.

“If only you knew the warmth you bought to my broken soul.”

“Luke!”

“(Y/N)!”

I could feel hot tears streaming down my face, looking up at him with a pout on my lips.

“I’m not joking, every word I’ve said is true,” he slowly stepped off the couch, looking into my eyes with sincerity. I could feel my arms slowly uncrossing as I watched him closely.

Luke wouldn’t have let a joke go on if he knew it was hurting me.

He meant it.

“Swear on a street dog?”

“I swear on every street dog,” he reached out, grabbing my arm gently to wrap his hand in mine.

“Okay, you won.”

“I won?”

“You said you’d win my over eventually, well you won,” I spoke gently still looking deep into his eyes. A puppy dog smile graced his lips, pulling me slightly closer to him.

“That’s going to make an excellent song.”

I let myself laugh, smiling down at my feet. I could hear the door to the studio open, ignoring the stares on my back as I let myself bask in the joy I felt.

“Great! He’s going to talk about em more,” Alex let out an exhausted breathe. I turned around, dropping Luke’s hand as I faced their smiling face.

“So maybe it wasn’t a joke.”

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #reggie peters #alex mercer #luke patterson x y/n

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

Text

Anniversary (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: Claire and Ethan celebrate their anniversary.

Warnings: Alcohol, tiny allusion to the adult situations, the rest is so fluffy I’m gonna die.

A/N: You may ask yourself “Does Perrie have any self control when it comes to fics?”. And the answer is ‘no’. Always a ‘no’.

It was a rare sight, two doctors walking home from work at noon. Their hands were full. Literally. After leaving the hospital, they stopped by the store to get everything they’d need for the next two days and they got a little too excited on their shopping spree. Two bags of food, swinging slightly from Ethan’s right hand, and a bottle of expensive wine, held tightly in Claire’s left. Fingers of their unoccupied hands were tangled loosely, and they walked closely together, not wanting to take up too much space on the sidewalk.

“How did Naveen even pull this off?” she asked, turning her head towards him slightly.

“I think we have your friends to thank. They volunteered to take our patients, not even Bloom could argue with that.”

“They’re your friends too, you know?” Claire teased, pressing a kiss to his arm. The gesture made him smile thoughtfully.

“I… suppose can agree with that.”

The apartment was bright when they walked in, curtains pushed back to let in the sunlight. Claire left the wine on the counter, stretching her arms above her head with a broken sigh. Meanwhile Ethan, even though he still held two heavy bags, watched her with wonder. She fit right into the picture of his home, like she’s always been there. He wanted her to be there – all the time.

He set the bags down in the kitchen, then turned towards the cabinet to grab two glasses. The burgundy liquid set a shadow, tinting the white marble red. Ethan passed his girlfriend a glass, smirking at her surprised expression.

“It’s noon.” Claire argued, eyeing him suspiciously as she accepted the drink.

“It’s happy hour somewhere.” He shot back, taking a slow step towards her. “And besides, it’s our anniversary – we have to start celebrating sometime.”

They clinked their glasses, taking a sip. Claire eyed him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass, which she set down on the table, humming under her breath. Climbing onto the tips of her toes, she pressed her palms to his cheeks and kissed him gingerly.

“Happy anniversary.” She whispered against his lips, giving him a vivid smile. Ethan couldn’t fight a smile of his own if he wanted to – and he didn’t, because he was happy like he’s never been before.

Brushing his thumbs up and down the column of her neck, he whispered right back. “Happy anniversary.”

Slowly, the day progressed. Two people moved around the apartment together with the comfort of a pair that’s been doing this for years. When the time came for them to begin cooking dinner, Ethan immediately sat her down on the counter, having assumed that she’d want to watch.

She didn’t.

Almost immediately, she jumped onto the floor, scratching his forearm with her nails as she declared that she wanted to help. They divided tasks and got to work, sipping on their wine. Claire got through her tasks without a hitch, wandering over to Ethan to look into the pot. The strong aroma of spices wafted over them, filling the room with warmth and comfort.

She stood on the tips of her toes and brushed her lips against the shell of his ear. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Wordlessly, Ethan watched her walk away from his side, a hint of a smile present in his eyes. Not for the first time, he realized that not having her in his life wasn’t an option anymore. He simply had to have her by his side, nothing less would do.

The sun illuminated her, bringing out the freckles on her face. Amplifying the highs and lows of her strands of hair that brushed the skin of her neck with every move she made. She was glowing – his very own ray of light.

As soon as their dinner was on its way to be done and could be left unsupervised for a moment, he joined her by the sink. His arms wrapped around her, their bodies fitting like two puzzle pieces. The feeling of familiarity came back with a breathtaking force, squeezing his heart.

In that moment, he felt invincible. In that moment, he felt like everything was possible. Because she made him see that everything was possible.

In that moment, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“I love you.” he muttered into her ear, barely above a whisper – the moment too fragile to break with anything louder than that. Claire didn’t freeze in his arms, just slowly grabbed the towel to dry her hands, then turned around in his arms so she could face him.

Her eyes were shining with emotions so powerful that he felt as though she put all this force into his heart and made it beat again, faster than before. Ethan smiled – a blinding and beautiful smile that he kept hidden from all but her. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together so he could remain in their little personal bubble, his eyes never losing hers.

“I love you.” he repeated a bit louder, voice full of certainty and faith. His hand cupped her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone so softly, it seemed as though he was scared she’d break. But she wouldn’t, he knew she wouldn’t.

“Ethan…” she whispered as her hands traveled up his back and onto his shoulder blades, her words shaky but filled to the brim with affection. It felt right, like they were finally in the right place, at the right time. Everything coming together to form a perfect picture. Her green eyes stared into his blue ones, searching for any sign of fear. She found nothing but love.

“I love you.” once more, he said it, his lips brushing against hers as he did. Now that he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. He would never stop – as long as she wanted him around, he’d always tell her just that.

“I love you too.” Claire mused, tilting her head upwards, their lips meeting in a breathtaking kiss. Their bodies were already close, so much so that they didn’t think they could get any closer. Still, his arms, looped around her waist, tightened their hold, hauling her onto him with enthusiasm she’s seen in him only a handful of times before. With a giggle, she threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Again.” he bit her lip playfully, voice deep and velvety.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I. Love. You.” she punctuated every muse of a word with a kiss, leaning back against the counter and pulling him onto her.

Ethan’s hands grabbed her hips, using them as leverage to hoist her up onto the counter. Claire shrieked in surprise, laughing at his carefree behavior. Standing between her legs, he kissed her again, taking a deep breath of relief. There was nothing that could potentially stop him from losing himself in her.

Except for the insisting sound of the pot that demanded their attention.

With a disappointed sigh, he let her go, rushing to check on their food. She observed him, amused, but didn’t dare to move a muscle. Seconds later, he returned to her arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Not the best time?”

“I’m afraid so. But think about it this way.” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “We have two days before we have to go back to work. And I already told everyone to not contact us until then.”

“They’ll all think we didn’t leave the bed for two days.” Ethan argued halfheartedly, his lips now pressing soft kisses to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. A shiver ran down her spine at the sensation.

“Will they be wrong?”

“Absolutely not.”

It was far later in the afternoon when they finished dinner and retired to the couch for some much-needed rest. For the past hour or so, the screen of the TV was occupied by some show neither knew the title of. Neither could also say what the show was about, as they very much preferred talking to each other and finishing the bottle of wine they bought.

Claire stood up and headed towards the kitchen to grab a second one from his liquor cabinet, just lightly tipsy. She returned not long after, placing both the wine and the bottle opener on the table, then turned towards her boyfriend with a smirk full of mischief.

She extended her hand wordlessly, wiggling her fingers. He eyed her palm, then her, suspicious of her sudden idea, but found nothing that stopped him from joining her in the middle of his living room.

His own movements were slightly off balanced as he himself was intoxicated, but nevertheless, his arms embraced her and pulled her closer, holding her gently as they began to sway. Claire pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“There’s no music.” He pointed out, looking down at her with a crooked grin. The light of the late afternoon enhanced the features of her face, giving her green eyes a golden hue. She hugged him tighter.

“I don’t need music.” Claire muttered, kissing his jaw and snaking her hand up towards the back of his neck.

“Then it’s perfect.” Nodding, he let her guide his head a bit lower so that their foreheads would touch. With a smile, he added. “Because I don’t need it either.”

Notes

Once again, thank you so much for being here, every single one of you. It’s a privilege to be able to create for you, I can’t stress this enough <3

Time to go back to my corner and cry some more. Or write smut, who knows. Well, I do, but that’s beside the point.

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices #ethan x mc

133 notes · View notes

soulmate-game · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt: “How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that" with... hmmmm.... Dick? Yeah, with Dick!

Real quick, I think a few of you misunderstood. When I say 3-from-1, I mean I am taking your single quote and pairing, and using it in all three prompts, not just one. Maybe this first one will help explain. Here are parts 1 and 2, since I think I’ve gone long enough without giving you guys content. I’m still working on the last part for this prompt, but it should be done soon!

— Part 1: The Romantic One (so Dickinette)

Tom and Sabine had decided that maybe a break from Paris was in order. Nobody could tell if it was the maniac turning random citizens into superpowered villains every other day, the fact that their daughter had come home with a few bruises that suggested extreme escalation on the side of her school bullies, or how they had caught said daughter asleep against her mannequin— standing up and drooling all over her expensive fabric.

Paris was clearly not a healthy place for Marinette at the moment, and a nice month-long vacation to Jump City was just what they needed. It was similar enough, with its villains and heroes, that they wouldn’t get too whiplashed by the long change in scenery. But it was also a lot safer than Paris was at the moment, and without nearly as many frequent large-scale villain attacks that ended with half the city in ruins as other places (looking at you, Gotham and Metropolis). The lack of villains that took advantage of civilian emotions was a plus.

Marinette, for one, was extremely grateful for the change. Sure, she still had to teleport back to Paris whenever an Akuma showed up, but Jump City was so much easier to relax in. And the ability to see the city’s heroes just walking around in full costume during the day, just relaxing, was an unexpectedly nice thing to experience. Marinette, as it turned out, happened to have a similar taste for places to hang out.

Now, she never spoke to them. She tended to just smile at the sight of them and go back to her own business— she knew how annoying it could be when people always invaded someone’s personal life just because they were well known. So when she saw them every now and then at the best arcade in town, or at one of the few vegan-friendly restaurants she liked? It brightened her day a bit, and she was pleasantly relaxed for quite a while afterwards. It was like, despite never actually approaching them, she was still among friends for once. People who understood everything she had gone through over the past several years since donning the Ladybug miraculous.

So yeah, she was enjoying her time in Jump City. So much so that her parents extended the trip indefinitely, and went through all the necessary paperwork to open a second location for their bakery in the city. They liked it there too.

That led to Marinette standing in line inside of the bank, right after getting all her own paperwork to attend school in Jump City in order. She was already exhausted from all the waiting and general boredom that followed doing anything official in America, and it was already past sunset to boot. The last thing she wanted was to be around when a villain attacked. The bank was already about to close and she didn’t know if they’d call her up in time for her to do what she needed to do.

And what happens? A blue-skinned magician with clear insanity and far too much of a resemblance to an Akuma to give her any sort of comfort comes bursting in and robbing the place. Marinette could only sigh, taking out her phone and informing her parents about the change in plans with all the ease of someone who was far too used to these kinds of things to be healthy. Luckily, the Teen Titans burst in only a few seconds later— must have been on a stake out, she thought.

Marinette put her phone away, deciding just to watch everyone in action. It was almost surreal, seeing such a large team fighting with such fluidity and lack of arguing. They seemed like such a perfect team, it made her envious. Only Chat was a good partner anymore, Marinette dreaded the days she had to find another temporary holder because nobody was a safe choice anymore. But the Teen Titans? They were a beautiful sight to behold.

That is, until Mumbo set his sights on her. The only civilian who wasn’t currently restrained, panicked, or hiding. Marinette blinked.

Oh, she thought. I must have been so tired I forgot to react to anything again.

But Marinette was also too tired to care much about first impressions, so the second Mumbo grabbed her arm and tried to use her as a hostage, she Reacted. The Teen Titans could only watch as Marinette jumped up and over Mumbo’s head, dragging his arm behind him in the process, before slamming her other fist into the small of his back and sending him onto his knees. As he tried to twist away, she kneed his wand out of his hand and twisted his other arm behind his back before he could cast another spell. Right before he could say some magic word and turn the tables on her, he was met with her head hitting the back of his and sending him unconscious immediately.

Problem handled, Marinette let go of him and backed off, dusting her hands off before letting loose a huge yawn.

She turned to leave when Cyborg’s hesitant voice Called out: “Uh, Ma’am? You should wait for the police. They’ll probably want your statement.”

Marinette blinked, and sighed as her shoulders dropped in dismay. “Oh yeah. I forgot I actually fought this time. Sorry,” she sighed again before adjusting her purse on her shoulder and obediently walking further inside the bank, leaning against the wall to wait. That was when Robin approached her, passing a few glances between her and the now-bound-up Mumbo.

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” he cut himself off mid-question, shaking his head. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s nothing all that special, Monsieur Robin,” Marinette assured, still amused. “And I’ve seen you do far more impressive things, I’m hardly that good of a fighter. My Maman has a background in martial arts, her whole side of the family has a minor obsession with teaching the girls how to fight,” she admitted with a small shrug. “It’s how we bonded, growing up. Every weekend she’d spar with me and we’d spend the whole day just training, and my Papan would bring food in every now and then when he wanted us to take a break. We don’t do it as often now, my Maman says she’s getting a little too old to spar all the time, but I still practice on my own.”

The vigilante blinked, not knowing how to respond for a moment. It was then that Marinette noticed the entire team had been listening, the police having already arrived and taking Mumbo away in cuffs. She blushed a bit, coughing into her hand in embarrassment.

“A-Ah, well. I wouldn’t have interfered at all if I wasn’t so tired, I’m sorry if I got in your way,” she began to babble, the usual nerves that came with having so many eyes on her kicking in. “I tend to space out when I’m exhausted, and so I kinda forgot to react when Mumbo came in? I just spaced out, and I got distracted watching you guys fight so well, and then he tried to grab me and I just… kinda… reacted?” Her voice got faster and higher as she spoke, until she ended her babbling by making it sound like a question. “I promise I won’t make this habit or anything, it’s just been a long day!”

“You…” It was Beast Boy who spoke up, eyes wide. “Did that while you were exhausted?! Woah! I’ve never seen anyone other than Robin fight like that when they were tired!”

Marinette knew her face must have been completely red by then, because it felt like her head was on fire. “I-it’s really not a big deal!” She started waving her hands in Marinette Denial, shaking her head like crazy. “P-probably just a fluke or something! I’ll just give my statement and get out of your hair!” She didn’t wait for a response before fleeing to the police out of sheer humiliation, and giving them the world’s fastest statement. The Titans tried to get her attention as she left, but her face was still one giant, ripe tomato and she just speed walked right past them without a word.

She didn’t even notice that she was followed home, or that she had a team of heroes watching her for a while before they completed their background search and left back for their own home. Or that Robin cast a glance back at her apartment several times as they left, questions crossing his mind too fast to recall all of them.

It wasn’t until a week later that Marinette saw them again, this time when she was at the grocery store. She let her shoulders drop when she saw them talking to each other in the middle of a random aisle, debating over which brand of a product to buy. Once again, a small smile crossed over her lips and she walked on by, fully intent on leaving them be and enjoying the aura of calm that their presence always seemed to give her. It was as she was calmly debating over which kind of fruit would make the best filling for the danishes she wanted to make, that a hand tapped her shoulder. She hummed, tearing her eyes away from the blueberries and raspberries to turn around.

“Yes? Do you need—“ she cut herself off when she saw that the person who had tapped her shoulder was none other than Robin himself, with the rest of his team giving her friendly smiles over his shoulder. She blue screened for a moment before shaking her head, sending him a small, confused smile. “Is there something you need, Monsieur Robin?”

“As a matter of fact,” he ran a hand through his unfairly fluffy hair as he gave her a far too charming, lopsided grin. “I hope you don’t mind that I did some research on you and your family after we met last week—“ Marinette almost laughed when she saw how his teammates face-palmed behind him and quietly groaned about how much tact he lacked. “—and I realized why your movements seemed so familiar. Your mother wouldn’t happen to be from the Cheng family in Hong Kong, would she?”

Marinette immediately lost most of her embarrassment, snorting. “You’re the one who did my background check, you tell me,” she teased. The rest of the Titans seemed floored by the fact that she wasn’t at all annoyed, insulted, or creeped out. “But since you’re asking anyway, yes. The group of primarily female martial artists in Hong Kong, the Chengs, is run by my Aunt. Why?”

Robin’s smile grew. “Well, it just so happens that they have one of the only unique combat styles that my mentor— Batman, of course— was never able to learn.”

Marinette actually did laugh now, connecting the dots as to what he wanted to actually ask. “Ah, because they only accept male pupils if they are blood-relations, non? Let me guess,” she crossed her arms and popped one hip, giving him a smug little grin. “You want me to teach you?”

“We have the best training facilities you have ever seen,” he bribed, eyes practically shining at the prospect of training in a new style of combat.

“I don’t doubt it,” Marinette got a little dreamy eyed herself at the thought. “And Maman can’t spar with me anytime soon… why not? I’m not bound by the Cheng rules after all, nobody can get mad if I teach you. And it requires a lot of gymnastic ability, which you clearly already have. Just one question,” she turned, gesturing to the fruit behind her. “Do you prefer blueberry or raspberry? I’m trying out a new danish recipe and don’t know which to choose.”

She did not miss how, as she was walking out with a few new acquaintances by her side and a few cases of blueberries, Cyborg whispered to Beast Boy:

“I can’t believe Robin actually picked up a girl when he led with the ‘we did an extensive check on your family history’ schtick!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slam! Marinette’s shin collided with Robin’s waist while they were both mid-air, sending the vigilante flying to the ground, tumbling until he could gain traction and stop himself. Marinette, on the other hand, landed on the padded floor of the training room nimbly.

“Not bad!” She praised. “You’re picking it all up really quickly!” Robin scoffed goodbye-naturedly, smirking as he stood up.

“If you didn’t restrict me to only using Cheng-style, I’d have won,” he boasted. Marinette’s eyes shone playfully at the challenge.

“Are you sure? I restricted myself to that style as well,” she teased. “It is the best way for you to learn, after all.”

As per usual, the rest of the Titans were nearby either doing their own training or snacking as they watched. Nobody left Marinette alone when she was at the Tower, which she understood. Apparently they had had someone betray them in the past, so she understood being cautious around her even if she had been teaching Robin twice a week for the past two months. Starfire floated up, flying over to tell them both about how much more exciting this spar had been than the last few, but the Tamaranean was interrupted when Marinette’s phone let out a loud alarm.

Being who they were, all the Titans stiffened and were immediately at alert. Marinette cursed softly, pulling out her phone to see—

“What’s an Akuma Alert?” Robin, ever the nosy idiot, asked. Marinette clenched her jaw. This was not good. It was only nine in the morning in Jump City, making it three in the morning back in Paris. Marinette had hoped he wouldn’t decide to have a late night attack when she was in Titan Tower and essentially trapped.

Marinette looked up from her phone, looking around as everyone’s gazes grew suspicious the longer she stayed silent. Until, finally, she sighed and silenced her phone. She began to speak even as she unzipped her purse to put it away.

“It’s an alert from Paris. I’m sorry, and I understand if you do not wish to see me after this, but I must go.”

“Go where? Paris?” Raven asked, sweeping up to stand next to Beat Boy. If this turned out to be another Terra situation, the boy would need support again. Terra had torn his heart out, and Beast Boy had finally allowed himself to like Marinette and get close to her as a friend. All of them had. “How?”

Marinette clenched her eyes shut, mourning the friendships she was sure she had just lost. Maybe she should stick to the opposite side of the city from then on, so they wouldn’t have to run into her again. With that plan in mind, she drew the magical pair of glasses out of her purse and put them on, making Kaalki materialize.

The Titans stiffened, and Marinette felt her heart shatter a little. But she still called on both of her transformations, and left to save Paris.

She did not go back to the Tower. When the battle was over, she just opened the returning portal straight to the alley outside her apartment and went back home to sob into her pillow. She couldn’t explain what was going on, wasn’t sure they would even want to listen. And she and Robin had been getting so close, too.

But Marinette would not stick around after keeping secrets. She was certain they hated her, anyway.

She went out of her way to avoid them, not even looking their way when they passed by her apartment— on purpose, she was sure. She did everything she could to avoid them. But one day, she couldn’t. She was in the middle of trying to lose them in the alleys on her way to go grocery shopping, when a wall of black cut her off, shadows moving to pile up dumpsters and block her escape. Marinette shrunk in on herself— so they were finally moving up to using their powers, huh?

She heard Starfire drop down to hover behind her next, then the sight of a green hawk landing on a balcony nearby gave away Beast Boy. Robin dropped down from a rooftop, and Cyborg pulled up in the T-Car to block the entrance of the alleyway.

“Marinette,” Robin started, but she shook her head and cut him off.

“Robin, I’m trying to stay out of you guys’s way. I get it, I kept secrets and that’s not cool, I’m not gonna interfere in your fights, you don’t have to worry about—“

“Friend Marinette, we are not angry,” Starfire spoke up, flying over to land next to her. She put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Her eyes widened, and the smaller girl gulped.

“You… aren't?”

“We hacked into Paris news and street cams after you left,” Cyborg admitted, crossing his arms before giving her a wide smile. “Why didn’t you just tell us you were one of Paris’s heroes? Did ya think we wouldn’t understand or something?” Marinette froze, and then her face grew red when realization set in.

“... Oh Kwami. I’m freaking out about heroes finding out my identity… as a hero…” she groaned as soon as she said it, her head falling into her hands as her friends laughed around her.

“Guess I don’t need that plausible deniability for the reasons I thought,” Robin joked, making Marinette glare at him.

“Don’t tease me, I’m too busy being mortified.”

“Too busy for me to offer you a room at the tower?” He asked, and Marinette looked up to berate him for continuing to tease her, only to stop and realize that his expression said he was completely serious. Her eyes widened in shock once again, and she opened and closed her mouth only for her voice to not work. Robin smiled, holding out one of his hands to her.

“Just for whenever you need a break. Judging by your reaction, your parents don’t know about Ladybug, right?” Marinettte winced at his words. She gave them a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

“No, back when we lived in Paris it was way too risky for anyone to know, even them. And now that we’re in Jump City, it’s been so long that…” she shook her head. “I don’t think they’d take it well.”

“Because they don’t understand,” Raven guessed, earning a nod and a small smile from the Parisian girl.

“And that’s why we’re offering you a room,” Robin continued, crossing his arms and giving her a confident, relaxed smile. “A temporary one, for whenever you need to drop by and be around people who understand you a bit better. Now, everything outside of the bedroom itself will still heavily monitor you for a while, but—“

“That’s fine!” Marinette agreed easily, beaming happily. “I get it, trust isn’t something that is easy to earn especially when it’s already been broken before. But the offer itself is already extremely generous, thank you!” Marinette lunged forward, tackling Robin in a tight hug. He laughed, returning the embrace.

“Dogpile!” Beast Boy yelled, of course transforming into a giant Saint Bernard as he leapt to start a group hug. His huge, furry body slammed Marinette and Robin to the ground, making them groan in pain and annoyance before Starfire picked all three of them up and started her own crushing hug. Followed by Cyborg wrapping his hands around the pile of superhero on the opposite side, and Raven… just kinda floating over to slump on top of the ball of teenaged heroes in the laziest hug ever.

Marinette didn’t stop laughing until her sides hurt.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had become a constant presence at the Tower, and Ladybug had even become an occasional member of the Team. She was officially labeled as a reserve member of the Titans, since her duties in Paris came first. But she was fine with that. She didn’t want to draw Hawkmoth’s attention to Jump City after all, but the few and far-between appearances she made weren’t too odd. It had already been a year and a half of her new life in America, on one of the weekends where Marinette found herself sprawled against the couch scrolling through Instagram on her phone, that everything changed. She heard the elevator door open, and took only a second to narrow down who it could be.

First; Kori was visiting Tamaran and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. Victor was working on the T-car and probably wouldn’t come back up for a while. Rachel was meditating, as always, and Marinette could still feel the magic aura from the floor above that told her that she had not moved a muscle. Gar was taking a literal cat nap on the kitchen counter. Only Robin was unaccounted for, since he had gone to Gotham to visit Batman for some “top secret Bat business” and could come back at any moment.

Deduction done, Marinette felt herself smile unintentionally. Her and Robin had become immeasurably close, and she had been pining after him for almost— well, since she first started training him all that time ago. So she sat up, ready to go attack her best friend and major crush in a hug.

“Welcome ba— WHAT THE FUCK?!” Marinette tripped over thin air like she hardly did nowadays, floored by the sight in front of her. Robin was a stickler for his identity, though the rest of the Titans weren’t really. She had never seen him out of uniform, including mask, in the entire time she’d known him. Never heard his real name.

But here stood a boy her age, with extremely familiar fluffy hair and strong jaw. Who seemed extremely conflicted and distraught, in a black hoodie and sweatpants. It was the glimpse of red and yellow under the fully zipped-up hoodie and the slip of black fabric he held in one tightly curled fist that solidified exactly who this blue-eyed beauty was. Marinette swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Her yell had startled Garfield awake, who burst into his normal form and was staring at the scene equally wide- eyed. He made a few rapid gestures with his hands before choking out;

“I— I’m gonna… go see if Cy needs help,” before he scrambled away and into the elevator, flabbergasted. Robin didn’t say a word the whole time, just silently moving out of the way for the other boy.

Once Beast Boy was gone, the silence returned with stifling intensity. Marinette finally managed to clear her throat and get her thoughts in order.

“Are you okay?” She asked, because his well-being was more important than the fact that she was seeing his whole face for the first time. Because the fact that this was happening at all meant that something was probably very wrong. Just to make sure, she reached out with her Guardian abilities to read his aura— and yes, it was Robin. It couldn’t be anyone else.

But he didn’t look at all like their normally composed, erratic, confident leader. He looked like a young adult who had just had his world upturned and didn’t know how to manage it. He finally raised his eyes from the ground to meet her’s.

“... Batman got a new Robin… a while ago, apparently.”

Marinette sucked air through her teeth, grimacing. Yeah, that… that was a lot. “Come here,” she sat down and patted the couch next to her. “You clearly need to talk. We can even spar later if you want.”

He walked over, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “For once, I don’t think sparring will help. I mean yeah, I left Batman a long time ago because he wouldn’t take me seriously, but…”

Marinette understood. That was different than Batman giving his title to someone entirely new without even telling him. So she sat, and she listened as Robin explained all about his new adoptive brother, about the fight he had had with Bruce. Because apparently Batman was Bruce Wayne, but Marinette would shelve that headache for another day. At the end of it all, she hummed.

“Sounds like you need a new name then.”

“Mari,” Robin glared at her half heartedly. “That’s all you have to say? Really?”

“No,” she shrugged. “But I can’t keep calling you Robin, can I? But okay, you want me to be serious? It sounds like he was trying to do a good thing, getting Jason off the streets. Was he right to just give your moniker away with no warning? Of course not. But I don’t think he did it maliciously. If anything, I think this proves that Robin is a title for Batman’s sidekick to hold. And you’ve gotten way past that point in your life.”

“Well, for starters,” he said after a while. “My real name’s Dick.”

Marinette deadpanned at him, raising an eyebrow. “... I’m sorry, what?”

That got a snort out of him, and he smiled for the first time since he got back, running a hand through his hair again as he grinned at her. “Well, technically it’s Richard. Richard Grayson. But I prefer going by Dick.”

“Oh for the love of— good luck surviving Victor and Gar after you tell them that,” she warned, rubbing her temples at the mere thought of the chaos that was going to ensue. Rob— Dick— just laughed. But this time when he fell silent, Marinette didn’t immediately notice through her preemptive headache. But when she did, she looked up at him only to see him staring at her silently, an odd spark in his eyes. “What?”

“Well, if we’re admitting things and getting rid of secrets…” he started, leaning back a bit as his cheeks suddenly took on a pink tint. He cleared his throat, but met her eyes bravely. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, Marinette. If, uh, if you want. To go out with me, I mean.”

Marinette sat there, out of order, for a moment as her brain refused to work. Dick panicked.

“I mean, I get it if you don’t. Dating in the team and all, probably not the smartest move ever. So I get it—“

“Shut up,” Marinette interrupted, her face entirely pink. “I just couldn’t talk for a sec. yes, Dick. A million times, yes I’ll go out with you. Holy crap how dare you catch me off guard like that you jerk,” she glared at him before the two of them broke, bursting into laughter and leaning on one another.

They had gone through a lot. If the others found them slumped against one another on the couch, asleep and still holding hands, well they deserved the rest after the day they’d had. Now whether or not they deserved the many photos that had been taken to be held as blackmail against them? That was up for debate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 2: The same prompt, but siblings this time

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dickinette #3 from 1 challenge

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kookiesjoonies · 4 years ago

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risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon.

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe.

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together.

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red.

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in.

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote.

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on.

“I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.”

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words.

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it.

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands.

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips.

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing.

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff.

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder.

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building.

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears.

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you.

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina.

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed.

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.”

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores.

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you.

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.”

“I told her I was on my way here.”

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine.

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend.

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.”

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.”

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now.

“She doesn’t like me, does she?”

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?”

No, he couldn’t.

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.”

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you.

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.”

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you.

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be.

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display.

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché.

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together.

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren.

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him.

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.”

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook.

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment.

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs.

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!”

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground.

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way.

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.”

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again.

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears.

“Okay. One more chance.”

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis.

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction.

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice.

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.”

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes.

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.”

“Sure thing.”

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek.

“Get home safe, Kook.”

⇠ masterlist ⇢

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! thanks for reading!

tag list: @ppersonna @taetaewonderland @preciouschimine @agaassi @honeyoongles @jinhitwhore @alterlovess @dontaskshhhhh @bonobonoya2001 @fan-ati–c @diorhobii @athenakyle @nerdycookiemonster-1222 @ashleyjoyx @sadgalsadpal @shaktibhardwaj @jeonsbananamilk @bat-shark-repellant @jkhey97 @sterynlis @aizuwusho @krystle1990 @crazylittlemay @betysotelo18 @cypheruby @deadleaves278 @awesomekpoptrashblogposts @styxdagger @kookoo-kachoo @jungkooksseuphoria @imluckybitches @ayasanuwu @sugaminh @kisskoos @tae165 @themyscirarey @janetgordyx3 @mini-coop25 @out-of-jams @sugalarity @yoongissugarmommy @missseoulite @amoreguk @meesheru @namugguk @guksweet @55west81st @barbikatherine @ilyeuphoria @jeon-joker

if you aren’t tagged, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for some reason. so sorry! :(

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deareddie · 4 years ago

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dedicated to the one i love

buck/eddie, fluff, 1.1k

Dear Eddie,

When I told Maddie how I felt about you, she suggested I write it down. In a letter, or just a note -not to send, just to help me sort out my feelings.

The problem is, though, that I've already got them all figured out. I just don't know how to tell you.

And that's probably mostly because I have no clue if you'd want me to. Sometimes I think you do. You look at me for a little too long, or flash me that smile that seems to be only reserved for me (though that could just be wishful thinking on my part). Sometimes we sit a bit too close together, and your touch lingers a bit too long, and I think maybe. Just maybe, he feels the way I do.

But then the moment is gone, and that doubt creeps in, and I don't know what to think anymore.

Because it would change everything, wouldn't it? Even if we tried not to let it, things would be different. It could be bad, or good, I suppose, depending on your reaction, but different nonetheless. And when we've got such a good thing going here -a life together already- would it really be worth it to risk all of that?

I don't know. I really don't. There are so many questions swimming around my mind and I don't have an answer to a single one of them.

All I know is that I love you. I have no clue if I'll ever tell you, or if I'll ever be able to pick up the pieces if I do and you tell me you don't feel the same. But I'm sure that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I can write it here as much as I want because I know you'll never read this. I love you, Eddie Diaz. Fully and completely.

Yours, always,

Buck.

Eddie is frozen in place where he’s standing in the middle of Buck’s bedroom.

He wasn’t supposed to read this. He’s not even supposed to know of its existence, but he’d come up here to borrow a hoodie, and when he’d shoved his cold hands into the front pocket, he’d been met with a piece of paper at his fingertips. At first, he figured it was some kind of forgotten receipt from a past trip to the store, and had pulled it out with plans to ask Buck what to do with it. But then he looked down and found his own name glaring up at him from the page, and, well. He couldn’t really help his curiosity.

“What’s taking so long?” Buck calls from downstairs. “The popcorn’s getting cold.” He bounds up the stairs before Eddie even has time to register the words he had spoken, and he’s suddenly there, right in front of him.

Right. Buck. Buck, who had been downstairs getting the TV set up for their movie night, clueless to the enormous shift that had taken place upstairs. Buck, who is not just the name signed at the bottom of this paper, but a real person standing in this apartment with him. Buck, who is… in love with him.

Eddie can see the moment that Buck registers the letter in his hand; the moment that confusion morphs into realisation, which quickly changes to a wide-eyed look that could only be described as horror. “Eddie…” He starts, but doesn’t continue. Eddie doesn’t really know if there’s anything else to say, seeing as everything seems to have been summed up and scrawled onto the piece of paper in front of him.

"Didn't know you were secretly a poet," Eddie jokes nervously, raising the letter in his hand slightly.

Buck swallows. "Straight A's in high school English," he says.

Eddie nods. “Impressive.” He stares back down at the paper, lowering himself slowly onto the corner of the bed, trying to take in every word. He can hear the noise of the city, wafting in through the open window, carried by the breeze. But all of it is drowned out as he repeats those last few words of the letter, over and over in his mind.

Buck loves him. Fully and completely, to quote the man himself. And god, Eddie had been waiting for this moment for longer than he can remember. Frankly, he’s surprised it wasn’t obvious. But then again, he’d never realised that Buck felt the same, so either they were both extremely good at hiding their feelings, or just a couple of clueless morons.

From the looks he’s been getting from Hen the last couple of months, he’s going to guess it’s the latter.

“No one’s ever written me a love letter before,” he says quietly, glancing back up at Buck.

Buck stares back at him, eyes full of uncertainty. “No?”

Eddie shakes his head gently. “No.”

After a beat of silence, Buck speaks again. “Look, Eddie, I’m sorry, I- I never meant for you to see that. It’s weird, we can just pretend it never happened-”

“I don’t want to.”

Buck blinks. “What?”

Eddie stands, taking a step closer. The cool air blows in again, and Eddie almost feels as if it’s pushing them towards each other. Carrying their conversation through the previously still air; surrounding them with the cold so that they have no choice but to be drawn to each other’s warmth. “I don’t want to pretend it never happened.”

“You don’t?” Buck asks, barely above a whisper.

Eddie smiles softly, coming even closer. There’s not much space between them now. “No,” he says. “These are the exact words I’ve been dying to hear, Buck.” He scowls for a moment, glancing back at the paper. “Or, well, read.” Buck shakes his head in amusement, trying -and failing- to fight back an excited grin.

“Here, one second.” Eddie holds up a finger, and glances around the room, spotting a pen on the bedside table. He grabs it, scrawling his own small message at the bottom of the page, and hands the paper to Buck for him to read. It flutters slightly in the breeze.

Dear Buck,

I love you too.

Yours truly,

Eddie.

Eddie closes the distance between them finally, snaking a hand around Buck’s waist to pull him closer. His cold hands have got nothing on everything that is currently radiating off of Buck. Heat, for one, but there’s also hope, love and amusement all dancing together in his eyes.

“There’s no fancy metaphors or anything,” Eddie says, shrugging. “But I only ever got B’s in English, so.”

Buck just grins and pulls him in for a kiss.

Neither of them closes the window.

#911 fox #911 fic #buddie fic #buddie #yet another thing i wrote all in one go #inspiration struck in the shower once again what can i say #idk what this is #take it #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 #katewrites

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reinerispretty · 4 years ago

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groceries. (sokka x f!reader) modern AU

hello!!! i have been wanting to write this for a while. this is based off of one of my favorite songs :) i am sorry if you don’t like modern au’s but i just thought it would make more sense with the song!! it is called groceries and it’s by mallrat!! give it a listen :D

read part 2 here!

Real sorry about your broken heart I'm trying to walk on broken glass Do it all again for art Like had to write a song about it

(Y/N) walked up the concrete steps and four flights of stairs to Sokka’s apartment. By the time she reached his hall, her legs were aching, but she pushed through and walked down the hall to the dark grey door with the golden 4D loosely hanging from a screw. She knocked hard against the door, just in case he was listening to music, and tapped the hanging metal to make it swing.

The door slowly opened to reveal Sokka, wearing a baggy light blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. (Y/N) smiled sadly as she stared at him. His eyes were puffy, like he had been crying, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her fingers tightened around the bag that was slung on her shoulder.

“Can I come in?” Sokka shrugged, letting her into his apartment. It was oddly...clean. She had been here many times before and had never seen it this clean: no take out boxes strung across the counters, no clothes strung across the floor. It was like he didn’t even live here anymore.

“Katara told me what happened,” she said quietly as she took a seat on the couch. Sokka scoffed.

“Katara needs to mind her own business.”

“Your business is her business, Sokka. She cares about you.” He stood with his back to the door, still not looking at her. She stood, dropping her bag on the floor and moving into the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything?”

He shrugged. “I need to go to the store.” (Y/N) opened his fridge to find a single papaya on the top shelf.

“I’ll take you.” She slung her bag over the shoulder. “Come on, it’s only a block away.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It looks like I do.”

I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that

Sokka sighed, grabbing his keys and wallet before they both went down the stairs. When they got outside, Sokka winced at the bright light. “When was the last time you went outside?” He turned his head away from her, avoiding her gaze again. It broke her heart, seeing him like this. Sokka was normally the sunshine in everyone’s day. Funny, outgoing, optimistic. She couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t smiled at her.

They walked down the sidewalk side by side. She could tell that his mind was elsewhere, as she had to pull him out of the way of people on multiple occasions. “Thanks,” He mumbled as he pulled his arm away. (Y/N)’s fingers curled into her palm, which dropped to her side. She checked her phone to avoid having to start conversation. A message from Katara: Is he opening up yet?

(Y/N) dropped her phone back into her bag as they walked into the grocery store. Sokka grabbed a cart, slumping over the railing as he followed (Y/N) through the store. She grabbed him the usual: bread, some cereal, fruits and veggies. She turned back to look at him. “What else do you need?”

“Um...” He gestured lazily to the other side of the aisle. “Fruit snacks.” (Y/N) smiled, just a bit.

“Mott’s or Welch’s?” She held up both boxes. Sokka thought for a moment before answering.

“Welch’s.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose in disgust. “What’s wrong with Welch’s?”

“Nothing, if you have bad taste.” She tossed the box into the cart, laughing at Sokka’s hurt expression as they moved onto the next aisle.

I just wanna get groceries I'll pray you wanna get close to me I'll give it some, give it some, give it some time But I think we're supposed to be And if you wanna get groceries And if you wanna get close to me Just gimme some, gimme some, gimme some sign I think that we're supposed to be

They moved onto the freezer aisle. (Y/N) grabbed almost every frozen meal under the sun. She returned to the cart with her arms full, dropping the meals on top of the rest of the groceries. “That’s a lot,” Sokka said.

“It’ll be easy to pop in the microwave,” She explained. “From how your apartment looked it seemed like you couldn’t be bothered to feed yourself.”

Sokka looked down at his hands. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” (Y/N) stared at him for so long that an old lady grumpily scooted her cart past them.

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said quietly, but she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing to Sokka or the old lady.

They checked out at the front and then carried armfuls of groceries back to his apartment. As they walked up all the stairs, (Y/N) wished that Sokka would move to a building like Aang’s, with a nice elevator. Instead he chose the building with the most stairs in the universe.

They finally reached Sokka’s apartment and placed all of the groceries on the counter. (Y/N) began putting things in their proper place. She had been here enough times to know where he liked his things.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly. She didn’t turn back to look at him this time.

“I know. I want to.” She moved to the stove and put a teapot on the burner. “Sit down, I can make us some tea.”

He would normally argue playfully with her, but this time he didn’t say anything. He sat on the couch quietly and pulled his feet up, resting his elbow on the armrest.

“Why’d you come?”

“Because Katara called me. Asked me to check in on you.”

“But why you?” (Y/N) cleared her throat.

“She knows I care about you.” The teapot started to shout, so she took it off the burner and poured it into two cups with tea bags. She brought one over to Sokka and sat in the rocking chair beside the couch. There was so much space in between them. It wasn’t normal. They used to be so close. She remembered sitting on that exact same couch with him, laughing at one of his jokes while something on Netflix played in the background. Now it felt like she was sitting with a stranger.

I wish that I could let it pass I don't mind that you put it last I made it worse, I put you first We're laughing like it didn't hurt I'm in the dirt, I'll make it work though

Sokka stared at the mug in front of him. It was a cheesy souvenir shop mug that read “World’s Best Boyfriend” and as sad as it was, it brought tears to his eyes. He used his sleeves to wipe them away before (Y/N) saw, but he was too late. She came to his side immediately and sat close to him. She didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, but she wanted to let him know that she was there.

“I didn’t read the mug before I gave it to you, I’m sorry,” She whispered quietly. Sokka shook his head.

“It’s fine, really, I’m fine.” He gave one large sniff before turning toward her, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Sokka...” She pulled her knees up on the couch. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I just-” He wiped his nose. “Why did she have to leave?”

(Y/N) let out a large sigh. The distance between her and Sokka wasn’t without reason. After years of pining, he and Yue finally started dating. They were a cute couple, (Y/N) had to admit, but it hurt her too much to see them together. She had been in love with Sokka for as long as she could remember. They had even kissed once, a year ago, at Zuko’s birthday celebration. There had been alcohol involved, but (Y/N) had thought it might change things. A week later, he and Yue started dating and (Y/N) stopped coming around Sokka’s place as much. She would see him at gatherings and act like she was happy, but on the inside her heart was heavier than ever. She separated herself from their friend group for a while and whenever anyone asked she just claimed she was really busy from school. It was easier that way, not seeing anyone.

But just as quickly as they got together, they separated. Yue packed all of her belongings and left without so much as a goodbye. And while she felt a little relieved when Katara had told her their relationship had ended, she couldn’t help but feel so sad for Sokka. He was the kindest human she had ever known and he didn’t deserve to feel like he had done something wrong.

“Maybe she needed a fresh start,” (Y/N) said.

“Without me.” He played with the frayed edges of his sleeves.

“Sokka, Yue loved you a lot. Loved you so much that sometimes it made me sick. But sometimes, people need to leave to get their own stuff figured out. I guarantee it wasn’t because of you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you treated her like she hung up the moon and stars for you.” (Y/N) felt a lump forming at her throat. Whenever she thought about them, it made her sad. “You’re a good person, Sokka. And Yue knows that. But take it from me, maybe it just wasn’t the right time.”

Sokka looked into (Y/N’s) eyes for the first time that day. He stared at her for a few moments and she stared right back, her gave immovable. Sokka was a go-with-the-flow kind of person, but (Y/N) was more of a rock. She especially needed to be a rock for him right now.

“I’m glad Katara called you today,” He admitted. “I missed having you around.”

A smile rose on (Y/N’s) lips. “Me too.”

This sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Except ya, but you're just friends with Miss Independent And this sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Heart broke, but I spend it, 'cause I'm Miss Independent

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss , @aimee1602 , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @mdgrdians

#atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka x reader #modern au #atla modern #zuko x reader #aang x reader #writing #fanfiction #sokka #zuko #katara #aang #iroh #toph #momo #appa #azula

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im-whatchamccallit · 4 years ago

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New Normal//Mark Tuan (Got7)

Request: Could you write a Mark Tuan Scenario where he starts crushing on the shy short cute girl that works at his local grocery store? I hope this makes sense and I hope you are staying safe and healthy!

Pairing: Idol!Mark Tuan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Covid-19

Words: 4.5k

(A/N: This is kinda all over the place so sorry about that (Also running on 0 hours of sleep for the past two days so the editing is a little sloppy). And I feel like I didn’t really execute the concept too well but this was just one of the plots I came up with that honestly stuck with me

Mark put on the fakest genuine smile he could as the two girls snapped photos, quickly pulling his mask back on as they checked to make sure the pictures came out perfectly. He was prepared to walk away as they said their thanks, bowing politely and even inching further from the area, only to stop with wide eyes.

“Wait, Mark, do you live in this neighborhood? We live just a few blocks away, I can’t believe we haven’t seen you bef-“

“N-no! No, I’m not from the area, I just had to find a fully stocked grocery store is all. Everyone’s been going crazy since the outbreak so-“

“Right!” The girls spoke simultaneously, still not moving away as they discussed how people have been handling Covid-19 so far, Mark staring intently and nodding as if he were listening but, really, he was using all his willpower to not roll his eyes in annoyance.

Mark didn’t hate his fans, he adored them more than anything, but the idea that even during a pandemic they would bother him for photos and autographs, even in a busy and buzzing grocery store, was irritating. He didn’t even want to leave his home that day, but the fact he was running low on toiletries and needed more perishables made the trip essential. But after standing in this one spot for the past ten minutes with a shopping cart filled with food, tissue, and body wash, and two girls that seemed to be in their own world as their topic jumped from Covid to Loona fancams, he was determined to make this his last trip for at least a month.

“But did you see Yves?! She’s so pretty and-“

“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to move from the area and maintain a distance of 2 meters between all of you.” A man said with a cheery voice and smile that could be seen through his mask although it reached his eyes as well.

“Oh! Sorry! Thank you for the photos!” One of them said, dragging her friend along as Mark let out a sigh of relief, the man stepping slightly closer to him but not enough to invade his space.

“You don’t have to leave the area. One of our cashiers said those girls wouldn’t leave you alone and assumed you needed help. Sorry to disturb you.” He said, preparing to walk off before Mark hurried to tap his shoulder.

“Wait, which cashier?” He asked. He was tired of human contact at this point, but really thought they deserved a proper thanking.

“Oh, right there. Her name’s (Y/n).” He said, giving one more smile before finally walking off.

It seems like you had been watching the scene unfold for a while, gaze intense and focused on the male ahead of you and, even as you watched your manager point in your direction, causing him to lock eyes with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Well, not until you saw him walk in your direction with his cart ahead of him.

You didn’t mean to stare at him, it was natural for your eyes to wander to people entering the store, but to see someone this attractive? It felt like you spotted a unicorn. You would glance up occasionally to see if he’d pass by again, watching him going back and forth in the aisles as if he’d been there forever, yet you’ve never seen him before. Maybe it’s because you were working full-time now that you didn’t have to travel so far out to school, or maybe he was just new to the area. You wanted to ask, but how could you just approach someone like him? He was cool and you were…Well, you. He’d probably walk past you like you were some nobody. But once you saw him stop to speak with two girls, you knew you most likely had a chance, but you couldn’t just interrupt their conversation to start your own. So, you waited. And waited. And waited, until so much time had passed you managed to check out three customers with enough groceries per person to feed five villages, but you couldn’t shake off how expressive his eyes were. He was miserable, obviously not in the mood to stand around and chat all day, and if you weren’t going to start a conversation, you could at least help him go back to shopping and getting back home instead of lingering in the virus hotspot you called work. You thought all would be well and done once you alerted your manager, but you didn’t expect the very man you were creeping on to approach you.

You were freaking out, trying to look busy in hopes he’d go away but the sound of his cart only grew louder, a pathetic whine leaving your mouth once you looked back up, putting on the bright smile you typically did as you greeted him, not wanting to seem even more ridiculous than you did.

“H-hello, sir, are you ready to check out?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Mark said, clearing his throat as he began unloading his cart, eyes trained on you although your head was low, gaze focused on the items slowly approaching you on the conveyor belt.

He couldn’t see your face but he knew you were cute, your voice evidence enough of that. You were working fast but just slow enough for him to notice small quirks about you. You mumbled under your breath about how ridiculously priced a bag of rice was, making some joke about how it was probably the cure to every disease since it was so expensive. You weren’t talking to him but he could tell you had a sarcastic nature to you, your jokes making him stifle chuckles to save you from being anymore nervous around him. He didn’t like the awkwardness though, the way you avoid his eyes to continue scanning the candy he threw onto the belt in an attempt to stay in your line for as long as possible without speaking not what he had planned when approaching you. He was naturally timid, but the way you were watching him proved you knew who he was, so he didn’t have to be himself. Right now, he just had to think of you as one of the fangirls you saved him from, and his idol persona could ease the situation immediately.

“I just wanted to thank you for your help. I don’t think I would’ve gotten out of here if you weren’t watching.”

Your eyes snapped up to see his face, a blush creeping onto your own as you tried to find some excuse as to why you were staring before, nothing coming to mind except maybe just being honest, but is telling him you only noticed his distress because he was so gorgeous the right way to go? No, you had to be cool about this, maybe it’ll keep you from turning into a tomato, especially with the way his eyes went from doughy and sweet to sharp and flirtatious.

“W-well, I figured you just wanted to hurry out of here, y’know? No one wants to be out during a pandemic, right?” You giggled and Mark could’ve sworn he was having a heart attack.

He swallowed thickly, eyes scanning your entire being as you finally bagged the final item, pressing total and reading it back to him, your eye smile all he could see. He figured you knew who he was once he took of his mask earlier, but it seemed like you were completely oblivious. He didn’t want another encounter like before but, knowing he could simply pay and leave at this point was comforting, so giving a quick thanks to a potential fan that saved him wasn’t too big of a deal.

“You probably don’t have idols come by a lot, do you?” He asked, watching to see your reaction, only to find your eyes glancing to the side and brows furrow in confusion, deep in thought before gasping out loud.

“Well, not idols, but Son Heung-Min stopped by once and took photos with some of us! He was a lot nicer than he looks!” You joked, Mark nodding in both understanding and confusion.

So you were more of a sports girl? You certainly didn’t look that way. Even from behind the register, he could tell he towered above you by a good 6 or 7 inches, your introverted personality made it hard to believe you’d work well in a team, and you seemed just a bit too young to care more about sports than idol groups. Not that it was anything rare, but almost every girl in your age group knew one or more kpop group, but you managed to name a soccer player that plays six months out of a year instead of a single idol that had promotions almost year round. You treated him as if he wasn’t famous, like any other customer. And he loved it. He didn’t feel the need to repay you by making your heart flutter at the mere presence of his celebrity status, but rather as a human would another human.

Before he could think of such a way to do so, he found himself in your debt once more, your hands filled with ten bags of various items he purchased, placing them neatly into his cart before sighing in relief, giving another smile to him.

“I’m guessing we won’t see you here for a while.” You joked, his lips unable to curve upward in amusement at the statement, knowing he really had no reason to return any time soon, but his curiosity made it impossible for him to accept that.

You were strange to him. Other idols treated him like a celebrity even when they were at the same height of fame, fans treated him like some god, but you? You were instructing him to use the pin pad to complete his transaction like you did any other person to walk through your line. Maybe you didn’t care that he was an idol, maybe you just didn’t know, but to think you were someone he didn’t have to fear when leaving his home, someone he didn’t have to hide from in case they wanted to invade his privacy and risk his health. Ironically, you were the breath of fresh air he couldn’t seem to get in the outside world.

“Yeah, I guess I won’t be seeing you for a while.” He commented, watching you bow politely before diverting your attention to an elderly man slowly unloading his basket, Mark’s body reluctantly heading to the exit as he tried not to stare at you any longer. It really would be a while before he saw you again.

But a while for Mark was only three days. He made the excuse that he forgot to buy kimchi to come back, scanning the store until he spotted you pushing a shopping cart filled with cans, scanning the shelves before grabbing a few to place them into empty slots. He was hoping he could talk to you personally at your register again, but he figured this would do for now.

You didn’t sense him as you hummed an unfamiliar tune, hands busy tidying the two rows of canned corn before moving on to the canned bread, a grimace on your face at the idea of bread in a tin can.

“That sounds gross.” You nearly screamed as Mark’s voice echoed behind you, your body turning to face him as you shrank under his gaze. It wasn’t scary, just very intense despite his eyes being so soft and inviting.

“Oh. How are you today, sir?” You asked, bowing politely as you smiled brightly at him, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tried to keep his face from going bright red, silently praying this interaction goes the way he fantasized in his head the past few days.

“’sir’? I’m surprised my hero doesn’t remember me.” He wanted to hide at how stupid that sounded, suddenly rethinking his entire plan of even showing up here, but the way your eyes grew in size while scanning the floor around you, picking apart your memories to decipher what he meant and who he was, slightly put him at ease once more.

“I-I don’t kno-“

“It’s me.” Mark chuckled, pulling his mask down just enough to give you a warm smile before covering his face once more, a relieved giggle leaving you as you realized it was only him.

“You really had me worried. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” You admitted, turning back and continuing to placing the cans on the shelves behind you, not wanting to slow down on your work.

Mark was anxious, not wanting to lose your attention but not wanting to seem desperate. You were most likely going ask how was his day then move on without another thought, but he didn’t come all the way back here just to have a two minute conversation with you. But that’s really all he needed, just a bit of normalcy in the now upside down world.

“Yeah, I just needed some kimchi. Didn’t realize I was running low.” He chuckled, growing worried as you remained silent, only to see you jumping pathetically to place a can of mackerel onto a higher shelf, your free hand grasping the shelf below it to hoist yourself up, a gasp leaving you as you stumbled backwards, Mark placing his jar onto the floor and catching you by your waist to hold you steady.

Your eyes were wide, flickering up to him as he set you back onto the ground, grabbing the can from you and placing it into its spot.

“How about I help you? I don’t want you to get hurt.” He said, your cheeks burning as your body felt like it was shrinking in on itself, trying to escape the tingles his invisible handprints left on you, your head low as you nodded with a meek ‘thank you’.

You stood at his side as he placed cans onto higher shelves, you working on the lower ones to keep him from feeling like an unpaid worker. It was a bit too quiet for your liking, your eyes glancing at him every once in a while to take in his appearance, hoping you could find something to talk about. He was only wearing black joggers and a white t-shirt, his hair a honey brown shade, the only thing that stood out was the beauty hiding beneath his mask, but you couldn’t start a conversation like that! It’d be too weird! You had to stop overthinking, the answer right in front of you as you noticed the jar of kimchi waiting idly by as he focused on making each row straight.

“Are you sure one jar of kimchi’s gonna be enough for you? I usually finish an entire jar with one meal.” You said, partially lying considering you could finish half a jar before feeling full.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t really eat it all that often but I was craving it today.”

“Oh.”

More silence. You didn’t bother to speak again, feeling as if he didn’t want to talk to you anymore. Maybe it’s because you’re making him do your work, or you’re just boring, that last idea causing you to feel a little embarrassed seeing as he happily came to you with the intentions of talking, only for you to have nothing to say. You wanted to just crawl back to your tiny register and hide at that point.

“You must work a lot.” He commented, your eyes snapping up as his words, body jolting when you realize he had his eyes locked on you.

“I would’ve figured you’d have a few days off since I last saw you, just so you aren’t too overwhelmed.” He added, a dry laugh leaving you as you returned to your work, crouching down to straighten the bowls of instant ramen that were suddenly mixed up and unorganized.

“Well, I could took some days off but if I don’t work, this place would be in chaos with everyone trying to stock up before this virus gets worse. Plus, it keeps me from being bored at home every day.” You admitted, not thinking the conversation would take such an upsetting turn, your mood a bit down as you finally felt weeks’ worth of exhaustion hit you, your words flowing out precariously as he listened carefully.

“I’m honestly really socially awkward, but I value human connection, so I try to stay positive and pretend nothing’s changed but, it’s like I’m always having one-sided conversations with customers. No one has time to talk when they’re busy trying to stay healthy, so I can’t really blame them. But, I was really happy when you talked to me, I finally had an actual conversation again. Talking to you makes it feel like nothing’s changed.” You giggled, finally facing the man above you.

Mark’s eyes were hard with a strange mixture of sadness and understanding. He had his groupmates to talk to, his family and friends as well, but facetime conversations were nothing like being there and present. It was comforting knowing you felt somewhat normal when talking with him, the same way he felt just by seeing you, but it pained him knowing that he could show up any day and you wouldn’t be here, cooped up in your home with nothing but your thoughts, or him staying home while you assisted customers that only acknowledged you when they were ready to pay and leave. He didn’t know why you made him feel this way, not acting on pity but a protective instinct that seemed to gnaw at his very being with every second that passed. You were his new normal as he was yours, and he wanted you to know that.

“You know, I only really came here to see you.” He admitted, slowly lowering himself until he was crouching at your level, your eyes locked on one another’s as he tried find the right words.

“When I met you, I thought you were so weird, but it makes me want to see you even more. And I hope you’re fine with seeing me too.”

“S-seeing you?” Your voice was small, the way you swallowed as you anticipated his next words was visible as he gave you a final glance before fishing his phone from his back pocket, pressing the ‘Create New Contact’ option and handing it to you, your eyes going between the device and his hidden but noticeably kind face.

“Whenever you’re working, let me know so I can at least stop by to keep you company, even if it’s for a few minutes. And, on your days off, we can talk as much as you want, m-maybe go out to any place that’s open.” He didn’t want that last part to sound like a confession, it was way too soon for that, but he was silently praying you took it that way.

It took a second to comprehend the situation, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of you as you slowly took his phone, typing away at both letters and numbers before pressing ‘Done’ at the upper corner. Mark allowed you to slip the phone back into his hand, a smile on his lips at the random string of numbers followed by a name he couldn’t stop thinking about since he met you. He hurriedly sent you a text before placing his phone back into his pocket, holding his hands out once more for you to take as you both slowly stood.

“I should probably get back to work. The cool manager isn’t here today.” You joked, hand cupping his as a silent plea for him to stay, but you knew he couldn’t, that’s what his number was for, right?

“You can always reach me if you need someone to talk to. But, I don’t think I’ll be back for a few days.” He said with a sad tone, your head nodding understandingly although your disappointment was evident.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” He released one of your hands to ruffle your hair, your body shrinking under his touch as you giggled unconsciously.

The air around you seemed thick as you watched him collect his jar of kimchi and head down the aisle and away from you. It felt like an empty promise the way he said he’d be there for you, but you knew you couldn’t keep him there forever. It wasn’t fair.

You sighed, returning to the now empty cart to take it back outside for customers to use, but not before checking your phone. It was always on silent because they weren’t allowed to use it during work, but you never knew what kind of emergency could arise during your shifts. You took a quick peak, expecting nothing important before seeing an unsaved number had texted you, your finger quickly opening it and, at that moment, you couldn’t be happier about the sly lie you were just told.

‘I’ll stop by before the store closes :) -Mark’

Ever since then, Mark kept his word. He was always in the store whenever you told him you’d be working, he would pick you up from work and go to any available restaurant to make sure you’ve eaten, and he always text or called you on your days off to either invite you to hang out or just pass the time in your own homes, separate but together. You were two weeks into the new arrangement and haven’t felt more alive, mainly because the nervousness you felt in the presence of someone so handsome turned into a full blown crush, every interaction sending you into a fit of blushes and giggles. You both were shy but grew to be playful and a lot more flirtatious, Mark’s confidence with every pick-up line causing your once bold behavior to fade into the bashful one he experienced upon your first meeting.

He thought you were cute, he said it all the time. You thought he was cute, you admitted it just a few nights ago once you gathered to courage to explain how you ended up “saving him”. He was smart, kind, always sharing funny stories about his old “roommates” that you couldn’t get enough of. He would sing songs softly as they played from the speakers in his car, his voice soft and angelic just like the smile he adorned, everything about him screaming perfection. You never wanted someone more than you wanted him and, tonight, as you finally settled into the passenger seat of his car after an eight hour shift, his free hand in yours as he steered out of the parking lot, you know he felt the same.

“You’re a lot touchier lately.” You joked, your free hand playing with his fingers as his eyes flickered between you and the road.

“What? You don’t like it?” His lips curled into a smirk, your heart stuttering in your chest.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t think you’d be into awkward cashiers.”

“And how do you know I’m into you?” Luckily there was a red light so that Mark could give you his undivided attention, a wave of contentment washing over him as you looked away, still flustered by his simple acts.

“I don’t know. I guess the same way I knew you were a k-pop idol.”

“So you knew?” He chuckled, giving a quick glance to the light that had yet changed.

“You were really obvious about it. You asked me about it when we first met, you sing like an angel, plus you kept saying ‘your friend BamBam’ and, knowing he’s already pretty famous just for being hilarious, it wasn’t hard to find a simple picture of you two with the rest of your group.” You said smugly, almost as if you decoded a million piece puzzle that no one else dared to touch.

“I’d honestly spend hours daydreaming you weren’t an idol, just because the thought of dating a regular person is easier. But you’ll always be an idol, and daydreaming about dating an idol is no different than actually dating one; you’d never have time together so it’d never really work.” It was such a strange confession, almost as if you were pushing him away but begging to be by his side. Your eyes were low, voice filled with sadness at the realization this was all unreal and all fairytales had to come to an end, but Mark didn’t think it had to.

He didn’t expect to be here with you, not this soon or this fast, but the last few weeks felt like months to him. You were his biggest weakness now, a constant fear that his desire to be with you would cause a slip up. Maybe a tabloid will discover your yet-to-be relationship and expose who you are, maybe some fans will catch on he lives in the area with how often he visits you at work. He was scared by how reckless he was being, yet he didn’t care. For every reckless act he was met with a bright eye smile, a warm hug only for you to scream ‘2 meters apart!’ and launch yourself away from him, and the sound of your giggles. You were the best risk he’s ever taken and he’d be damned if he’d give you up after jumping through so many hoops to get to this moment

You looked at your joined hands, his fingers weaving between yours until they were firmly intertwined, your eyes slowly ascending to his face that held no amusement or playfulness, just sincerity and a sternness that demanded you take in his every word.

“(Y/n/n), I could be a million miles away or right next to you every day and night, and I’d always have time for you. And if I don’t, I’d find a way. I promised you that.” You felt like you could faint with the way his eyes bore into yours, or that you could melt with the way his voice was so gentle yet firm, but you damn near died with the way his face slowly inched closer to yours, heart hammering against your ribcage as you silently applauded yourself for taking off your mask earlier so that nothing would slow him down.

Your eyes fluttered close, waiting for the impact of his lips on yours when a sudden honk brought you back to reality, Mark’s body withdrawing from yours reluctantly before facing forward once more, the green light causing him to immediately step on the gas, both of you hot faced but at ease. Mark might not have gotten his kiss, but he got the confirmation he needed that he wasn’t crazy for feeling the way he did, that it wasn’t a one-side attraction. The weight on his shoulders finally gone as he was free to enjoy the night with no awkwardness, no tension, just you. It truly felt like he could breathe freely again.

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