#unfortunately I already am starting to have less time as summer rolls out but what can we do
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storytellering · 1 month ago
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HIII I JUST SAW YOUR BJD! And wanted to know what doll you got, what body and head? What size is that cutie? I love the big eyes and the faceup you got
AA thank you anon!!! He's a Simply Meant To Be Dohwee! I saw that sculpt going around a couple years ago and I immediately fell in love with it, like from the very second I knew I wanted one to make into a Nero doll 😭 sadly he's currently discontinued, though emailing Obscure_kind (the sculptor) sometimes results them in doing special one off orders! I got mine secondhand, I happened to have a bit of extra money at just the right time someone was selling theirs for a very good price and I just couldn't pass the opportunity haha! He's a tall MSD - around 48cm I believe, and since he's a bit more mature proportioned than most MSDs, clothes can fit him a bit weird - sleeves and pants meant for MSD are just a bit too short, and tops tend to be a bit tight around his chest/shoulder area, but other than that it all fits fine! I get most of his tops in small SD size anyway since I want them oversized lol. And thank you so much on the faceup and eyes! I'm still VERY rusty when it comes to faceups, I do plan on converting two of my older dolls into DV but I'm too intimidated to wipe them and redo their faces since I used to be so good at it and now it's like I'm still re-learning from scratch 😭 but it was my first ever attempt at making eyes and I'm very happy with how they came out! far from perfect but close enough to what I wanted that I'm happy with it unless I decide to try again and have a much better outcome haha.
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nctsworld · 4 years ago
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just let me adore you
✩ jaehyun x reader (ft. mark) | fluff | campfire au | 2.3k → summary: in which the sparks between you and jaehyun burn brighter than the fire in front of you.  → warnings: fluff, flirting, swearing, kissing, wingman!mark whoo let’s get it → rating: teen+
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→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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Laughter atop of wooden logs and wisps of smoke from the recently made fire fly towards the darkening sky on the beach. On the topic of fires, you and your friends are now reminiscing about when Haechan almost set his house on fire on more than one occasion. 
Your face is stuffed in Mark’s shoulder, unable to control your fit of laughter. As you pull away to breathe, you see a familiar group of men walking closer. Your eyes widen in reaction to one in particular.    
“You didn’t tell me Jaehyun was coming,” you spew behind the gritted teeth of your smile, leaning into Mark while having your gaze still locked on the group approaching. 
“Whoops?” Mark shrugs nonchalantly. You punch the imp smile off of your best friend’s face. He mumbles an ow and rubs the tender spot.
“Could’ve at least given me a heads up, you little shit.” 
“Maybe tonight you two will finally—hey, guys!” 
His words are cut off as the group finally arrives at their destination, greeting everyone perched on the logs. 
You may as well have flung yourself into the flames when Jaehyun flashes you a smile and maybe it’s all in your head, but you swear his eyes are fixated on only you.
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Jaehyun and you were in an... odd spot. 
You may have gone to the same university, but the campus was huge, and you only ever really saw each other during large mutual gatherings, like tonight, so it was hard to get to know each other when you were often encircled with your particular clique. 
You two were mutuals on Facebook, but there wasn’t any concrete reason for you two to message each other out of the blue. However, you’d be lying if you said you never opened up the chat, stared at the blank conversation, and spent more time than you’d admit in thinking of a message to muster up. 
Yet, during only the handful of times you’ve been around Jaehyun, you liked being around him. He was sweet, like how he gave you pointers during the get-together at the bowling alley, and Mark has only said good things about him, giving him the seal of a best friend's approval.
Sure, it was a little awkward at times. Small talk was the norm, but neither of you could deny that there was something itching under the surface between you two. Maybe some nurture and care was all that was needed to break the chemistry free.
Or maybe all that was needed was tonight.
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Because the logs near you are already occupied, Jaehyun and the latecomers sit across from you. Jaehyun’s in your direct line of sight with only the fire coming between the two of you.
The night falls as the blaze burns stronger and higher, becoming the only illuminating presence on the beach. Although conversations are all about, everyone’s attention is on it. Flames dance, entangling with each other in freedom. Orange and yellow hues reflect off of every face surrounding the warmth. It’s uncommon to see unconstrained flares like this often, so the rarity adds to the addictive pull of them. 
Everyone’s attention is on the fire, save for two people. 
You prefer listening to others speak and don’t really say much unless elicited, so you spend a lot of your time appreciating the beauty of the things surrounding you—at the rolling ocean waves, up at the stars, or across the wavy haze at the figure before you.
And when you aren’t looking at Jaehyun, you’re unaware of how he’s appreciating the beauty in front of him too. 
Back and forth, neither of you expect to lock eyes, but when it inevitably does, neither of you break away. On the contrary, Jaehyun offers a side smile, which showcases his dimple, and a modest wave. 
Returning his gesture with a giggle and a weak wave back, you then pretend to listen to neighbouring dialogue for a moment. 
Five seconds later, you can’t help it and steal a glimpse of him once more. 
You’re surprised to find him beaming back. 
Even though Mark’s preoccupied with telling the recent story of him winning another watermelon eating contest, he sees you smiling in his peripheral vision. His mouth still runs off, but he turns his head and sees that Jaehyun's the reason behind your smile. Although the eye flirting makes him mentally gag, he fully supports your pursuit if it makes you happy. 
Catching on, your best friend stands up to “stretch his legs” and moves closer to the ones he’s talking to, continuing the anecdote while standing. Not even a minute passes, and it doesn’t take much for Jaehyun to make a break for the empty spot next to you. 
Jaehyun doesn’t sit as close to you like Mark did, respecting your space, but is close enough to have you nervously plucking the fabric of your jeans. 
It starts off with the normal small talk, asking how classes have been and what you’ve been up to lately. Immediately after, silence takes over. 
Now that he’s in close proximity, looking at him feels like a sin. Nevertheless, you still commit the crime, stealing little glances at him throughout the bustling chatter and crisp crackling. 
Feeling overwhelmed by the silence, you grasp onto more small talk, which unfortunately soon reduces to you just rambling. Throughout it all, Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod and listens intently, leaning closer to you with his forearms on his thighs to capture everything that you’re saying. 
When you take a breather, he finally speaks up.  
“Although I love to hear you talk,” his voice is low and gentle, sending a small shiver down your spine. “And by all means, you can keep talking, but don’t feel pressured to fill the silence.” 
He pauses for a beat, and you peer over to view him lowering his head. 
He’s rubbing one thumb over his other, and the friction only makes his palms sweat more. Tingles reach Jaehyun’s ears, and he ponders if you notice it under the dim glow. 
“You don’t have to say anything at all; I always like just being around you, even if we aren’t talking.” 
The cool air blows, calming you along with his words. A shy grin spreads across your face. Feeling more at ease, you shift towards him, closing the empty space between you on the log and letting your leg lean onto his. Jaehyun’s focus trails from your leg to your face, and he dives deeper into your perfection with another of his famous, sweet dimpled smiles. 
Despite Jaehyun’s reassurance, you two slowly start to converse with less tension. Through the night, you get to know each other bit by bit, unravelling each other’s life stories, yet simultaneously writing a new chapter, intertwining the lines of your lives together.  
Additionally, you begin to melt for Jaehyun’s jokes. This is a first, to hear him joking around like this, but you soon find yourself laughing into his shoulder like you did with Mark not long ago.
And Jaehyun adores how you click with his humour, but he adores your laugh even more. 
Someone remembers that they brought snacks in their bag, and fast enough, marshmallows are being passed around. Jaehyun, along with a few others, hunt along the beach and come back with stray sticks for the sweet treats. 
As you two roast marshmallows, you’re sitting in comfortable silence, exchanging glances every so often. Suddenly, he lays a hand on yours, pulling it back along with the stick.  
“Careful,” he warns softly into your ear. “You don’t want a burnt marshmallow.”
Your breathing hitches, thinking about the only other time Jaehyun touched you.
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It was during Johnny’s birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant. You were in the midst of devouring your food when your hair got in the way (out of all the days you forgot a hair tie, it had to be today). Failed attempts transpired at moving it; you blew, you shook your head, you rubbed the loose strands against your upper arm sleeve...
“May I?” 
His delicate inquiry made you freeze. Jaehyun already finished his food and offered his clean hands to fix your dilemma. You were so dedicated to finishing your meal that you forgot that he was right next to you, probably thinking you were a hot mess.  
Regardless, you nodded. You gulped as he daintily tucked the strands of your hair behind your ears. His touch was so brief, so simple. He barely ghosted over your skin, and the moment fleeted as fast as the way your hair ran through his fingertips. 
So if his touch was so simple, why was your heart bursting at the seams? 
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Your heart thumps against your chest just the same now as it did then. Maybe even more, since you turn to face him and he’s so close, you feel his warm breath against your face. Your gaze slowly wanders to his lips. Subconsciously, he licks them, and you catch him staring at yours too. Your mind’s drawing blanks, while your body takes control. Both of you draw your bodies nearer and nearer until someone hollers—
“Dude, your marshmallow’s burnt!” 
Both of you stop in your tracks and whip your heads towards the fire, realizing it’s Jaehyun’s marshmallow that the person is referring to. Hastily, he pulls it away, blows the flames off, and stares at the charred piece with a pout. 
“Well, I guess you like burnt marshmallows though, huh?” 
Jaehyun turns to you again, watching you chew your marshmallow with a smug expression. Shaking his head, he runs his tongue along his bottom teeth.
“Hey, for the record, I saved your marshmallow from being burnt.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure,” you hum, still chewing, then getting up. “I’ll go get us some more marshmallows. Maybe extra for you, in case you burn more.” 
He clutches his chest in jest at your quip and watches the way you saunter over to the bag, his eyes full of hearts, yet regret courses his veins over how the moment was ruined. 
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It’s past 1 AM, and the combination of the summer air and ocean waves pack a bite that urges you to go home. You’re both standing near the fire, waving at others who are leaving, when you begin to say you your good-bye.
“I should also get going.” Your hands are in your pockets, feet kicking at the sand. 
“Is Mark your ride home?” You nod in reply and open your mouth, ready to tell him how nice the night went with him. 
“Can I…” he abruptly cuts in before inhaling sharply. “I was wondering if you’d let me drive you home?” 
Your jaw drops at the suggestion, causing his expression to change instantly. “Unless you’d prefer Mark to, I totally understand.” 
Obviously, you accept without hesitance, and run off to Mark to inform him of the change of plans. After hugging him and saying your good-byes, Mark whispers, “Don’t stay out too late.” Then, he gives you a wink before you run to your driver for the night, walking side by side with him back to his car. 
Because it’s late and you’re both a little tired, the ride home is quiet, albeit for Jaehyun’s music playing in the background and when you begin to speak up to give directions on how to get to your place. Rolling up in front of your home, he turns the ignition off, but leaves the music still on. 
“I had a great time with you tonight,” he says with a hand still on the steering wheel. 
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you nod, “Me too.” 
Anticipation lingers in the air for a while prior to Jaehyun cutting it with a question you’ve been dying to hear. 
“Are you free next weekend?” 
You press your lips together, trying to hide a smile back. 
“Only if you are.” 
He laughs with a shake of his head, amused at your playfulness. He can definitely get used to this. 
“I’ll message you when I get home and we can work out the details soon.” 
“Sounds good,” you sway a bit in your seat whilst holding in your excitement. “Well, good night, Jaehyun.” 
Your fingers are on the door handle, but you aren’t quite curling them around it.
“Good night,” he says your name in a hush and you look back at him. The two of you match eye contact and get lost in the gleam of each other’s starry eyes. 
You’re unsure who made the first move, but it doesn’t matter because his kiss scorches you, melting you into putty. As you think you’re about to fall apart between blissful sighs, Jaehyun catches you with each caress, holding you together by your cheeks and the nape of your neck.    
Breaking away for air, you lay your forehead against his, panting, “Wow.” 
“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I burned my marshmallow.” 
No coherent thoughts are running through your mind, except your yearning for the man in front of you. All you want is him and his touch on your skin again, so you agree with his sentiment by diving in again without warning. 
It takes much strength for you to finally depart from each other’s embrace for the night, but when you do, Jaehyun plants a kiss on the back of your hand and wishes you sweet dreams. 
Exhausted and in disbelief over tonight’s events, you quickly change out of your clothes and tuck yourself into bed. Unfortunately, sleep is near impossible because your mind replays everything over and over.
Suddenly, your phone lights up, notifying you of a new message. 
Little did you know you’d stay up messaging the man on the other end until the sun rose. 
Next weekend really couldn’t come fast enough.
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infernal-fire · 4 years ago
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Love, At First Sight
Warnings: some extreme fluff, strong language/ swearing
Pairing(s): Ransom x you
Summary: Love, at first sight, doesn’t exist. And Ransom has never been proven otherwise.
Word Count: 1600
I was inspired to write this after reading “It Was Only A Kiss” by the Queen of fluff, smut, angst and everything in between: @navybrat817  :)
(This GIF does not belong to me)
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Love at first sight. 
That is the most ridiculous thing Ransom had ever heard. And he has heard some bullshit. 
The only thing he could tell from looking at someone for the first time was whether they were of any use to him or not. So when Meg was rambling on about love, that too, at first sight, Ransom scoffed at the idea. He bit into his overpriced biscuit with a roll of his eyes, pausing the conversation that he was unwilling to entertain any longer. 
“You know what Ransom, I’m not surprised you’re dismissing the idea without even hearing it,” Meg challenged.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” he retorted, a bit amused by her slight outburst.
“If your parents bothered with you, maybe you would understand what it’s like to be loved by someone.”
Although he didn’t show it, it struck a chord in him. It wasn’t something he dared to complain about anymore, but there was a time he would have done anything for their affection. 
“Okay then, let’s hear this horseshit you’re spewing,” he replied, not breaking the façade of smugness.
“When you meet someone, your subconscious and unconscious mind pick up patterns in their behaviour, little mannerisms and anything it can get its hands on. Your conscious mind interprets that as vibes. So you get a bad vibe from someone, it’s ‘cause your mind recognizes it from somewhere else, someone you don’t like.” 
“And what does this have to do with love at first sight?” Ransom impatiently tapped his foot. 
“I have a theory that love, at first sight, is possible if you’re in tune with your intuition. You feel good vibes from someone, you ride with it. And there’s a possibility you’ll override the rational part of your brain that tells you that you can’t love someone right after meeting them,” she concluded. “But then again, this only works if you’re capable of loving someone. Otherwise, your brain has no one to reference,” she added. 
Ransom’s jaw clenched before he took in a breath.
“Like I said. Just a bunch of horseshit,” he said, getting up to leave. 
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He called it horseshit but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It irked him that no matter how many girls he pulled, not one of them could make him feel the love had Meg described. He concluded that he was incapable of love because, of course,  that was the only plausible explanation.
It was a friend’s birthday. To say the least, he was not looking forward to it. He was in a rare mood to stay home and call it a night instead of getting his dick wet. Unfortunately, his presence was promised - he would rather not hear about this later so he did his future self a favour and got ready. 
His black pants were paired with a maroon sweater that cost a little less than his king-sized bed. A rose-gold watch adorned his wrist and he threw on his signature tan coloured coat. He didn’t want to go but he that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to advertise his status. 
Walking into the party, he regretted his decision to come at all. The corners were brimming with drunk people, though it had been only 1 hour since the party started. Shrill and irritating voices rung through the air. As usual, girls of no substance clung to every word of the fabricated tales boys told. Despite this, the unsavoury circumstances invited him, called his name even. After all, this was the lifestyle he lived for. 
Taking in the scene before him, he strode down the room. His presence alone demanded respect and attention, both which he got a surplus of at these events.
His stride was abruptly halted when a figure crashed into him, spilling wine down his chest. Sure, it blended in with the sweater, but he was still pissed. Someone didn’t notice him, which caused them to bump into him and that rubbed him the wrong way. 
“Won’t you look where your going, for god fucking sake this is worth more than you,” he snapped at the unsuspecting girl. 
You had a mess of your own to take care of. Wine slipped down your dress, between your cleavage and onto your stomach. You were going to apologize but you heard his comment, paused your sentence to look up at him. 
Laughter echoed in the background and people called Ransom’s name but it was long forgotten when he saw you. 
Love, at first sight.
It didn’t seem so ridiculous anymore. 
The mere sight of you was a harsh contrast to the cruel world he has dealt with his entire life. It was like the universe wrapped and presented you as the embodiment of a second chance for his life. To think that love, at first sight, was ridiculous. 
Your beauty wasn’t something he understood. It wasn’t like the beauty he sought during the lonely hours of night, when he simply required a bedwarmer to ease the ache. It was memorable, almost like a blend of warm vibrancy; a feeling resembling that of the summer’s sun, kissed his skin ever so delicately. 
He thought he was dying for a second. His hands were tingly and would not ease up no matter how much he clenched and unclenched them. His heart dove straight to his stomach, refusing to come up for air as long as he continued to look at you.
You on the other hand, you were conflicted. You were going to give him a piece of your mind for talking to you like that but one look at him and you wanted to run away. It was too intense for you. 
His piercing stare mirrored the moon, melted and poured into the mould that he called eyes. His aura radiated coldness. Yet, you just knew that his hands would be as warm as a bonfire during a snowstorm. Being around him would be like the slight sting that you felt when winter’s breeze grazed your skin. That sting, no matter how painful, is rewarding when you consider his arms that would envelope you as a blanket. 
Momentarily looking into each others eyes, both of you knew. You just knew. You were both thinking the same thing. It felt like eons had passed since the wine spill but logically, you knew it had only been seconds.
“Don’t talk to me like that” you finally blurted. No matter how enamored you were with him, you needed to knock him down a few pegs. 
“I-I… I’m” 
“You’re?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stuttered. He felt like he would never recover from this embarrassment. 
“I-uhm. It’s okay. I just…” you trailed off, realizing you weren’t even sure what to say. 
“Can we get out of here?” he piped up. 
It took you by surprise because you were thinking the same thing. You considered it too bold a thing to say but here he was. 
You held his wrist and led him out. As soon as you marched out the door, he pulled his arm up, and you assumed he was going to take it out of your grasp. He surprised you though, instead, holding your hand. 
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The dress and the sweater became irrelevant; all either of you could focus on was the warm grip you both had on each other’s hands as you strolled through the overly extravagant neighbourhood. 
Part of your mind was screaming at yourself, as was his. He could kill you, you thought. Or do worse. And here you are, walking with a complete stranger through a neighbourhood you don’t even know.
“I thought you felt it too,” he confessed. “That’s why I... really, I don’t ever do this.” 
The old Ransom would have said ‘I know you felt it too.’ It hadn’t been ten minutes since you met him and you were already changing him. 
“I've never done this either. I mean frankly, you could be a murderer and here I am, holding you hand,” you joked. 
“I’m not a murderer,” he chuckled, “But I can’t help but feel a little weird about this.” You looked up at the moon-less night, convinced that it wasn’t a coincidence.
“I know… I-... I don’t even know your name,” you giggled and his heart fluttered around his chest. He couldn’t compare the feeling to butterflies - it was more like hummingbirds, refusing to settle.
“I felt something and it’s weird ‘cause I was so scared. I was scared and overwhelmed by this sort of dread. Dread that was like, what if you didn’t feel the same way?” you rambled, only slightly cautiously. You knew nothing of this man, and you were laying out how you felt in the open?
“My name is Ransom,” he stopped the stroll and faced you, picking up your other arm. 
“Y/N” you meekly responded, having difficulty meeting his eyes. You had never felt such a burn in your cheeks, yet right now, you felt like your face was on fire. 
“Hey, hey” he softly tilted you chin up. “Can we run with this? Whatever this is?” He would get on his knees and plead if he had to. Because you were right; he felt like he would die if you didn’t feel the same way. 
“Please. Let’s run with this. Whatever this is, let’s just run with it,” you agreed and nodded lightly, not breaking out of the stare.
“What is this?” he uttered under his breath and rested his forehead onto yours. 
You closed your eyes and breathed in the same air as him. His warmth and scent reminded you of sugar cookies and pine trees. 
He took in a breath and felt the aroma of vanilla and fresh roses evade his senses.
“I don’t know. But I like it,” you breathed. 
He cupped your face and pulled away to look at your face again. He planted a delicate but firm kiss to your forehead as you encased his waist with your arms, naturally gravitating towards him. He tenderly held your face as he pulled away. One look and you were a goner, but now, you’re utterly floored by the mere thought of him. 
Love, that too, at first sight.
Wasn’t horseshit after all.
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1heartfanfics · 3 years ago
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Drunk boyfriend
So we were hanging out and drinking with a group of friends from work. One of the guys brought his beer bong, so him and Carter both chugged a four locos, which is like actual trash alcohol for those of you who don't know. They're 14% alc and taste like battery acid.
The other guy immediately bent over and puked but Carter held his down. He sat down next to me with a hand on his stomach. "I feel like my insides are on fire," he said.
"I can't imagine why," I joked, nudging him with my shoulder a little. I was worried about him but I knew better than to ask him if he was okay in front of everyone.
"Dude that fucking killed me," the other guy, Devon, said once he finished throwing up.
Carter pressed his fist into his stomach, forcing up a loud burp. "Dude yeah I feel like I have a lead ball in my stomach," he agreed.
They both continued drinking immediately though. Devon started in on one of the beers he bought while Carter opened a twisted tea, which I'd already drank one of.
After a few sips though, he handed it to me. "Want some?" he asked.
I nodded, taking it from him and taking a sip. What he meant was that he needed a break but didn't want to say it out loud. I ended up finishing it for him, although not long after him and Devon bonged a beer each.
Now, Carter's a pretty big guy, although he's thin, so he can hold his alcohol pretty well. He can drink a lot and be okay. But he doesn't usually drink fast, and he doesn't usually drink beer. So that kinda did him in.
After that, he was drunk, I could tell. He's the kind of person who's usually still pretty functional even when he'd drunk. He can usually walk and talk mostly normally. But he was drunk. He was talking silly and stumbling around.
I was somewhere between drunk and tipsy after the next drink I had. I was also a little bit high after taking a few hits from my friend's vape.
That was when everyone decided that we should play kickball in the parking lot even though it was 1 am and raining. So we played kickball for about an hour. Or tried to anyway. When everyone's drunk and/or stoned it's a little difficult lol.
By the time we finished the game, everyone was exhausted and sweating our asses off, so we decided to call it a night and head home. Carter and I both lived close and had walked there, so after saying bye to everyone we started walking.
We didn't make it very far though before Carter grabbed my arm and tugged on it a little. When I turned to look at him he was slightly bent over, looking sweaty and pale in the light from the street lamp.
"Can we sit for a sec?" he asked, sounding out of breath.
"Yeah, of course," I said, leading him over to the grass next to the sidewalk. He immediately laid down, pulling me down with him. So we just laid in the grass for a minute.
"Spinny," he said, "I'm so drunk."
"Yeah I know, do you want to stay at my place tonight?" I asked. He has a habit of getting panicky when he's too drunk.
"Mmmhmm," he agreed, rolling over to press his face into my shoulder.
"Ready to get going?" I asked after a minute.
"Ughhhh yeah," he huffed, sitting up and flopping forward.
"Come on drunky," I said, standing up and holding my hands out to help him up.
We made it about halfway to my apartment that time before he stopped me again. This time when I turned to look at him I could tell he was very not okay. He was looking pretty sickly.
"I need to sit down," he said.
"Okay, come here," I grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a bench that was near the sidewalk.
As soon as we sat down he leaned over, dropping his head into his hands. I put my hand on his back, rubbing up and down.
"I feel sick,"
"Yeah I know, I'm sorry," I said sympathetically. I've definitely been there, a lot more times than he has.
"Oh god," he cut himself off with a gag, "I'm gonna throw up."
"Hey, you're okay, I'm right here," I said softly, scooting a little closer and wrapping my arm around him.
He dry heaved over the ground for a few minutes but didn't actually bring anything up. Once he was able to breath normally again he slumped against my side, burying his face in my shoulder.
"Alright, let's try walking again okay? We need to get you in bed," I said, trailing my fingers up and down his back and leaning my head against his.
"Hnnggg mmkay," he slurred, sounding more drunk by the minute. I wrapped my arm around his waist and stood up, pulling him with me. I picked up his phone and his keys from where he'd left them on the bench, stuffing them into my purse with my own stuff.
"Come on, I've got you," I said, keeping my arm around him, my hand resting on his hip.
"I dn't feel s'good Summer" he groaned, leaning against my side.
"I know, we'll take it slow I promise," I said, doing my best to support his weight as he leaned more and more of it against me.
"I can't dothis," he slurred, feet dragging on the concrete as he slowed.
"We're almost there Carter. You'll feel much better once you're laying down in bed," I pressed my hand against his back, urging him forward.
By the time we made it to my apartment he was practically in tears and had most of his body weight leaning on me. I unlocked my door and dragged him inside and onto my bed.
“Just relax okay? I’ll be right back,” I said, squeezing his hip before heading into the kitchen. I got us some water and grabbed a trash can then walked back to my room.
“Summer I feel sick,” he said as soon as I sat down on the bed.
“Sit up and take a drink for me, it might help,” I said.
He whined and thrashed around a bit but slowly maneuvered himself up into a sitting position. He took the glass from me, spilling some of it on both of us in the process, but he managed to take a few sips. I drank a bit myself, then took both cups and set them on my nightstand.
“Alright, now lay down with me,” I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and pulling him down with me. He curled up to my side, laying his head on my chest and draping an arm over me. After a moment he pressed himself even closer, tightening his arm around me and tucking his hand under my shoulder. I brought my hand up to rest on the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair.
"Shh, you're okay, this feeling will pass," I said quietly, leaning my head against his.
"M'nauseous," he moaned, squirming in discomfort.
"Just try to breathe through it," I said, "but there's a trash can on the floor beside the bed if you need to be sick," I added.
"Don't wanna-" he cut himself off with a burp, which he muffled into my shirt.
"I know, hopefully you won't have to," I said.
He almost never gets sick from drinking. Even when he drinks way too much he's usually able to hold it down. In fact I think the only time i've ever seen him throw up from drinking he ended up actually being sick.
Unfortunately however, that was not the case. A couple of minutes later he burped again, long and low, then groaned under his breath. He rolled off of me and pushed himself up, swaying as he tried to sit.
"Hey.." I sat up too, moving to sit slightly behind him, one hand resting on his back, waiting for what we both knew was going to happen.
He took a slow, forced breath, sounding shaky. I scooted closer, looping an arm around his chest to help steady him as he leaned over the side of the bed.
"You're okay, just keep breathing. I've got you," I said softly.
He pitched forward and coughed, which morphed into a dry heave. After a gasping breath in his body convulsed again, this time bringing up a wave of alcohol into the trash can on my floor. He moaned, slumping forward with another wave.
I moved to sit behind him, with one leg on either side, so I could wrap both of my arms around him and make sure he didn't fall off the bed. I could feel him shaking as I pressed myself up against his back.
"Easy, Carter, you're doing great, it'll be over soon," I told him.
After coughing up one more mouthful of puke and belching queasily he seemed to be done. I pulled him back away from the edge of the bed to rest against my chest. He leaned against me limply, head lolling to lay back on my shoulder. I turned and pressed a kiss to his forehead, wrapping him up in my arms and rocking him a little bit.
"Think you're done?" I asked after a minute.
"Hmm," he answered noncommittally.
"You want to try another sip of water? Get the taste out of your mouth?" I asked.
He groaned out an answer that I'm pretty sure meant no, but I reached to grab the glass anyway, pressing it into his hand.
"Just a little sip, please," I urged him.
He accepted the glass with shaky hands, bringing it hesitantly up to his lips to take a small drink. I took it back from him and set it down, wrapping my arms around him again.
"How are you feeling now?" I asked.
"Drunk."
"Spinning still?"
"Yeah kind of," he sighed. He wasn't slurring his words anymore at least so he was probably coming down now that he got some of it out of his system.
"How's your stomach?" I asked.
"Still sick," he shrugged, "Less nauseous though I think."
"Okay, well that's good at least. Do you think you could try to fall asleep? I'll put something on TV and we can stay up as long as you need to but it would be good to try and sleep this off," I suggested.
He rolled over onto his side, facing away from me, but scooted back until he was pressed up against my front. I snaked my arm over his waist and he grabbed my hand, moving it to rest over his stomach.
"Will you stay like this?" he asked sleepily.
"Of course, I've got you," I whispered, leaning over him slightly to kiss his cheek before laying back down.
He squirmed around for a little bit but was able to fall asleep pretty fast. The next morning however he did not feel good either...
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skadventuretime · 3 years ago
Text
Golden Hour
Here is my piece for the @noragamibigbang! My artist partner @shinkimiope had such a lovely idea and art to match, so naturally I had to get all sentimental on it. I hope you enjoy!
A midi alarm rang out from a phone on the coffee table. It was perched so delicately on the corner, crowded out as it was by large textbooks and notebook viscera, that it was just a few rings from falling off the table altogether.
Hiyori burst from the bathroom with a toothbrush in one hand and her falling towel in the other. Flecks of toothpaste dotted her lips and her hair was only partly brushed, the half that wasn’t dripping water onto her living room floor. She stuck the toothbrush in her mouth to use that hand to catch her phone as it wobbled off the coffee table.
How is it three already? She turned a frantic eye to the microwave clock as if hoping it would give her a better time, but unfortunately, she was still going to be late.
Helping that study group last night was a bad idea.
Groaning, she hurried to a cabinet placed against the wall in her living room. It was more of a covered shelf, really, made of mismatched driftwood that's been carefully sanded and polished with something that made it glimmer like sunlight on the sea. On the sole high shelf was a shrine, just as carefully made, just as lovingly looked after. Not a speck of dust touched any part of it.
[Read the rest on AO3 or below the cut]
Hiyori clapped her hands together and focused on the shrine's god. Yato, I'm going to be late. Feel free to start setting up without me!
A faint breeze stirred her towel, as if a door had been left open and a summer wind had blown in.
I hear you loud and clear, Yato's voice answered distantly. His scent washed over her, wild and ancient and warm, and she could sense he was smiling through their temporary connection. I can carry things if you've brought too much. 
Hiyori exhales around her toothbrush. That’s okay, I’ll be fine. I just lost track of time.
You don’t need to get dressed up on my account.
Yato’s mental voice was teasing, gentle, but it still raised a blush to her face that made her glad he wasn’t there in person. It’s nothing like that, school work just kept me up. See you in twenty?
The wind brushed the back of her neck. See you then.
His presence faded away and so did the breeze. The air around the shrine seemed charged and clean, the space sanctified in the short time of their conversation. It was a testament to how much Yato's power as a god of fortune had grown and how many more people believed in him. She ran her finger over the familiar corner of the shrine one more time before stepping away to finish getting dressed. 
She put her hair up in a towel and returned her toothbrush to her bathroom cup before going to the closet. There, she grabbed a simple blouse and skirt and put them on. She added a pair of earrings gifted from Yukine, a bracelet from Daikoku (because he didn’t trust Kofuku to gift her something that wouldn’t cause misfortune), and a purse from Bishamon that was too practical to have been selected without Kazuma’s input. They all glittered in a vague, dreamlike way that anything loved by the gods does, at least to Hiyori’s half-ayakashi eyes. They were holy, and by extension, so was she.
“Late, late, late,” she muttered, scooping up the bento boxes she’d made the night before and heading out the door.
///
The sun felt great upon her skin for the approximately three seconds she was able to feel it before Yato slammed a floppy, wide brimmed hat over her head. "Yato," Hiyori spluttered, raising the brim of the hat so she could see again. "What are you doing?"
"You'll get sunburnt if you don't wear sun protection," he fretted, gesturing to a large parasol set up to shade a blanket laid out on the ground next to Suzuha's tree. "Come on, I'll unpack everything when we get there."
Hiyori hid a smile as she took the hat off. After all this time, Yato still liked to fuss over her. She set her basket down on the blanket and took a moment to listen to the wind sighing through the trees. She never knew Suzuha personally, but she liked to think she knew him a little by the way Yukine would smile when he talked about him, or through the way Yukine took such good care of plants in his stead. Hiyori turned to bring Yato into her thoughts when she caught him staring at her, causing the bottom to drop out of her stomach. Even now, his eyes could make her wonder if this is what it was like to be worshipped.
He spoke first. "Do you want anything to drink?" He pointed to a cooler beaded with condensation. "There's also tea, for later."
"I'm set for now." At his drooping shoulders, she amended, "Fine, I’ll have some tea."
He perked up immediately. "I have it steeping in Tamagahara, I'll be right back!" He blinked out of sight and back within the span of a breath. "Easier to keep hot there," he explained as he gently laid the tray on the blanket.
Fragrant green tea steamed in the cool air. Yato set out small, round mugs and poured her a cup. It was a delicate porcelain, something that sparkled with that same otherworldliness as her other gifts from gods.
Their fingers brushed as he passed it to her, and her heart stuttered. Yato didn’t seem to notice.
“So what’s new with you, Hiyori?” His eyes shone with excitement and curiosity, but there was something else there, too, an over-brightness like when you stub your toe and don’t want your friends to know how much something so small really hurt you. 
She took a small sip of tea to gather her thoughts. The last time she’d seen Yato in person was a little over a year and a half ago, although she’d spoken to him more frequently than that. When he’d first talked to her through the shrine, Hiyori had nearly punched a hole in the wall out of surprise, but it did allow them to speak every now and then. 
“I already told you about the apartment,” she began, grimacing at the memory of how long it took to convince her family and friends she’d be fine living without a roommate. 
“Yeah, it looks great!”
She froze. “You haven’t been in it yet.”
He looked a little abashed. “Well, you see, when we talk through the shrine, I can sort of, you know.” He waved his hand in a nervous flutter. “See through you, a little. Not actual sight, but more like impressions.” He closed his eyes, and his voice got quieter like he was recalling a special memory. “You get good sunlight there, and the air is clean, and you feel safe, right?”
Hiyori took a larger and no less scalding sip of tea. So that divine presence she felt every time she prayed was really..?
“Right, okay, yes. It’s a lovely apartment, Ame helped me move in and Yukine came to set up the furniture.” She smiled at the memory, at how stubbornly Yukine had insisted he could figure out the instructions on his own and how he tried to hide his excitement when she gave him a cheering chibi sticker for his trouble. 
“And school’s been going well?” 
“As well as it could be. If it isn’t exams I’m studying for, it’s practicals, and I’ve been up late most nights to make time for it all.” 
Yato raised a hand as though he wanted to touch her face and then thought better of it. “You have dark circles under your eyes.”
“Staying top of the class won’t happen by getting enough sleep,” Hiyori replied, mostly in jest.
Yato caught her smile and leaned a little closer, close enough that the smell of him wrapped around her like a familiar jacket. “You know what might help? Praying to me for good grades.” His eyes were sparkling with mischief.
“You haven’t told me you’re trying to put Tenjin out of work,” Hiyori laughed. 
“Oh yes, I’m cornering his market now.” Yato stood up and did something to his tracksuit to make it flourish like a cape. “Soon even Ebisu will be having to contend with my horde of worshippers.” 
An image of Yato in the middle of a swarming crowd of adoring businessmen was enough to make her snort the sip of tea she was sipping right out of her nose, which of course set Yato off, and before she knew it she was wheezing into her empty cup, eyes streaming and hand dripping from the tea that had splashed out. 
“All right, so I’m not the best with school or studies,” Yato said when he finally caught his breath. “I have learned something over the last few years, though.”
“Oh?” 
“How to help stubborn humans relax.”
Hiyori rolled her eyes. “Does it involve a trip to Capypa Land? Because as much fun as it is to watch you whimper over Capypas, I really need to—“
“No Capypa Land this time,” Yato cut in hastily. “Even though it would be a happypa trip for the whole family,” he muttered. “Yukine made ice cream and demanded that I share some with you. I also have a patented relaxation technique that will have you feeling better in no time!”
“Is that so,” Hiyori said, a smile melting over her lips. “Do I get a refund if it’s not to my liking?”
Yato had begun rummaging through a small cooler during this exchange and looked up to say, grinning, “I’ve never had an unsatisfied customer.”
It was all so easy, the banter, the laughter, the aching muscles in her face. No matter how often Hiyori got to see Yato, each visit felt like coming home.
“So what flavor did Yukine make?” she asked, peering over Yato’s shoulder as he opened up a few containers.
“Salted dark chocolate with optional caramel drizzle.” He put two scoops into a bowl and held up the caramel. “Would you like some?”
“Please,” Hiyori said, delighted. “I didn’t know Yukine took up cooking now, too!”
Yato smiled fondly. “One of Bishamon’s shinki offered to teach him after he was skulking around the kitchens one day. Picked up on it pretty fast, too.” He placed a spoon in the bowl and handed it to her, then put a few scoops in a bowl for himself with a judicious ladle of caramel sauce.
“Ready?” he asked Hiyori, holding up a spoonful of ice cream doused in sauce.
“Ready.” Her own spoon was carefully loaded with just a touch of caramel so she could enjoy the ice cream’s original flavor.
Yato touched their spoons together in a toast before taking his bite, and Hiyori paused to watch his reaction. It had been so long since she had gotten to experience anything new with him; part of her ached to witness every moment.
“It’s good?” she asked, watching his lips curve up around the spoon.
“That kid really goes all the way when he learns something new,” Yato said appreciatively. “Who knew tree care would turn into fixing electronics and now cooking.”
“He applies himself well.”
“You helped him get started,” Yato said around another mouthful of ice cream. “He still talks about how great it was when you tutored him.”
Hiyori hummed. “It was great to teach him. He’s a wonderful soul, he just needed a place to focus his mind.”
Yato popped a spoonful of pure caramel into his mouth. “That reminds me, how was that other wonderful soul of yours doing?”
Hiyori stiffened. “We haven’t seen each other in months. He was so...so...distasteful!” 
A dangerous gleam appeared in Yato’s eyes. “How distasteful?”
“Ami just needs to stop setting me up with people she meets at house parties,” Hiyori said. “She means well, but doesn’t have the best taste in men.”
“You’re very lucky I’m here, then, with my patented relaxation technique,” Yato said, putting down his empty bowl and scooting closer. 
“Relaxation technique?” she repeated, eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t the ice cream the relaxation?”
“Just sit back and relax! Tell me more about what happened with the worthless scum.” He knelt behind her and swept her hair off her shoulder. Goosebumps peppered her skin where he brushed it.
“So, you were saying?” he prompted, hands resting on her shoulders. The weight of them was reassuring.
“It was nothing,” she began, breath catching when he began to knead the muscles around her neck. “He brought me to a dive bar and tried to make me do shots with him, and then when it was pouring rain when I finally convinced him to leave, he told me to run with him five blocks so the rideshare would be cheaper.”
Yato’s hands paused. “Any chance I can get his name?”
“Yato, no,” Hiyori chided as he continued her massage. “You’ve been so good about not terrorizing people who’ve been minor inconveniences to me, I’d hate to see you ruin your record.” She was distracted; he was working away knots she hadn’t known she’d had. Maybe she really should look into moving her study sessions earlier so she’d stop falling asleep on her desk...
“It sounds like this one would be worth it,” he muttered, digging into her shoulders a little too roughly. 
“What about you? How has it been, being a god of fortune?” Hiyori asked after a few minutes of letting him drain the tension from her neck and shoulders.
His hands slipped away. “It’s been different,” he said, standing up and offering her a hand. “I think I’ve been so used to being on my own that being part of a group is strange.”
“Have there been problems with your neighbors again?” Hiyori asked. The last she’d heard, there had been a minor incident involving Takemikazuchi and an entire square kilometer of Tamagahara that had been leveled in his anger.
Yato started walking towards the cherry blossom tree. “No, I think that was his way of welcoming me. I thought that once I got what I wanted, everything would feel right.”
“And it doesn’t?” It had been so long since Yato opened up to her like this, showed up on a windowsill late at night and talked about what was on his mind. A warm feeling crept through her chest.
“No,” he said plainly, passing the wide trunk that showed the marks of Yukine’s care over the years. “Something is missing.”
She joined him under the boughs and inhaled. Fresh, clean, something a little like hope.
“I thought having more worshippers would make me happy,” he began, fingers trailing through some low hanging blossoms. “And they do, but it’s not what I thought it’d be.” 
“Oh?” 
“It’s lonelier than I imagined. Busier too; you have no idea how many people want to see me just to talk or vent. I always thought— well.” 
Yato paused by a string of cherry blossoms, running his fingers through the petals as if they were a lover’s hair. “I always thought it’d be like having more people like you around. People who understood me.” He pinched off a strand and held it close to his chest, hesitant, before offering it to her. “But deep down I knew you were one-of-a-kind.”
Hiyori marveled at the soft translucence of the petals in his hand, the faint otherworldly shine they seemed to have in his divine presence. It was like an ayakashi miasma in reverse, a bubble of light and goodness, and she watched it travel up her arm and float her hair up on an invisible wind when she accepted the flowers.
“How long have you had this effect?” Hiyori said, turning her hand from side to side and admiring the richer colors and heady scent.
“Effect?” Yato murmured, eyes on the blossoms in her hand.
“The way everything sort of glows around you.”
He blinked at this and looked at the ground. “It’s sort of complicated.”
This sharpened her interest. “Complicated how? Did you have to perform some ritual? Does it only happen to gods with hafuri? Is it because you’re more popular these days?”
Yato’s face had sunk lower and lower into his scarf as she spoke. He mumbled something into it, still not looking at her.
Since Hiyori was well-versed in his moods, she simply crouched so that she was directly in his field of view. “Come again?”
“It’s because you’re my most devout believer,” he said, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “It’s like the opposite of a miasma. It can only happen when extreme faith persists.” He finally meets her eyes. “It means our ties are strong.”
Hiyori glimpsed an arc of woven sunlight twisting like infinity around them at his words, like something seen from the corner of your eyes.
“It’s my greatest treasure,” he confessed.
The world spun taffy thick. “So even though others believe in you now, I’m somehow..?”
“None of them are even close to this,” he said. “The shrine in your apartment is more home to me than any of the ones built in major cities.”
It was a lot to take in. Hiyori was used to being the backbone in her friendships, used to providing a solid, trustworthy space in which others could gain their footing. But being exalted to a god?
“I still think about what would’ve happened if I’d listened to Tenjin,” Yato continued, brushing a hand through the ties’ afterimage. “I am who I am because you’ve helped me become it. If our ties had been cut…” His hand fell to his side. “I might not be here right now, or I’d be some monster doing Father’s bidding.”
“I wouldn’t have made it out of plenty of situations without you, either,” Hiyori said slowly. “Isn’t that the nature of knowing someone? Being changed by them?”
Yato thought about this for a moment, the wind soft and gentle as it ruffled his hair. “Ever since I was small, Father had always told me that I was always in the right, always the one in control. That I could do whatever I wanted and others would adjust. I think it was supposed to make me feel powerful, but I didn’t want power. I wanted to belong.” Something like surrender was in his eyes when he said, “You were the first person to make me feel like I belonged in a very long time.”
It was too much. All of her pent up feelings — the fear, the hope, the confusion — from her high school days welled up at once, shattered from the amber in which she’d crystallized it once Yato defeated father and brought Yukine home.
“I’m glad,” she finally said when she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake. “Because you do belong, you and Yukine and Kofuku and Daikoku and —“
“With you?” Yato’s voice was so quiet it was like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
“Of course with me,” Hiyori said, feeling brave. “The same way I belong with you. That’s how this works. We’re already tied, right? Let’s just be tied. For however long that lasts.”
“For however long that lasts,” Yato murmured. It sounded like a vow.
The afternoon sun had taken on that tired golden edge that meant it was closer to sunset than noon. Hiyori’s heart was still beating a little too fast, her mind dizzy with implications that felt too raw to look at now.
“Thank you for coming today,” Yato said at last. “I missed you.”
“Now that I know I have the most important shrine in my apartment, I’m sure we can figure out ways to talk more,” Hiyori said, and was rewarded with another blush.
“May I take you home? There are a lot of leftovers to carry and Kofuku threatened to murder me if I came back with any.”
Hiyori laughed and started back towards their blanket. “Of course.”
47 notes · View notes
lady-literature · 4 years ago
Text
ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.
It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!
me, 13k words later: oh no)
SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!
(or, find the finished product here!)
***
There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.
The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.
Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.
Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.
***
The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.
She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.
Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…
She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.
Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.
Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.
She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.
She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.
“Oof!”
Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate. 
Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.
“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”
If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.
The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.
“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”
“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”
Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.
“Uh, why? Exactly?”
“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”
Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”
“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”
“Adrien Agreste!”
Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.
“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”
Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?
Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.
He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.
Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.
Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.
“And who are you?”
Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.
When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.
Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?
The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.
She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”
Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.
The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”
Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.
“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.
He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”
She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man. 
***
Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today
MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.
the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.
ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie
dearest
the evil twin: Okay first of all-
ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine
light of our collective lives and reason I breathe
what the fuCK
YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?
The Betrayal™
GottaGoFast: ew
Queen of Salt: ew
sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen
give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]
Queen of Salt: wait
I was with you all day when did this happen?
was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?
ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT
Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!
chloe stop spreading misinformation!
titus was a sweetheart!
YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect
he was, in fact, a menace
give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild
ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?
Colonel Bug: shut up adrien
all animals are great
stop being elitist
give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it
the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?
GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously
keep up
Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually
And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance
MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen
GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!
ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?
Colonel Bug: no alix
did you not read the part about how rude he is
YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,
Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him
ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe
YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino
Colonel Bug: i hate it here
i spoke to him for like 2 seconds
Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-
YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?
Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare
i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you
YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT
ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT
GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!
sneaky snake: but ya didn’t
***
I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!
593 notes · View notes
razorblade180 · 4 years ago
Text
Interdimensional Moms: Bonus
Part 4 here<-
After many tears and tissue boxes, all members of team RWBY had finally stopped crying. Blake was the best off with her eyes a little red while Ruby was the complete opposite. The girl’s face was still rather red and her eyes were puffy. She hadn’t even completely stopped sniffling yet; much like tear marked partner. Yang on the other hand rested her head on the table. She had cried hard enough to giver herself a minor headache. She was completely drained.
Yang:Ugh, this blows! I thought this was gonna be a fun learning experience.
Blake:We definitely learned. It just so happens we had to poke at some.... extremely sensitive topics.
Weiss:I’m all for looking inward and self reflection but I’ve had my fill.
Ruby:Same. Should’ve kept the summary light.
Yang:No, I’m glad you got that off your chest. We just need a way to lighten the mood.
Blake:.....I kicked Weiss’s butt in a tournament.
RWY:......What?
Blake:During the time spent training for Salem, another tournament was held between the schools. It had team matches and singles. I kicked Weiss’s butt in my fourth round. It was a good day.
Weiss:How is that lightening mood!?
Blake:Listen, it was a big deal! I never thought I was gonna win the whole tournament but I really wanted to beat you. I love you but your head gets a little big when you’re on a roll for too long; plus I just really didn’t want to lose. I always felt a bit of rivalry between us.
Yang:Hehe, is that you’re way of saying “It would look bad to lose to a Schnee?”
Blake:Well it would!
Ruby:Hehehe.
Yang:Wait, does that mean we went back to school?
Blake:Yeah. It was pretty comforting. There was definitely a lot left to learn.
Yang:Weird. School kinda faded into the background.
Ruby:I went back to school. We all did actually. It was fast tracked by roughly a year but it was fun. We all got to pose in caps and gowns.
Weiss:Damn! I should’ve went back just for that. Unfortunately I was busy making rent and learning how to properly preheat a oven.
Yang:It’s like two buttons.
Weiss:Gas stove, and six years out of date.
Yang:Awww, you had to learn the hard way. I’m surprised and thankful you never left the gas on.
Weiss:There’s an alarm for that. Also I’m not irresponsible! Anyways, I mentioned similar tournaments earlier. I didn’t participate much but enough old videos of me in them were enough for to really light a fire under my kids. For awhile I was a bit concerned that they were just following a trend but they really love it. They used to always go around playing like knights when they were tiny.
Ruby:Carmine was a little different. She definitely always tried doing things I could but nothing got the girl jumping like seeing Yang’s horses or new ballet shoes. There wasn’t a morning when I didn’t hear a vase fall over or seeing her spin like a top. Carmine still hums some old routines when she isn’t paying attention.
Yang:Not too many memories of Yujin when she was pint size. But I do remember that wild child always loved using my bandannas for everything! Napkins, capes, ropes; anything but an actual bandanna. I used to get a bit upset with the napkin one but she’d always look at me with her big eyes and crazy hair. I never stayed mad.
Weiss:Softie.
Yang:She was like a pudgy puff ball! Fat cheeks and wholesome smiles. Ah! So adorable!
Weiss:I used to always have at least one of my kids on my hip when I was out and about. I think the media has a magazine amount of pictures of me at the park kissing my babies. Summer liked tummy rubs. She’d never go to sleep without one. Some nights I’d sing too but start to doze off so Jaune would have to take over.
Yang:*smiles* Speaking of Jaune.....
Ruby:No.
Yang:You don’t even know what I was-
Ruby:Were you about to suggest we compare our Jaune’s in the bedroom?
Yang:*red*......Well not just the bedroom! What’s the harm!? I just wanna know if he’s consistent across the board. No need to get detailed.
Weiss:You really never change no matter the world.
Yang:Can’t change greatness. It shows in any form!
Blake:He’s pretty compliant and accommodating. The benefits of being his first when I had prior knowledge I suppose.
Ruby:Don’t answer!
Blake:Why not? I’m comfortable with it.
Yang:Don’t listen to those two Blake. They’re just a bit more embarrassed since Jaune has literally been their one and only.
Blake:Huh, I never thought about it like that. Jaune would’ve been the first person you two opened up to on such a level; especially Weiss.
Yang:That’s still hilarious. All the protesting and somehow you found yourself stripping for the guy.
Weiss:Shut up! I already know! It was....I.... *blushing* emotions ran really high.
Ruby:An entire mental rollercoaster of thoughts and firsts happening all at once. Anxiety was high.
Yang:Heh, so you could say that Jaune Arc-
RW:Got through our walls. Hardy har har.
Yang:Shit, I am the same in every universe. Well I don’t have any reservations about it! *grinning* He makes me feel special every time!
Blake:Bottom.
Yang:I’m ignoring you.🎶
Ruby:Hehe, sounds about right. He...might make me feel a bit special as well.
Blake:Switch.
Ruby:How can you just guess off of that!?
Blake:It’s a gift.
Weiss:......
Blake:*smiling*
Weiss:Leave me alone.
Blake:I don’t know what has you embarrassed. You told us you’ve slept with everyone here except Ruby! I knew you were repressed but geez.
Weiss:For your information it wasn’t my idea! It was yours!
Blake:Not surprising. Let’s switch the topic. How is this other child of mine? Can’t picture me having a daughter.
Weiss:Veronica is very sensitive. Even if she tries to act like she isn’t. One time when she was tiny, a soccer ball hit her straight in the face and she sprung up saying “I’m fine!” Then you took her behind the bleachers to patch her up; tears all on her face. It both breaks my heart and very adorable to see her act fine while her ears are folded back.
Ruby:Your other son Kovu was a bit of cry baby. Partly my fault. Carmine kept beating him up and making fun of him.
Blake:What!?
Yang:Ha! Wait, that’s my kid too. How the heck!? Are you telling me you raised the rowdy child and I got the baby?
Ruby:Yang you’re a baby. I’m like twice as rowdy compared to you. A nevermore got worked day one at school.
Weiss:She has a point. You cry the most out of any of us.
Yang:Wha- that not- how....shut up! *pouts* I’m not that touchy.
Ruby:Kovu is a sweetie and not a cry baby. Carmine is just a little mean when she tries to care about others. She beat him up in an attempt to make Kovu give up dreaming about being a huntsman. That way he wouldn’t be in such a dangerous job. Reasonable logic but you know, a little over the top. Almost broke his arm. Boy did I chew her out. All it did was make him want to try harder.
Yang:Fantastic. I shouldn’t expect less from my own blood. I bet Yujin would like him. Which reminds me, anybody have kids in relationships?
RWB:We’re working on it.
The three women paused briefly before laughing at their meddling. Yang could only admire and fear her friends.
Yang:Should I be scared for your children?
Blake:Lucas needs someone to break up the routine in his life. I’m not saying he has to date her, but it would put a smile on my face.
Ruby:Carmine takes after me, not really thinking about stuff like relationships much. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t at all. Carmine tries her best to not act like she’s a teenaged girl with teenage wishes. But everyone sees right through it. I’m fine with her not being in one but I would like if she acknowledged that it’s okay to just....ugh, be normal! Why can nobody have normal knees in my life!?
Weiss:Nick likes Valerie who tries to deny she likes him by liking Summer, who doesn’t like her; while Veronica crushes on Nick who obviously has conflicting feelings.
RBY.....
Yang:Why is it always complicated with you?
Weiss:How is this my fau- okay it is a little bit.
Blake:Where do you stand?
Weiss:I think Valerie would be lovely for him.
Yang:What’s wrong with my baby girl!?
Blake:Yeah!?
Weiss:One, not yours. Two, have you met who I’m married to? Can’t really say he’s wasting his efforts. Though I wouldn’t be upset with Veronica. I think those two might be good for each other.
Blake:Any other bombshells people got?
Ruby:......
Ruby:Ilia is happily married.*sips coffee*
Blake:Oh that’s wonderful! I’m glad she found a loving wi-
Ruby:*smirks* To Sun.
Blake:....*stands up* I need, champagne!
A bottle of champagne poofs into existence with several glasses. Blake immediately pours everyone a glass before raising hers into the sky.
Blake:Ruby Rose, today you’ve erased guilt upon my conscious. I’m happy there’s one world where it seems all of my good exes get over me.
Ruby:Are the Ilia and Sun where you’re from miserable like Yang!?
Blake:No, but they kinda fumble in actually going for relationships. It just always makes me feel a little bad.
Yang:You can technically count two worlds. I’m fine, Ilia is dating a pretty secretary, and your one evil ex is now raising a morally good family.
Blake:You’re right! This calls for a double toast! To alternate universes! *puts glass down*
Weiss:Haha, aren’t you gonna drink it!?
Blake:No I’m still recovering; but how could I pass up the opportunity!? Man I wish I could attend that wedding! I don’t know if I’d be a bridesmaid or the best man!
Yang:You’re just gonna steal Neptune’s thunder like that?
Blake:Hey, Sun and I have taken bullets for each other and stab wounds. I think I deserve to be a little greedy and say I ride or die for that man just a little harder than Neptune.
Ruby:Geeeeeez Blake! Haha, I didn’t even tell you about the baby.
Blake:*visble excitement* Excuse me!?
RWY:*raises glass* Cheers.
Blake:CHEERS! What’s he like!?
xxxxx
Aero:AAAACHOOOO!
Carmine:Eugh! Cover your mouth! I don’t need to get sick.
Aero:Damn! What happened to uh I don’t know, “bless you!?”
Carmine:*pulls out tissues* Happy?
Aero:Where...why are those in you book bag?
Carmine:It’s flu season.
Aero:....I can’t tell if you’re the coolest person around or just a second mother.
Carmine:I can be both. My mom is arguably both but don’t tell her that. It’ll make her month and she’ll hug me too tight.
Aero:Bitch, you love hugs. Stop being difficult.
Carmine:Mmmm nah.
Aero:I feel bad for your mom.
Carmine:I feel bad for yours.
Aero:Hop off. You’re so childish.
Carmine:And yet you love me.
Aero:*red* In your dreams!
Carmine:It would make your day if I dreamed about you,wouldn’t it?
Aero:I hope you dream of spiders.
Carmine:We do not joke about that! *grabs him* Aero I will beat you up if I dream of them tonight! That’s just mean!
Aero:Stop crying ya baby. I could’ve said they were- ow!
Sun:*hitting him* Shut up and just kiss something! We’re trying to watch a game.
Aero and Carmine:We don’t like each other!
Jaune:With all do respect, that’s a lie. But please by all means Aero, continue not touching my daughter if you know what’s best for you. I don’t wanna have to fight you and your parents right afterwards.
Sun:Ilia would kill you.
Jaune:Yeah! That’s why I don’t want the fight! Much like Ruby, she’s short and terrifying. Her size holds the rage.
Ilia:*peeks in* Who’s talking shit?
JASC:Nobody, we love you!
Ilia:.....Got my eyes on you four. *holds Garnet up* and this one; the most well behaved in this bunch even with no nap.
Garnet:*fussy grumbling* I’m a ball of rage!
Ilia:You wanna nap?
Garnet:Yes!!!
Ilia:See, behaved. *walks away* don’t make me come back out here.
Carmine:....So do you like me because your mother is also imposing?
Aero:This is it, my evil origin story. It begins today.
xxxxx
Ruby:I admire his patience.
120 notes · View notes
luxekook · 5 years ago
Text
ego | jjk | harry potter au
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⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader
⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst
⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs 
⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
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The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.
I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.
Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.
As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.
“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.
Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.
The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.
Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.
Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.
Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.
He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.
That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.
I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?
I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.
“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”
My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”
It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”
Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.
Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”
“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”
Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”
He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.
“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”
All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”
“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.
He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”
He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”
I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”
This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”
The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.
He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.
“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”
That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”
My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”
His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”
“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.
“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”
I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”
My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”
He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.
I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.
Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.
Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.
I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.
Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.
“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”
How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”
“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.
“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.
I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.
I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.
Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”
“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.
He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”
Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”
Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.
Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.
We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.
“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.
I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”
Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.
We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…
“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.
…Or not.
I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.
He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”
I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”
“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell,  you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.
“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”
“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”
We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”
His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”
“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”
A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”
Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.
And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”
I blushed. He noticed.
“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”
I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:
‘He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.
‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.
However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.
Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”
He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”
My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”
“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”
He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.
“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.
“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.
I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”
I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.
That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”
He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”
His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”
Fuck it all.
My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.
I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.
How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?
I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.
I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.
His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.
I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.
“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.
As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”
I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.
2K notes · View notes
nythberryy · 4 years ago
Text
Hold Me Tight (Erwin x fem!Reader)
I wrote an Attack on Titan fanfiction (oneshot) in which Erwin Smith is a real gentleman.
Words: 2955
Warning:
The story contains 18+ scenes and builds up slow.
-They'd known each other for a long time, yet none of them confessed until that rainy night.-
It starts a bit sad, but trust me, it ends well. 💞
It's my first story written in English, so I apologize for grammatical mistakes and cringe writing.
I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable. 💞
(I also posted it on ao3. You can find me there as: NythBerry)
Thank you for your time!✨
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September was usually gilded by the last sunbeams of summer, however that day was colder than usual. As clouds gathered, the sky turned grey. Raindrops began to knock on the red tile roof just to then fall and soak the ground. It was raining all day without a break. Everyone from the city struggled to get through the mud. The carts couldn't fight it, the horses neighed as they tried to push forward. Wooden wheels crackled, some even broke in two.
A tall man walked into the guesthouse. Water was slowly dripping from his clothes. With each step he made, he left a puddle on the freshly washed floor. (Y/N) recognized him in a blink of an eye though his face was covered by the green hood he was wearing. He stopped at the counter and revealed his face. His blonde hair, that was always slicked back nicely, now was a mess. Wet strands fell on his forehead.
(Y/N) put down the mop and wiped her hands to greet the man. "Erwin!"
"Good evening, (Y/N)! I'd like to book a room for tonight."
"What happened to your trousers?" it was covered in mud to the knee "Is it that bad outside?"
"It's raining quite heavily" he said "I don't think I would be able to go back tomorrow."
"I'll prepare a room for you. Just sit down please. There's no one here anyway, except an elderly couple upstairs. Do you want to drink something warm? Tea maybe?"
"Tea is fine, thank you."
Erwin took a seat in front of the counter and watched the woman placing the teapot on the stove. She quickly ran into the pantry and returned with a basket full of baked goods. She put some on a plate and gave it to the man.
"How's your father?" he asked while (Y/N) wiped the floor again. Her father owned this little guesthouse that once was famous.
"He's alright. But I'm afraid we won't be able to afford his medications. Less and less people can afford to book a room and we simply can't make the prices cheaper. I don't really know what to do."
"Don't worry, (Y/N)!" a kind hoarse voice appeared from behind. It was her father. "Welcome, Commander Smith! What brings you here again?"
"Good evening!" he greeted back. "Just another budget negotiation. As usual, the government has no intentions of increasing funds."
"As much as I want to support the Scouts, I unfortunately see why they don't want to do so in moments like this." Her father was in the regiment before he retired. Erwin and he shared similar views on the importance of going beyond the walls. "(Y/N)! Go prepare a room and find some clothes for him."
While she went to search dry clothes that would fit the commander, the two man began to talk about a different topic.
"I know why you visit this place so often" chuckled the father as he opened a bottle of whisky. He poured them both. "I see how you look at her."
For a moment Erwin didn't know what to say, which was quite unusual of him. A small smile curved his lips. "So, you found out my secret."
"It wasn't that hard to figure out. I have eyes. It's that simple." he sipped "You've known my daughter for years. Since when...?"
"It's one of those things that just can't be put in words. It was four years ago, that moment I realized I wanted to see her as many times as I could."
"Why didn't you tell her? You're afraid I'd bring the rifle? Or maybe you're more afraid of her? You think she would reject you?" he smiled "I can tell she has feelings for you too. Haven't you noticed how excited she is seeing you? She's not even looking at other guys, though she's in the age of marriage. What will she do when I'll be gone? At least you, as a commander, would make a great reputation for her." he joked "She'll be left alone like the last leaf on a tree before winter begins."
"That's why I won't tell her. I don't want to cause pain." he grabbed the glass and drank from it "To be honest, I don't even know if I'll be here next month. There's just no guarantee." he sighed "But I'm a selfish man. I still want to see her every time I'm near her. I'm truly the worst. I can't give her happiness, only suffering. I don't want (Y/N) to lose more people."
(Y/N)'s father knew Erwin was right. Her mother passed away, when she was fourteen; lost many loved ones when Shiganshina fell. Childhood friends, friends whom she trusted the most, old neighbours she liked and nearly all relatives of their family were gone now.
Both men knew the feeling. Without further words they agreed and sat back quietly.
(Y/N) heard the conversation. When she heard that Erwin had feelings for her, she thought her heart was going to break through her ribcage, like a desperate bird ready to be free. However, as he continued, her hearth shattered into pieces. (Y/N) pretended she didn't hear anything and told the blonde man his room was ready. He stood up and walked towards the stairs where she was standing.
"Change into these" she gave him the dry clothes "I'll knock on your door in ten minutes."
...
"Can I come in?" she asked. Erwin replied with a yes. (Y/N) walked into the room catching a glimpse of the commander's chest while he was buttoning the last button. He picked up the soaked clothes from the chair and held it out for (Y/N).
"Thank you for taking care of me."
"Erwin..." she began faintly and grabbed his arm "We need to talk."
"About what?" he looked surprised.
"I heard everything and-"
Erwin interrupted. "You don't have to worry about it. I won't do anything." he shook her hand off.
"You don't even want to know how I feel?"
"What would it change? You should find someone better. Someone who can be there for you. Someone who's not selfish. There're many good men out there."
"What about my choice? You think you can make decisions for me?"
He put the clothes back on the chair. "I don't want to put you through hell."
"It's already hell." she said with a slight hitch in her voice "You have no idea how long... How long I've ... Erwin..." Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheek.
It pained him to see the woman, whom he loved the most, looking so defeated.
"I love you, Erwin!" she cried out "And nothing can change that."
It snapped him out of his stubbornness for a second. He gently pulled (Y/N) into a hug, placing her head on his chest. The feeling of his warmth and beating hearth was pure heaven.
"I want you. Only you."
"(Y/N), I can't give you happiness."
"What it is at all?" she sniffled. "There's no such thing as that... It's not a destination you can arrive to and stay there for the rest of your life. Happiness is a temporary state. It comes and goes. And... What defines it anyways?
"I still don't want you to get hurt. Especially because of me." he paused for a bit "I could die at any time. What if I go on a mission and never come back?"
"You think I don't know that, Erwin? Every time you go out the walls I worry, but... Did you know that in this awful world you're the one who keeps me alive?" she pressed herself against his comforting chest "And what about you? You think you don't deserve your so-called happiness? If you have feelings for me, why don't you..."
As she looked up, her eyes met with his. Tears were coming to his sky-blue eyes.
"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"
"I am. I want you to hold me tight and never let go."
...
Erwin placed his hand on her face caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He leaned closer to kiss her forehead, then gave another kiss on her nose making her blush. Finally, he pressed his warm lips against hers. He sucked her lips slowly, evenly, as he was dining something sweet as nectar. She was his delicate flower.
His kiss was subtle and tender, however a wave of heat flushed through him causing to kiss more passionately. Erwin slid his tongue across her bottom lip luring her mouth to open for him. His tongue swirled around hers composing an intimate, sensual dance. A slight moan escaped from (Y/N) in response. She slid her hands up his back, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. As a result, he groaned, and the urge to pull her hips against his grew. As much as he wanted to devour her, he had to resist.
The commander pulled away, only to realize that he wasn't the only one getting excited. The woman's body was filled with desire too. He watched her chest rise and fall hastily with each breath she took. He couldn't help but admire the beauty that was in front of him.
"You're gorgeous, (Y/N)." he held both of her hands and placed two gentle kisses on them "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to hold back. You're driving me crazy."
"I feel the same. I want you, Erwin."
Their lips met once again. The passion they felt had been buried in their hearts for years. The man possessed her lips claiming every centimetre of it while she held onto his strong shoulders tightly. Erwin guided her slowly to the writing table, not breaking the kiss even for a second. He lifted her up and placed her on the desk.
The commander's lips travelled down her neck and goose bumps flooded her skin tilting her head to the side. He tucked her blouse out of her skirt to slide his large hands under the fabric. When he touched her stomach, a sudden thought startled her. What if she's not good enough?
"Erwin... The candles..."
"I want to see you" he whispered in her ear.
"But..." she grasped his shoulder.
"No buts. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. No one can compete with you" the man kissed her cheek "Can I take your blouse off?"
She'd been deprived for far too long of this man who now was standing right in front of her. She nodded, and looked away in fear of what he would see might disgust him. Erwin took it off her and freed her breasts from the undergarment.
"Look at me, (Y/N)." he begged and with a bit of hesitation, she did so, finding his sparkling blue eyes, so full of love and excitement, staring down at her. Meeting his gaze, she smiled sweetly before closing her eyes as he inclined his head. He also pulled his hips tight against hers. "You did this to me, (Y/N)."
He laid her down gently on the wobbly desk and his mouth was on her breasts quicky, conquering all of it. His fiery tongue played with one of her nipples while the other was held in his hand. Next, he travelled lower and lower, down to her stomach, only to find the skirt in the way. She felt a sudden wetness between her legs.
"Can I?" he asked for permission. She nodded. She ached for it.
He removed the skirt and her shoes too. Erwin placed a kiss on her beauty through her panties before he pulled it off and trailed it down her leg. He kissed the hill again and ran two fingers down on it.
"You're soaking already, (Y/N)." then he started to explore her slit with his tongue "You're so sweet, my darling."
He sucked on the folds a little, then parted them to make his way up to her clit which he tickled wickedly. With a finger he began tracing circles around her entry. Shortly after, he slid it in. (Y/N) flinched a little, letting out a moan. After he realized she could take more, he added another one.
She enjoyed it greatly. She grabbed Erwin's head, ran her fingers through his soft hair while pulling him closer to her hips. She wanted more. Erwin was surprised by her action, and began to lick and move his fingers more passionately. Her body was burning in explicit heat. A sudden wave of extasy rushed through her and he was proud seeing his efforts paying off.
The man straightened up to hurriedly rip his shirt off and throw it on the floor. (Y/N) was mesmerized by his well- built form. She wanted to touch it, so she sat up to lean closer. She explored each muscle with her finger, even caressed his hard nipples. She travelled further down to his pants. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as her fingers lightly touched his sensitised flesh made her wanting Erwin even more.
"If you touch me like that I might..." Erwin's mouth left an excited hiss as she pulled down his trousers a little.
He stepped back to take it off along with his shoes as well. As he tugged down his underwear, his rock-hard, massive manhood revealed.
"Well..." she said in surprise "That is a titan."
He couldn't help but giggle. (Y/N) glanced up, seeing him smile at her with a sweet, sensuous smile. He stepped closer to possess her lips and lift her up from the desk just to then put her gently on the bed.
He was on top of her. The woman's breast against his chest while she wrapped her legs around his trim waist made him lose it all. He wanted to be inside her.
"(Y/N)" he sighed "Can I?"
"Yes, Erwin!"
He began to trace her entry in circular motions with his member. Softly, he placed the tip inside. She moaned in pain, feeling it tearing her walls.
"Are you alright, darling?" he asked with worry in his eyes.
"I'm okay. It's okay" she caressed his clean-shaved face. "Go on, my commander."
Their lips joined again, while he grabbed her hips and plunged deep inside her. He waited a little so she could get used to his size. A couple of minutes later, he began to move gently, sliding in and out gradually going further and speeding up the rhythm. As he heard her sweet moans, felt her warmness and tightness around him, he fell into an abyss of pleasure. Erwin couldn't tame his desire anymore, finding himself thrusting into her with an enormous intensity. He couldn't get himself to stop now. He wanted her.
Erwin grunted and groaned which she found immensely sexy. The pain already faded away, endless pleasure and joy replaced it. His thick hands made their way up to her breasts, grabbing it with more and more greed.
"I love you, Erwin" she cried out.
"I love you more."
Shameful sounds filled the room and the man increased his speed to the maximum. (Y/N) latched onto his shoulders and buried her head into his chest, trembling hard against him. A wave of pleasure started to hit them both. She tightened around his manhood, and he couldn't hold on any longer as she continued to clutch. The unbearable yet wonderful torture of being lost in her made him release his seed inside of her. It was an indescribable feeling being filled up by the man of his dreams. They remained like this for a while, panting heavily.
Erwin pulled out of her but didn't let go as he wrapped her arms around her.
"I'm sorry." he said, stroking her hair.
"For what?"
"For loving you so badly, that I lost myself and couldn't hold back."
"You're so silly." she chuckled "I enjoyed every minute of it."
"Can I clean you up?" he asked placing a gentle kiss on her forehead "I've made a mess down there"
She nodded and the commander put his underwear on. He brought a wet towel and sit back on the bed. He gently spread her legs to wipe her womanhood. Then he softly stretched her entry with his finger. Erwin blushed as he saw his liquid oozing out of her.
"Erwin?" she noticed the rosiness on his cheeks.
"Nothing..." he said looking away "I apologize."
"No need to." she sat up giving him a quick little kiss on his pink cheek "I love you!"
"I love you more, (Y/N)"
...
Morning came shining its warm, golden sunbeams. All the clouds were gone and she was in his arms, all his and he would never be so foolish to let her go. She opened her eyes, only to get lost in his sky-blue iris.
"Good morning, love!" he caressed her face.
"Morning, Erwin..." she yawned and quicky realized, that she should've been up a long time ago. "My god! I should be downstairs! What time is it? Oh! And I haven't even washed your clothes!"
"Shhh..." he stopped you from jumping out of the bed by hugging you from behind "No need to hurry. It's only six thirty."
"I wake up at five!"
"You're open at seven..."
"Yes, but there's work to do. Buying things from the market, breakfast to prepare, cleaning..." she counted on her fingers.
"It can wait. Just stay with me like this for five minutes"
"Then hold me tight, Erwin."
She couldn't resist him. She was lost in his alluring presence whenever she was with him. It was pure heaven to be in his loving arms.
The end
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cheywtf · 5 years ago
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Truth or Dare?
Description: On a hot day in the Outer Banks the Pogues decide to play a little game of truth or dare.
Pairing: The Pogues x Reader, JJ x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Sex
Word Count: 768 words
A/N: This was my first time ever writing something like this so I’m sorry if it sucked lmao! I wanted to write something short before I decide if I want to continue. I’ve had Tumblr since like sixth grade and I’m a senior graduating high school now (what a time to be the graduating class of 2020) and I still have no idea how to use it. Please let me know what you thought of it, I would love feedback and let me know if you want a part 2? I started working on an Outer Banks fan fiction last night and if this goes well I might continue writing it. I’m also planning on writing smut so if you have requests, please send them in! I’m looking forward to hearing from you all!
xxx,
chey
masterlist
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It was a hot day in the Outer Banks. Argumentatively one of the hottest days of the summer. It seemed as if the Earth was going to crack open right down the Southern Hemisphere and swallow everything and everyone in its dry, hot core.
“My balls are melting. Literally MELTING!” JJ exasperated.
The Pogues were currently floating down the river in John B’s boat. Pope was behind the wheel as usual, while Kiara and John B were sprawled out on the deck, Sarah’s head resting in his lap. Y/N was laid out on the cushioned seats and JJ was stood out on the bow of the boat, trying to get the beer to fly in his mouth. Just like many times before, it was a failed attempt.
“Ew, don’t be so grotesque.” Kiara said.
“I don't even know what the means.” JJ grinned as Kiara stuck her tongue out at him.
“I am beyond bored. I thought you guys were supposed to be fun.” Sarah whined.
“Hey now, Princess Kook,” JJ started. “You’re more than welcome to go back to your generated, air conditioned castle. But if you really want to live like a Pogue, the first rule is no complaining.
“I thought the first rule was ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking’? You chimed in.
“Shhhh.” JJ replied. “Don’t ruin my flow, pookie.” He winked and you rolled your eyes.
‘Pookie’ was JJ’s nickname for you since you had just moved to the Outer Banks a few weeks ago. Kiara had introduced you to the crew one day while she was training you at The Wreck. You weren’t considered a Kook since you didn't live in the rich area of Figure Eight, but you definitely weren't considered a Pogue since your house was nearly three times the size of John B’s. Pope had joked that the boys call you a Pook, a combination of “Kook and Pogue.” JJ of course wanted to find a way to get under your skin and changed it to Pookie and it just sort of stuck.
“Hey I have an idea!” Kiara stood up. “Why don't we play truth or dare?”
“Isn't that a kids game?” Sarah scoffed. “Wheezie plays that when her friends come over.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Kia remarked. Sarah was quiet. “That’s what I thought. I’ll go first.” Her eyes scanned the group for her first victim. “JJ, truth or dare?”
The blonde boy sat down as he said “Truth.”
“Boooo!!” John B piped up. Kiara hushed him before asking “If the no pogue-on-pogue rule wasn’t a thing, which one of us would you mack?”
The boys snickered as they all await JJ’s response. You saw his eyes flicker to you and butterflies erupt in your stomach. There’s no way it’s you, right? JJ was always teasing you and acted as if you were his little sister. Your heart began to race as Pope spoke.
“You’ve got five-seconds to answer or we push you off the bow and let you swim back to shore.”
“Five...” John B began counting.
“Four...” Kiara said tauntingly.
“Three...” Sarah chimed in, devious smile on her face, finally getting the entertainment she had been longing for since the crew came and picked her up from her house.
“Two...” Pope said as he walked forward, preparing to toss JJ out of the side of the boat.
“Fine, fine, fine!” JJ said as he shot his hands up and took a step back away from Pope who was now three feet in front of him.
“Spit it out already, then. It’s not that big of a deal.” Kiara said becoming impatient.
“Y/N. Alright? Y/N.”
Everyone stopped and looked over to you. The sweat on your body went cold as your eyes widened in shock. It’s not like you weren’t flattered. You had had a crush on the boy ever since you first met him at The Wreck, four weeks ago. However, you quickly pushed those feelings away when he began teasing you. You thought he thought of you as a sister. But now? Clearly not.
Your face began to burn.
“Alright, let’s not dwell on this. Like you said,” JJ said motioning over to Kiara. “It’s not a big deal.”
JJ asked Sarah whether she wanted truth or dare and just like that the game had continued, with Sarah choosing dare and downing a can of beer in less than ten-seconds.
He thought he was in the clear but unfortunately for him, thats when the teasing from the Pogues began and fortunately for you, when he started to fall for you harder than he had before.  
1K notes · View notes
artaefact · 4 years ago
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bakery 1995.
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—wordcount: 14.7k+
—genre: angst, fluff, romance, baker!jimin, bakery cafe au, childhood friends-to-lovers au
—pairing: park jimin x f reader ft. bestfriend!jungkook
—rating: pg-15
—warnings: age gap (jimin is 4-5 years older), brief mention of physical assault, memory loss, overprotective parents, some intended grammatical mistakes, swearings, y/n is dragged into jungkook’s shenanigans
—summary: After returning from college for summer break, you got yourself a part time job to keep yourself busy. However, things go way too unexpectedly and you find yourself unraveling your forgotten past.
author’s note: this is for @btswritingcafe promptly yours event !! i tweaked the prompt a bit, so hopefully no one would get confused! happy reading ♡
Prompt: “Person A once had a major childhood crush on Person B. Fast forward to college where Person A is convinced it was nothing but temporary, that is until they return home for summer break to find Person B back after being gone for several years. Turns out, they weren’t such temporary feelings.”
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© artaefact/eunoiabliss 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.
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It’s nice to know that no matter how judgemental the world can be, pigeons would never judge you. Despite the clear contrast between yourself and the asphalt pathway, they would not hesitate to excrete waste on either of them and can’t even be bothered by the possible consequences.
Staring at the dropping on your jacket sleeve, you exhale loudly while rummaging your pocket for a kleenex.
‘Out of all the places where their shit could have landed on, it had to be MY jacket,’ you grumble to yourself.
Reaching towards the bakery in the area, you hope they still have some cinnamon rolls you have been craving for. You can already imagine yourself humming in delight as the sweetness spreads across your taste buds and—
“You have got to be kidding me.”
The cashier attendee bows apologetically at you. “We’re so sorry, all the cinnamon rolls are sold out for today.”
Today must be the worst day to date in your entire years of existence. How on earth can a bakery run out of cinnamon rolls?
Groaning internally, you trudge out of the, now, third bakery that has sold out their cinnamon rolls.
Bad luck seems to follow you throughout the day. Is it because you went out of the house while your parents were in the middle of nagging you? For the last few days after you came back home for summer break, they have been constantly nagging you and you would kill to have an hour of peace and quiet.
Mindlessly, you whip up your phone and search up on Google while you walk to the nearby bus station, typing in the search bar — is it bad luck if a bird pooped on you?
Biting your lower lip, you press on the first link that appears on the screen.
Bird poop may be a sign of hope in disguise, you read. Snorting in incredulity, you scroll through the webpage.
It can’t be good luck.
You are not the type to believe in superstitions, however, besides getting pooped on, you dropped your phone on the pavement of the sidewalk just before you reached the first bakery, an hour ago. This resulted in the annoying crack of the screen right in the middle of it. Not only that, the sole of your right tennis shoes came off halfway which hindered you from walking properly and made you look like someone who hurt their leg.
Having had enough for today, you decide to go back home. Until a pastel pink store, right across the street, catches your attention with its aesthetic-looking door.
What’s this? A new—
A dramatic gasp escapes your lips after reading the name of the store, earning confused stares from nearby people. But you couldn’t care less.
Maybe Lady Luck does still care about you.
As soon as the pedestrian light turns green, you excitedly run, no, shuffle through the zebra-cross, reaching the newly-opened bakery.
My last hope is here. Please, let there be—
The interior of the bakery exudes a welcoming vibe, with the color of pale pink being the dominant over the whole place. Basically, it's a place where those Instagram models would kill to take their pictures at. However, it’s not the interior itself that your focus locks on. When the smell of freshly baked goods wafts into your nose, your eyes zero themselves on the various types of pastries that line the display counter, covered in glass domes. And there it is.
“Yes!” You squeal, grabbing the bakery tray to fill it as much as you’d like.
When you place the filled tray in the cash register counter, the cashier comments, “Woah, that’s a lot.”
If it is a normal day, you would have waved it off. However, unfortunately for the guy, it isn’t a normal day for you, after the constant annoying incidents that happened to you earlier. The comment snaps the last thread of patience you have for the day and sadly, targets the person in front of you. “I think you should mind your own—”
You take your thoughts back. Lady Luck is not on your side nor is the universe. They must be having fun, playing pranks on you so much today.
Your words cease immediately at his sheepish yet attractive smile.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Just having a really bad day and I—”
“No! That’s okay.” The guy grins at you, eyes turning into crescent moons. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I just said the first thing that came up in my mind.”
“Ah...”
“I suck at starting conversations,” he says, sheepishly. “It’s a skill I’m planning to improve.”
Blinking twice, you manage to smile back at him, most probably just a cringed expression. “Well, um, good luck with that.”
As soon as he hands you the paper bag, you dash out of the bakery, not once looking back.
Your cheeks feel hot during the whole trip back home, every time you remember what happened, you would mentally kick yourself.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Eating the warm cinnamon rolls is a blessing and a curse.
You have never tasted such heavenly flavour before, all your worries and exhaustion seem to fade away. This brings you to freeze in the realisation that you’ll want, no, need to go back to that bakery to buy those delicious rolls again. Meaning, you’ll see that cute guy whom you snapped at earlier, again.
His friendly eye-smile burns deep in your mind. But you can’t shrug off the sense of familiarity of his face and his voice…
Have I met him before?
Once you reach home, body aching and tired, you take a quick shower before digging into the rolls. Clicking your tongue, you continue to munch on the rolls in your room while your thoughts pull you in deep.
The sudden knock on your door, however, brings you back to the present. Groaning loudly, you stand up from your padded window seat.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jungkook.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Your mouth agape at the sudden visit from your best friend. “Didn’t you say you won’t see me at all until break is over?”
“I might have changed my mind. I was very bored at home.” He enters your room, plopping on your beanbag. “So, now I am bored as hell and— Did you buy food without telling me?”
You met him during freshman year and you both hit it off quite quickly, you might add. After constantly pairing up together in projects, college project meetups gradually turned into hangouts.
“Says the one who claims to see my face every day makes him sick.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic ass, you go back to the window seat, crossing your legs. “It wasn’t planned, okay? I just got back home like thirty minutes ago.”
“But still you nearly finished everything without leaving me much!” He bit your last half-finished roll, letting out a noise of approval. “Which bakery did you buy it from?”
“It’s a new one. I never saw it before we went to college.”
“You should bring me there soon.”
“Nu-uh,” you refuse. “You can go yourself. I am not stepping a foot inside that place any longer.”
“What? Why not?”
“I may have embarrassed myself in front of the worker there.” Then you tell him what happened earlier.
Jungkook shakes his head in pity. “My poor Y/N, how do you always embarrass yourself when I’m not around? How would you survive in this world without me?”
Snorting at his words, you lean against the pillows on your back. “You’re the lucky one to have someone like me as his best friend. Anyways, how about that job I’m looking for?”
“Oh!” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Right, I was about to tell you! My friend is looking for a part-timer for his cafe.”
“Hmm, that sounds…”
Jungkook answers, “Boring? I know you’re looking for something much more exciting and—”
Narrowing your stare at Jungkook’s obvious judgmental face, you cut him off. “It sounds perfect, actually.”
Sighing, Jungkook whips up his phone. “You better bring me leftovers every time you get off work. I’ll bring you to his cafe tomorrow.”
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“You’re kidding me.”
“What? Why?”
“You little shit—” You smack his arm.
“Ow! Stop that, woman! I thought you said—”
“This is a fucking bakery, dumbass!” You hiss at him.
Jungkook gapes at you. “It’s a bakery cafe, what’s the difference?”
“It’s different! I can’t go back in there!” You whine in embarrassment.
“Wait— So this is the bakery where you embarrassed yourself?”
Nodding wordlessly, you exhale before catching Jungkook failing to stifle his laughter. “Shouldn’t be too big of a problem. He’s nice, Y/N.”
“But—”
“And I told him you were coming…” Jungkook scratches the back of his head.
After contemplating for a while, you decided to gather your courage and enter the sweet-smelling bakery with Jungkook.
Too late to go back now. It was either this or staying bored at home for the rest of the summer break, facing your parents’ look of disapproval at your lack of daily activities, or to be more exact productivity.
The cute guy just finished placing cakes inside the glass displays on the counter, then his gaze shifts to where you and Jungkook are standing.
“Jungkook!” The cute guy’s brown hair is slicked back as he takes off his baker’s hat, approaching your best friend.
“It’s been so long, Hyung!” Jungkook greets back with a hug, smiling from ear to ear. “And wow—” His eyes skim through the pastel-themed cafe. “You finally opened your own cafe.”
Watching them interacting is a foreign sight to you. It’s a rare right to see Jungkook, the usually shy one, so friendly and comfortable around the cute guy.
If you’re lucky enough, maybe the cute guy won’t remember you and—
“Ah! Miss Cinnamon Rolls!”
Scratch that. Of course, he still remembers you.
“I didn’t know you were looking for a job.” His eye smile lands on you finally and your throat dries up.
Jungkook fails to hold back his laughter. “Miss Cinnamon Rolls? Just how much did you buy last time?”
After sending a brief glare at your best friend, you introduce yourself to the cute guy, “Y/N.”
As soon as your name slips past your lips, the cute guy freezes momentarily, eyes widening a fraction. “Y/N?”
You nod slowly.
“Uh,” He fumbles. “Jimin. Park Jimin.”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“So, this is the kitchen area. We need to get the place ready by 8:30. Can you come by at 6 the latest?”
You nod at his question.
“We have a different menu each day. It will take some time for you to learn everything. But don’t worry I’ll teach everything you need to know.” He shoots you a smile, sending your heart to slightly flutter as you fiddle with your fingers.
Thank goodness Jungkook has left. Or else you’d never hear the end of his teasing or knowing smirk.
“I’m starting with bread and cakes these past few days before I open up the cafe section.”
For the rest of the day, Jimin spends his time letting you know everything about how the bakery runs whenever there are no customers. Even gracing you with two pieces of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the memory of your first encounter.
“Go ahead, enjoy it,” Jimin shoots you a knowing grin.
Muttering a quiet ‘okay’, you take the first bite — holding a delighted groan at the sweetness that bursts through your tastebuds.
Propping his chin on his hand, he stares at you in amusement. “You must really like cinnamon rolls, huh?”
“They’re my comfort food,” you admit after swallowing down a piece. “My late grandmother used to make a lot of rolls at home.”
“I see… Well, have you ever baked before, Y/N?”
“The basic stuff like chocolate chip cookies…”
“Oh, that’s great—”
You added quickly, “But I nearly burned down Jungkook’s kitchen, though. He banned me from the kitchen ever since.”
A surprised laugh escapes the man’s lips which you don’t mind hearing more often, especially if you are the one behind it.
“At least the cookies still turned out great. It was a bit on the burnt side but still good… Crispy and crunchy.” You nervously chuckle. “But I swear, I’m not that bad if you provide a clear recipe!”
Still giggling, Jimin leans forward on his seat. “I can teach you everything you need to know. The basic stuff on baking and then there would be clear recipes I can provide you.”
Your eyes lighten up at that. “Yes! I’ll try my best.”
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Arriving at the bakery at 6 am sharp, the next day — your official first day at work — Jimin can be seen moving back and forth from the small window opening connecting the kitchen and the bakery itself, already busy in the kitchen.
The smell of his work wafts through the entire bakery, indicating that he has been there for quite some time. Once you enter the kitchen, your mouth waters instinctively at the smell and sight of freshly-baked breads on the counter.
“How can I help?” From observing the finished baked goods, your eyes shift curiously at some ingredients — eggs, chocolate chips, sugar, flour — on the kitchen counter while you tighten the knot of your apron.
“You’re going to bake some chocolate chip cookies.” Jimin places a tray full of another different set of bread near the first one through the window. “So, go ahead, preheat the oven first.”
Following his instruction, you move towards one of the ovens. “Um…”
The corner of his lips quirks up at your obvious confusion before he chimes on how hot the oven should be set on.
With a brief nod, you turn on the oven. “Is this a test to see how far my baking skills go?” When you take a glimpse of the honey-haired man, he returns it with an amused grin of his own.
“Bingo.” Jimin’s smile is boyish and carefree and his eyes become crescent moons.
In other words, it made your heart race. However, you dismiss such unprofessional thoughts quickly before blood rises to your cheeks.
Clearing your throat, you move to the counter and start mixing the necessary ingredients altogether and set the dough on the baking tray. When the oven is preheated, you bring the tray towards it only to realise your mistake too late: not opening the oven first.
“Let me help,” Jimin says softly, opening the oven deftly.
“T-Thanks...” you mumble, concentrating on the task at hand.
Time passes quickly, before you know it, the oven makes a soft ‘ting’ sound. Opening it, the sweet smell wafts through the kitchen.
“I did it!” you say, excitedly placing the hot tray on the marble counter.
“But the final test is how the cookies taste.”
You watch in nervous anticipation as Jimin pops one of the cookies into his mouth. Not a moment later, he lets out a surprised sound.
“This is really good, Y/N. You do have the talent to bake.”
You beam at his words.
“Since that’s all set, I believe we still have other kinds of pastries to prepare for the day. I have all the recipes prepared for you here.” He motions to the notebook on the counter — you flip through it, astonished at all the recipes.
“Are these your own personalised recipes?”
Nodding, Jimin shoots you a grin. “I’ve always loved baking and there are some ways to make things with their own unique taste.”
The rest of the upcoming hour, you and Jimin were busy baking with Jimin instructing and giving you pointers. At some point, you even talked about anything and everything, as if you both have known each other all your life while you both work.
You have to admit, you find it really enjoyable. When the bakery closes, you sit quietly on one of the empty tables near the cashier after Jimin tells you to wait.
Mindlessly flipping through his recipe notebook, your attention soon shifts to Jimin himself with a steaming cup in his hold.
“Here.” He sets the cup in front of you.
You look at him quizzically before he motions for you to try.
“I’m opening the cafe part next week,” Jimin says. “Thought you can be the first to judge my caramel macchiato.”
“That’s a lot of caramel in one drink…” For a few moments, you observe the steaming coffee, froth decorates the top of it with drizzles of caramel in patterns of criss-cross nearly covering most of the foam itself. “Why caramel macchiato, though?”
“I thought you’d—” He clears his throat. “So many people really love caramel macchiato. So, I thought I’d go with this one for you to try first.”
Bringing the cup carefully to your lips, you take a sip of the beverage. The texture of the coffee is so smooth and the slight bitterness spreads through your taste buds and down your throat. Then you taste the caramel, letting out a delighted surprise when you find caramel bits inside the beverage.
Jimin keeps his stare on you, one hand supporting his chin and his eyes unreadable.
“What is it?” You ask, after downing the drink.
He blinks as if he was lost in his own thoughts. “Uh, how is it?”
“It’s very good.”
“Do you like coffee?” He asks.
Nodding, you tell him you loved to steal your mom’s coffee when you were younger. “There used to be a cafe near my place. I used to go there frequently during my high school years.”
Jimin briefly stills at yours words. “Do you... Still go there?”
You shake your head. “It was closed two years ago unfortunately.”
“Hmm, that’s a shame. I would’ve wanted to try the coffee there.”
Chuckling at his words, your mind takes you back to your high school days. “It was really good.”
Humming to yourself, you continue to flip through the pages of Jimin’s recipe notebook. “What’s this?” You stop at one page, pointing at a child’s drawing on his recipe notebook. “Did you draw it when you were younger?”
“It’s a shooting star.” Jimin answers. “And, no. I didn’t.”
“Oh? Sister? Brother?”
“I don’t have a sister and my brother just does not have the artistic skill to draw that,” he laughs. “It was someone from my past. Someone who is precious to me.”
“Oh…” Noticing his faraway gaze on the notebook, you sense it is a sensitive topic. “Why a shooting star though?”
“It represents hopes and wishes, according to her.” His smile turns nostalgic. “I was having a hard time back then. But this girl,” he chuckles as if in disbelief. “— just straight up grabbed my notebook and drew a shooting star on it, saying I should wish on this star since seeing a shooting star is not that common here.”
There’s something sad but warm in Jimin’s tone as he talks about this girl. You can only assume that this girl is not in his life anymore. Or even in this world.
“I see…”
“As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually did it. Very frequently in all honesty. Whenever I’m having a hard time, I’d wish upon that star.”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
A week passes quickly and just like a normal day, you arrive back home just a quarter past eight. Tugging off your shoes near the doorway, you hear your dad calling from the living room.
“Yes?” Mindlessly, you step into the living room only to meet the stern glare from him.
“Where were you?” Your dad asks. “Do you have any idea what time it is now?”
“It’s around eight...”
“And your curfew?”
Furrowing your brows, you gape, “I thought that was back in high school.”
“That still applies until now. I expect you to come back before seven.” Then he repeats his question, “Where were you?”
“From my new part-time place.” You answer. “I thought I told you about it.”
“If you want a job, you can intern in the company for the summer,” your dad sighs. “There’s no need for part-time jobs.”
You should have known it would last just three days before you are missing your university life, or to be more specific living alone. With the constant nagging from your parents, you crave for silence for a period of time. One thing you have been missing quite badly you have to admit, which is why you took the job in the bakery. Away from the scrutinising stares of your parents.
Here it goes again.
“I don’t think I’m ready to start there, Dad,” you exhale. “I want to do other things while I can.”
The same topic, the same debate you’d try to avoid as much as possible ever since you arrived back home for the summer. That was why you’d try to find something else to do. You always wanted to try a new hobby over the holidays. Now, with the excess amount of time in your hands, you are able to try.
That is why you opt for the part time job Jungkook found — working in the bakery.
“This isn’t going to work if you get home after your curfew, Y/N. You know how dangerous it is if you come home late.”
“I’m an adult now,” you reply, exasperatedly. “I can take care—”
“Things can get unpredictable, Y/N. It’s better that you’re safe than sorry.”
“Dad, when will you stop reminding me of that?” You groan in annoyance. “I don’t even remember how the accident happened.”
“The more reason for you to be cautious!”
Exasperated, you storm up to your room and carelessly throw your bag on the side of your bed. Laying on your back, you stare at the ceiling as your thoughts muddle when you try to think of what happened.
All you remember back then is that you woke up in the hospital, met with the worried gaze of your parents as soon as you got your consciousness back. However, they never tell or fill you in on what happened.
Gradually, your eyelids grow heavier — exhausted from the day and the burst of negative emotions over the argument you had earlier. Thus, you succumb to sleep. However, your mind takes you elsewhere.
Everything is dark.
With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.
There are no memories of what happened beforehand. All you know is to stay there and wait.
“Y/N?”
Peeking out of your hiding place, the figure draws closer calling your name in another hushed whisper.
But you knew this voice. So, you whispered back, “Here...” As soon as you get out of your hiding place, a warm embrace envelops your small frame.
“We’re okay, everything’s okay. I’ve lost them. We’re safe now,” he whispers, stroking your head softly while your fists clench on his shirt.
Not a moment later, your tears start to fall and you sob into his shirt. He tightens his hold on you, one hand on the back of your head as he repeatedly whispers, “It’s okay, I’m here.”
“I’m here...” His voice then seems to echo and your surrounding becomes a blur.
When you open your eyes, you realise you’re back in your room yet there are stray tears in your eyes. Sitting up on your bed, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.
Was that a memory…?
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“Have a good day.” You bid the last customer of the day farewell and once they leave, your cheeks droop into a frown. With a sigh, you walk out of the cashier register place towards the front door, turning the ‘Open’ plate to ‘Close’.
The dream you had last night still felt so vivid that you considered it was a flashback of your memory loss. You wanted to ask your parents about it. However, yesterday’s conflict was still fresh. You were sure they would dismiss it.
After cleaning up the counters of the bakery café and mopping the floors, you trudge into the break room, sitting down on one of its chairs as you wait for Jimin’s return from his “errand”.
Your mind takes you back to the dream where someone was hugging you tight.
Who was it? you wonder. In the back of your mind, somehow you never felt his warmth among your high school friends. The guy who was holding you is just different.
You are so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t realise Jimin entering until he brings something right in front of your face. “What—”
“Hot chocolate,” he answers, softly. “You seem distracted today, I thought this might cheer you up.”
Taking the steaming cup from him, you mutter your thanks before breathing in the sweet smell, blowing softly on the beverage. “That was fast.”
“Hmm?”
“Wait, did you go out to buy this?” You lift the warm cup of hot chocolate.
Jimin lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “I wanted to make you one. Until I realised that the ingredients are finished. So, I had to run out.”
“You didn’t have to, you know…”
“I know. But I wanted to anyway.”
Your eyes look down, can’t help feeling touched by his sweet gesture as you fight back to keep yourself from blushing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He must have noticed the change of your expression before he says quickly, “Only if you’re comfortable, of course! I just thought talking about what’s on your mind can ease you. At least a bit.”
Blinking your eyes twice, a chuckle escapes your lips. “I guess so.”
“That’s your first smile today.”
You raise a brow at him.
“Your first real smile, I mean. Your cheekbones do not have much tension if you’re genuinely happy whereas if you fake a smile, it seems more like you’re cringing. Like our first encounter.” He chuckles, meaningfully.
“I’m sorry...��� you mumble, eyes glancing down at the steaming hot chocolate on your lap.
“That’s fine,” he says easily. “Everyone has their bad days.”
You smile slightly at his words. “Had a fight with my parents last night.”
Jimin stays quiet, still listening to you.
“They are always so protective when it comes to me. Maybe a bit too much at times. I’m a grown adult for fuck’s sake.” Another sigh escapes your lips before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “My dad especially. He made it sound like a big deal when I came home around eight. I’m just frustrated at this.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
You nod in response.
“Was there something that made your dad feel that way?”
“I...” You blink. “I guess it’s because that one time I ended up in the hospital?”
“You did?”
You nod. “A few years ago, I had an accident.”
Jimin stiffens at your words. “Oh?”
“But it was nothing. I didn’t even remember what happened in all honesty.”
He stutters, “W-What?”
“I lost my memories. I had no recall of the accident at all.” Eyes training blankly on your front, focusing on nothing as you dive back into your memories. “My parents told me there is nothing to worry about and my memories would come back gradually. They never filled me in on what happened too.”
The corner of his lips soon quirks up slightly, his expression wistful. “Maybe they wouldn’t want you to be traumatised by what happened. It’s already fortunate enough for you to be able to recover from your head injury.”
“Yeah... I guess so,” you mumble.
However, since that incident you can’t deny the feeling of something missing since a chunk of your life has been cut off. No memories of the accident have returned even after years. Recovering from the head injury—
“Wait—” Head snapping to face Jimin. “How did you know I had a head injury?”
Jimin blinks repeatedly, as if your words just sink in. “Ah! I mean isn’t it a head injury? You lost your memories after all.” An awkward laugh escapes his lips. “Usually, people who lost their memories have head injuries, right?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Anyways, finish the hot chocolate and you should head home before your parents—”
Suddenly, a wave of deja vu washes over you. Snapping your gaze from the hot chocolate in your hands, you look at Jimin as your brain starts to grow fuzzy at the familiarity of Jimin’s words.
“Jimin...” you begin.
“Huh?”
“Have we ever met before I started working here?”
“You mean the first time you came into this bakery?”
You shake your head. “No, even before that. Did we know each other?”
A surprised glint appears in his eyes before it dissipates as quick as it appears. “I don’t think so…?”
Oh.
“Maybe we’ve just ran into each other at some point in town. But I don’t think we ever knew each other.”
“I see...” Disappointment floods through you at his words.
Right, you thought to yourself. If he was a close friend he would have recognised you instantly when you came to his bakery.
“Oh, look at the time.” Jimin stands up. “You need to be home before dark, right?”
“It’s not a big deal—”
He shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’ve finished cleaning today. I just need to close up and check the supplies.”
“But—” Your words die in your throat when Jimin pats your head.
“You’ve worked hard today,” he grins at you.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“I’m home,” you call out to no one in particular before you hear your mother from the kitchen.
Once you reach the kitchen, your mother turns her head to see you. “Help me set the table, dinner’s almost ready.”
Nodding, you follow suit. “Where’s Dad?”
“Your father is still caught in a meeting. He’ll be home late.”
“I see,” you mutter, placing the silverwares on the table.
“How’s work?” your mother asks. “You’re home earlier than usual.”
“It’s great,” you answer. “The boss lets me off early.”
And you continue to talk about your day. From helping Jimin bake cakes and bread early in the morning, serving customers coffee and desserts, cleaning up the whole place, and enjoying the hot chocolate Jimin bought you earlier.
“He sounds like a nice guy,” your mom muses when you both sit at the dinner table.
“He is.” A smile appears on your face, remembering his sweet gesture and warm presence. Then your mind shifts to the conversation you had earlier, and what has been bothering you lately. “Mom?”
“Hmm…?”
“Five years ago, how did I end up in the hospital?”
Your mother noticeably stiffens at your question, ceases digging through her plate of food.
“You and Dad never filled me in. You both kept on saying that my memories will return eventually… Until now actually.” You let out a breath. “I think I’m old enough to know what really happened.”
Letting out a deep breath herself, your mother puts down her fork. “What do you remember?”
“I was at a playground and hiding… Then there’s someone who came to find me.” Met with silence from your mother, you continue, “Was it one of my friends?”
Shaking her head, your mother answers, “It wasn’t any of your high school friends.”
“Then who…?”
“You never mentioned his name. But you’d always talk about him back then.” Your mother sighs. “Go through the attic when you’re having a day off. You’ll find some of your old stuff I hid there. Make sure your father is not home.”
Standing up, you want to go there at once. However, your mother stops you. “Y/N, listen to me. Whatever you find there, if you… If anything hurts or feels just too much, I want you to stop, alright? You’re a grown adult and I trust you’ll prioritise your own health.”
Nodding wordlessly, you finish the remaining food on your plate.
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[ when you were fifteen years old: after the incident ]
When the dismissal bell rings, some students instantly scramble from their desks, some stretch lazily on their seats and have conversations with others.
“Hey, Y/N.” One of your classmates calls you, a smile etched on her face. “So glad to have you back.”
“Yeah! This sem has been a pain in the ass. You’ll get through it in a breeze!” Another classmate adds.
You respond with a grateful smile of your own before packing up your things.
It hasn’t been that long since you were released from the hospital. You have persistently insisted your parents to let you go back to school and they finally relented after you promised them that you’ll go straight back home and to not strain yourself after dismissing your parents’ idea of hiring a driver.
Today is your first day back. Your friends greeted you excitedly when you stepped into the classroom. Even those who you recall never talked much with you greeted you with a ‘Hi’.
Walking mindlessly through the streets of your neighbourhood, your legs take you to a cafe as you recognise the familiar scent of coffee.
Tilting your head in confusion, you stare at the cafe building in shades of black and brown.
What exactly are you doing here?
There were no planned meetups with your friends, yet, your body seems to find its way here. Fishing out your phone, you scan through the past messages to double check any planned hangouts.
It’s a Wednesday.
But…
With the curiosity nagging inside you, you search for Beomgyu’s contact.
[ 4:05 PM ] You: beomie, do you know the cafe near my place?
[ 4:05 PM ] Beomgyu: i guess?? Every wednesday you'd always go there for no apparent reason at all. When i wanted to tag along you’d always give me the devil eye :(
[ 4:05 PM ] You: oh… that’s… well, sorry lol. Do u wanna come here?
[ 4:06 PM ] Beomgyu: wait, r u srs ???
[ 4:06 PM ] You: i mean if u’re not busy and i think getting coffee and hanging in the cafe would be good.
[ 4:07 PM ] Beomgyu: i'd never thought this day would come :’) i’ll be there in 10.
Chuckling at your friend’s response, you place your phone back into your pocket. Exhaling, you enter the cafe and make your way towards the cashier register.
“Welcome, what would you like for today?” The person smiles at you.
“Caramel macchiato, please.”
She nods, typing in your order. “That will be four dollars.”
After exchanging your payment with a receipt, you wait at an empty table for two near the window. Something about this familiar place, however, feels off. Like there is something missing that you can’t seem to put your finger on.
Your thoughts are cut off when someone takes the seat across from you. “Why are you so deep in thought?”
Beomgyu stares at you quizzically as you blink in realisation. “Uh…”
He narrows his stare at you suspiciously before shifting his gaze around the cafe. “So, what is it that kept you going here?”
You shake your head in response. “I have no idea either. Honestly, I have this gut feeling to come here when I passed by earlier.”
“Hmm, maybe the coffee?” Beomgyu watches one of the waitresses bringing your orders, placing it on your table.
Sighing, you stare at the steaming cup with caramel drizzles on the foam for a few moments. Then you bring the cup to your lips to take a sip.
“Argh, why is this bitter?” Scrunching your nose, you motion towards the waitress for extra caramel.
“Did… Your taste buds change too? You said the caramel macchiato here is perfect.”
A snort escapes you as you drizzle more caramel into the coffee. “I got hit in the damn head, Beomie. It doesn’t change my taste buds.”
He shrugs. “Well, who knows. I never knew you like caramel that much.”
You freeze momentarily.
“Y/N? You okay?” Beomgyu waves a hand in front of your face.
“Y-yeah, I just…”
“You just…?”
Shaking your head once more, you whisper, “It’s nothing…” But your eyes scan through the busy workers in the cafe.
Deep inside, you had an inkling that the coffee here isn’t your sole reason for coming here.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Turns out you were right.
Once when you came into the cafe on another Wednesday, you sat at your usual place after ordering your usual drink.
“Oh, my dear, you’re finally back,” someone says.
Blinking, your gaze snaps to the elder woman — maybe around her mid fifties — and you give her a small smile before asking, “Do I know you...?”
It was her turn to look confused at your words.
“I’m really sorry for not recognising!” You grow flustered at your words. “I lost my memory in an accident a few months ago...”
“Oh, that’s awful!” The lady — a regular customer, you assume — gasps. “So that’s why you don’t frequent this cafe anymore. The young man looked so heartbroken before he quit his job—”
“Young man?”
“The barista, dear,” the lady replies. “You used to come here and meet him. I had to shush the both of you every time to not disturb the other customers.”
“I... Was he from my school?”
The lady shakes her head. “I don’t think so. He never wore a uniform like yours.”
“Do you know his name?”
The lady shakes her head once more. “His name was Park. Probably that’s his last name. At least that’s what is written on his name tag.”
And you internally groan. There are thousands of people with that last name.
“Do you know where he’s gone?”
“I’m afraid no, my dear. I heard he quit the job suddenly.”
Sighing, you thanked the lady before heading out of the cafe with your shoulders dropping in defeat.
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The trapdoor makes a loud creaking sound when you lift it up, indicating that it hasn’t been used for a very long time. Slipping the key back to your back pocket, you step up further on the ladder with the trap door laying on another side as you go through it while the floorboards creak underneath your weight.
It didn’t take you long to locate your old things. Scanning through the boxes, you find one doodled in various flowers and rainbows with your name written on it as well.
With a grunt, you lift up the dusty box, bringing it down to the floor with a thud which causes you to cough at the flying dust. In an attempt to swat the dust away, you wave your hand in front of you. Still coughing uncontrollably with your eyes watering. After your cough ceases, you crouch and open the box. A few notebooks can be found inside along with some old dolls from your childhood.
You vaguely remember the locked diary you liked to write in about your day and its pale pink cover which was covered in sparkling stickers you used to be obsessed with.
Digging further through the books, you finally found it — the possible answer to your lost memories — with a small key dangling on the lock.
Climbing down from the attic, you made your way to your room while fumbling with the lock and key of your old diary. After successfully unlocking it, you take a seat on your padded window sill, flipping through the yellowing pages.
The first page was clearly written by you. Your old handwriting and your name. The first entry you wrote dates back to a decade ago.
Your fingers twitch at how cringe-y most of the entries are. Yet, at the same time you find it endearing how you used to write about your day. The good, the bad, and the normal things — appreciating just to be able to experience and get through them.
The last of your entries date back to months before the incident when you were fifteen. Probably because you decided that you were too old to write diaries any longer.
Recalling how you’d always visit the cafe every Wednesday, you skim through Wednesday entries. However one particular name seems to stand out in those entries.
“Mochi?” You flip from one entry to another. Who the hell is that?
Deciding to get to the bottom of this, you search for the earliest entry that you can find — nine years ago.
I met the hot choco guy again, today. I’m feeling so happy!!! He is so nice. why can’t any of the boys in my school be like him????
Hot... Choco? Furrowing your brows, you skip to the next Wednesday entry.
i am feeling so happy that mama brought me to the cafe last last week!!! she do not let me drink the coffee drink, so Mochi give me hot choco! i think it’s the best BEST drink EVER!!!
“How the hell did hot choco guy turn into Mochi?” you mumble to yourself, flipping through your diary to the next Wednesday entry.
Mochi teached me how to do math!!! It was so fun! But when Teacher Lee teaches me, it’s always boring. How did Mochi make math fun??? I wish he go to my school instead and teach me math :(
You internally cringe at your younger self. Exhaling, you press your temple in disbelief.
This whole diary of your younger self is basically gushing over this hot-choco-turned-Mochi guy as you flip through other pages. However, you stop at a certain entry.
Today… Is a very bad day. But Mochi suddenly makes it better.
Glancing at the date — it was the day your grandmother passed away.
He promises to make me cinnamon rolls whenever i tell him to! Just like Grannie… I’m sorry, Diary. I don’t think i can write more today. I just hope tomorrow will be a better day.
“Mochi…” you mumble repeatedly with furrowing brows and the name seems to trigger your brain to relive some memories.
“I’m calling you Mochi!” You hear your own twelve-year old voice. Yelping, your diary lands on the floor with a small thud.
“No!” Another voice rings in your head — familiar and warm. “That’s a really uncool nickname.”
“But you look like a mochi! And it’s not uncool! I think it’s really cute!”
Blinking, your mind brings you back to reality. Reaching down for your diary, you freeze momentarily before clutching your head. For a moment, your heart stops when your gaze lands on your diary’s open page — a drawing of a familiar shooting star.
Mochi is… Jimin?
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[ when you were twelve ]
When another sigh escaped his lips, you glanced up from your math workbook — his face can only be described as perturbed. With no hesitance, you quietly pushed the last cookie on your plate to him, earning his glassy stare as it shifted from his notebook that’s lying open on the table.
He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you finish that? Do you want to bring it home?”
You shook your head, heat tinging your cheeks. “It’s for you. You look like you need it.”
“It’s caramel cookies.”
Nodding, you mumbled, “You said eating it can comfort people.”
The boy stared at you for a moment longer — recalling the time when you had a bad day and he gave you that, then he chuckled. “I guess I did.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded again. “I can order hot chocolate for you too.”
He reached for the last cookie, finally a small smile you have awaited appearing on his face. “This is enough, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Thanks.”
You beamed at his words, then you extended one hand to take his notebook and draw a shooting star on the page it was opened on.
“We can’t really see shooting stars in here,” you explain, pushing his notebook back to him. “So, whenever you’re having a hard time, wish on this shooting star! It represents hopes and wishes!”
“What that’s—” He stopped himself. Letting out a sigh, he found himself nodding despite how ridiculously endearing the idea was. “Alright. I will.”
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The blare of your alarm jolts you awake. Groaning, you grab your phone, turning off the alarm when you realise you have to go to work. You can’t find it in yourself to see Jimin today. Not after finding out that he was, is, part of your missing childhood memories.
Your gaze lands on the diary, laying open on your window sill. As you read more and more of your diary entries, Mochi being Jimin just makes sense. You remember how he went out of his way just to buy you hot chocolate when you were having a bad day — just like in the past.
After all this time, Jimin is actually part of, no, in most of your childhood life.
And he denied it.
Why?
You continuously drift back to that one question. Why did he deny it when you asked him? Don’t people usually love to get reacquainted with their childhood friends?
Sighing, you message Jimin listlessly, telling him you aren’t feeling well before you turn off your phone completely. You don’t think you can handle interacting more with him.
Hours passed, when someone barges in your room. “Y/N!”
Peeking out from your blanket, you glare at your best friend. “What the fuck, Kook?”
“Jimin told me you aren’t feeling well. So, I came to check up on you.”
“Okay, you did. Now, go back home.”
Without responding, he opens the curtain in your room, letting in the piercing sunlight and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’.
Should have known your best friend isn’t going to let this go easily.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been off the whole weekend. You may be able to trick Jimin but you can’t trick me.”
Still burying yourself under your blanket, the bed dips on your friend’s weight as he waits for your response. But you keep your silence, trying your best to even your breathing. You’ve cried enough after all.
“Hmm?” Jungkook stands up. “What’s this? Your diary?”
Abruptly, you fling yourself off the bed and grab your diary from his clutches.
“Go home, Jungkook. I’m not in the mood to deal with this.”
“You know I won’t until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m just...” Your shoulders droop in defeat. “Why?”
“Why what?”
You hate crying in front of anyone. But it’s as if a dam broke, your tears do not stop falling while you babble, “Why did he pretend to not know me? Why did he deny? Why—”
Jungkook blinks repeatedly at your sudden change. “W-wait! Why are you crying? I don’t under—”
“Park Jimin!” Your sudden outburst flusters him further. “The guy who you’re friends with and who you recommended for me to work with! That’s who!”
“But—”
“He‘s Mochi.”
Jungkook looks dumbfounded for a moment before your words register inside his head. “M-Mochi?”
Like a petulant child, you climb on your bed once more and hide your diary beneath your pillow. “Leave me alone, Kook.”
With a defeated sigh, Jungkook trudges out of your room, leaving you once again drowning in your thoughts.
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Jimin has always loved mornings, especially when he is able to quietly bake on what most people would call ungodly hours. There is something enjoyable about being fully awake during this time when no sounds of passing vehicles can distract him, making him feel at ease.
He had started appreciating the little things in life when you — who once stared up at him with curious eyes, expression lightening up when he made a cup of hot chocolate for you — taught him to.
Chuckling to himself, his mind drifts back to the time you first entered his bakery. Gods, he should have known it was you. But you were so different, he could hardly comprehend how much you had grown.
Gone was your happy-go-lucky self. He was stunned when you suddenly snapped at him. Your younger self would probably respond with a smile and drone on about how much you love cinnamon rolls. For a second, his heart had hoped. Maybe you remembered him after all these years?
Yet that hope dissipated in an instant when you merely apologised and ran out. Moreover, you didn’t return to his bakery after buying the cinnamon rolls, he thought he had screwed things up by attempting to start a conversation with you. Or maybe that person wasn’t really you. Just someone who looks a lot like you. He still had his suspicions after all.
However, his suspicions were gone the moment you introduced yourself, leaving him speechless. Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t hope — at least for a bit — that you would remember him when he mentioned his name.
That was why the moment you appeared once more to work as a part-timer, he was ecstatic. No words can explain it.
He started to look forward to work every day — coming to his own bakery to see you even when you didn’t remember him, but he would still gladly take whatever he can to be around you.
Once he sets the tray of unbaked cinnamon rolls into the oven, his phone buzzes. As soon as he reads the text, his heart drops a little.
[ 7:08 AM ] You: Sorry, I cant come to work today. Not feeling well.
He types, ‘That’s okay. get well soon, y/n :)’
But it left undelivered. Did your phone die? He wonders.
Jimin can’t help shake the weird feeling bubbling inside. So, he messages Jungkook.
[ 7:15 AM ] Jimin: y/n isn’t feeling well today. do u mind checking up on her ???
But of course, Jungkook didn’t read the message until a few hours later. That boy enjoys gaming all night.
[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: what?
[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: for real ?? since when does she get sick? that girl has a fucking high immunity. she never even once got a cold during the semester
Jimin furrowed his brows at that.
[ 12:04 PM ] Jimin: still, go check up on her pls. she’s ur friend too
[ 12:04 PM ] Jungkook: yeah, omw
It hasn’t even been an hour later when Jungkook rushes into the bakery — earning surprised and curious glances from the customers who were chattering among themselves. “Hyung—“ he catches his breath as he stands in front of the counter. “I think you need to fix—“ Huff. “—I mean go to Y/N’s house yourself.
Jimin blinks in confusion.
“You... You’re Mochi, aren’t you?”
At the mention of that name, blood drains from Jimin’s face instantly.
She remembers...?
“How did you—”
“What matters is, you need to fix it, hyung. You’re the only one who can. She’s not herself, right now. I've known her for a few years and it takes a lot for her to react like this. So, please, you should talk about it.”
“Okay,” Jimin breathes out. “Do you mind closing the cafe once the customers are all done?”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, just go to her, hyung. I’ll handle everything here.”
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[ when you were fifteen: before the accident ]
“I wish you can teach me math all the time, Mochi,” you giggle, leaning back on the cafe chair. “Everything is easier when you explain it.”
Jimin chuckles at that. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one not paying attention in class.”
Shaking your head rapidly, you deny, “Of course I paid attention! It’s just... I don’t know… It was really boring when my teacher was teaching. He just drones on and on without stopping.”
With an amused hum, Jimin stands up. “I’ll get ready to leave. I’ll walk you home.”
After a few minutes, you head out of the cafe with Jimin behind you. Shivering against the cool night air, you draw closer to the boy. Instinctively, Jimin offers you his open hand which you accepted with no hesitance.
Little did he know, every time he does this, it makes your heart beat a little faster at the way your hand fits well in his. And you savour it.
The build up of feelings has been going on for a while now. Maybe a few months. You’ve developed a crush on him. Like, how can you not? Jimin possesses charming qualities that no one else has. Not to mention how kind and warm of a person he is.
Meetings in the cafe had you wishing they were dates instead. And you had to let him know.
And tell him you did.
He blinks at first, words sinking into him. Mochi, I think I like you. Like, really, really like you.
His cheeks are pink, you weren’t sure if it's from the cold or his embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
Of course. What were you expecting? He only sees you as a little sister.
“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, but your heart drops. “It’s just… You know, I wanted to tell you know because you’re really cool, Mochi.”
“Y/N… Listen, this is not a good time—” Abruptly, he stops, catching your wrist on his. “I want you to hide in the playground.”
“What?”
“Hide, please. I will explain everything later.”
You want to run away from him. But the pleading look on his face makes you listen.
“There he is!” You hear an unfamiliar shout.
Cursing under his breath, Jimin quickly pushes you under the slide. “Wait here.”
With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.
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[ Present time ]
Jimin reaches your house, his heart beating fast against his chest with a box of cinnamon rolls in hand.
You are home alone and Jungkook has left the door unlocked.
Letting himself in, Jimin glances around. Everything still looks the same as back then. He went to your house once to tutor you. And he still can remember that day clearly.
Climbing up the stairs, he reaches your room. With shaking hands, he knocks on the door.
Silence.
A moment or two passes then your door opens. Jimin braces for the anger you’d throw at him.
But nothing comes.
You merely stand there, eyes glassy as they lock on his.
“Y/N...” He mutters, torn between to reach out or not. But you leave the door open as you sit on your bed. Jimin enters your familiar room, still surprised at how it still looks the same. And his eyes fall on a notebook — the notebook you never let him read — on the table.
“Why are you here?” you ask, voice trembling.
“I wanted to check up on you—”
“Why?”
Jimin knows at once what you are asking.
He approaches you sitting on the edge of the bed. He kneels down, peering up with those chocolate eyes of his to meet your downcast stare — like those times when he wants to talk to you and you refuse to look at him.
“Do… Do you still remember me?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper.
“Y/N…” The lack of surprise in his voice answers it. He still remembers you as you recall the once shocked expression on his face when you first introduce yourself. Now, it all made sense.
“W-Why didn’t you tell me?” A sob escapes your lips. “Do you not want me to remember—”
He shakes his head, denying it quickly. “No! Of course not. I just… I was ecstatic actually when it was you who came to work for me.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Voice cracking. “You knew me—”
Clearly in conflict, he sighs, “I don’t want you to remember your traumatic memories… Remembering me might cause you more pain.”
“But it didn’t. Those memories, from what I can remember there’s nothing—”
“That’s what your parents told me, Y/N.”
Eyes widening, you gape at him as tears cascade down your face.
“You were seriously injured back then. The doctor said it will be best for you to let your own memories come to you in their own time. And I had to leave this place... I came by after your operation and... I wanted to say goodbye but I was told it was best to not see you any longer to prevent anymore distress—”
“But you are important to me!” You cut him off. Then turning quieter, “You are important to me…”  You say between sobs.
Covering your eyes with your hand, you whimper when Jimin engulfs you in a hug. “I’m sorry…” He murmurs, caressing your head. “I’m so sorry…”
His heart breaks at your current state, tightening his hold on you, who’s crying into his chest. Years of buried regret and longing resurface. He had envisioned many times on how you would remember him. But he fails to realise how much it can hurt you when your memories return. If only he can turn back time, he will take that chance to save you from the misery of your memory loss.
Yet, all he can do now is to hold you close, begging you for forgiveness and hope that you’d let him stay by your side.
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“So, let me get this straight, you—” Jungkook points his straw at you. “—and Jimin hyung were childhood friends—” He pierces the plastic cover of his milk tea. “—and he used to tutor you in a cafe.”
Nodding, you purse your lips and enjoy your own drink.
You had taken a few days off after the reconciliation to collect your thoughts and confront your parents about what had happened. They have come into terms with their protectiveness of you staying out very late. And you have managed to convince them to let you stay out late as long as you let them know.
You were planning to stay in bed all day if it wasn’t for Jungkook who barged into your room like he owns the place, after he claimed that Jimin lets him off from work early — which you doubt honestly, it’s more of Jungkook escaping from work — and decided to drag you to the nearest milk tea shop.
“Is something weird?” you blurt out.
“Did you by any chance, I don’t know...” Jungkook mutters. “Have feelings for each other?”
You nearly choke on your tapioca pearl and rapidly you shake your head. “No! That’s—”
Jungkook narrows his stare at you, sipping his drink as you continue to blabber, “I mean, I knew him since I was like, what? Twelve? He never sees me that way.”
“Maybe he didn’t back then.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean both of you are adults now. Aren’t things different?”
You snort at his words. “He always sees the little girl in me, Jungkook. So, please, don’t make things weird, alright? I can literally see your head gearing.”
Jungkook lets out a sigh. “Alright, if you say so. But how about you?”
Sipping your drink, you lift a brow at him.
“Do you like him?”
“Of course, I do.”
“I meant like, like him.”
“Kookie, what are you? Five?”
He snorts at your response. “Five heads taller than you—” Your glare shuts him up. “Okay, but do you see him as someone special?”
An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. “Why are we discussing this? We’re just friends. Who coincidentally are childhood friends as well.”
“You sure?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh once more. “What are you expecting me to say?”
“What do you think of him?”
Almost at once, the words flow easily out of your mouth. “He’s a caring person and he knows how to comfort someone when they’re having a bad day.”
“You mean, he knows how to comfort you when you’re having a bad day yourself,” Jungkook chuckles.
You blink at that.
“Look, I’m not implying anything but he was worried as hell when I told him about you the other day. Even nearly left his bakery without supervision. That’s when yours truly—” He points at himself. “—came in.”
And the question that swims in the back of your mind disappears. “So, it is you, you overgrown rabbit. You told him about me—”
“Well, you can’t blame me. You should be thanking me instead. It’s because of me you both finally reconciled. Admit it, you’re happy — happier, in fact.”
And you can’t deny it. Jungkook has been one of those people who’d look out for you. Yes, even when he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, or just loves to hear the “piping hot” tea of what’s happening in your life.
Sighing in defeat, you murmur, “Even if I do like him...” You shake your head. “No, it shouldn’t even matter in the first place.”
Noticing your shuttering expression, Jungkook thankfully does not press the subject further. Nor does he question why. And you are grateful for him.
“Interesting. So, you do like him.”
Scratch that, your best friend is still a pain in the ass.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Standing in front of the bakery cafe, you released a deep breath.
Through the glass door, Jungkook is helping out at the cashier counter, serving beverages and desserts to dine-in customers. However, Jimin is nowhere in sight.
Releasing a deep breath, the bell of the door rings which signals your entrance. Jungkook notices you at once before he points to the kitchen.
You rush inside — stopping abruptly a few steps away from him — now, regarding the man differently. He was the boy who has been your comfort for so many occasions after all.
Jimin is icing cupcakes, his eyes focusing on his task and you can’t help but smile at the sight.
With your memories — of kindness, warmth, and friendship — now fully returned, you remember how you were always enamoured watching Jimin work. You’d watch him make drinks in the cafe when you had no homework to do. You’d sit at the bar, munching on cookies-of-the-day as your eyes followed Jimin’s movements.
A few moments pass, Jimin’s gaze shifts to you briefly and double-takes. He curses under his breath, cupcake slipping from his grip — icing spilling on the marble counter. “Hey, you’re back—” He quickly grabs a cloth and wipes off the cream before he turns to face you properly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “—you didn’t tell me you’re coming in today.”
He opens his arms and your legs move of its own accord, following your instinct as you close the distance between you and him — wrapping your arms around his waist.
You weren’t surprised at how your younger self used to have a big fat crush on him. He was and always will still be your Mochi. The guy who treated you to your favourite sweets, who knows how you like your caramel macchiato the best, and who never fails to put butterflies in your stomach.
Breathing his sweet scent, you remember the time you’d ask him for hugs whenever you were down and your younger self had even claimed once that his hugs were magical as it was written in your diary. To quote it, “Mochi gives the BEST BEST hugs in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD”.
“Your hugs…” you mumble, eyes closed. “They’re still the best…”
Jimin merely tightens his hold on you. That is until a force — appearing in the form of Jeon Jungkook — shatters the serene atmosphere, bringing you back to reality. “Hyung! Oh—”
Abruptly, you both pull away from each other. Jungkook stands awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to another.
“What is it?” Jimin breaks the silence, composed as ever.
“Uh, need more cupcakes. The ones on the display are finished…”
“Right,” Jimin turns to you. “Y/N, can you help me ice the rest of the cupcakes?”
Nodding, you turn to the employee’s room, putting your things in the locker and grabbing an apron.
Hugging Jimin seems so natural that you fail to consider how weird it looks to the people around you. Jungkook’s awkward silence proves that.
Your thoughts are swimming in confusion. And once again those butterflies appear in your stomach. Fanning your heated cheeks with your hands, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
Your childhood crush is gone. You’re just happy to have Mochi back in your life. That’s all. That should be all.
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One afternoon, you mindlessly clean up the kitchen. Due to the public holiday, the bakery is closing earlier, and your thoughts have drifted back to the past.
You remember the night of the incident when Jimin walked you home after he had lost those men who chased after him. He stopped you for a moment, breaking the silence. “You okay?” Warm concern lacing his tone.
Jaw clenching, you mumbled. “Just a scratch.” Reluctant to give him any longer response.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have shoved you harshly before.” He crouched, inspecting your knees before he peered up to meet your stare.
“It’s fine.”
When you were just a few blocks away from home, Jimin broke the silence. “Listen Y/N—” His footsteps faltered as he reached to touch your shoulder. “—about earlier, I think you shouldn’t have feelings for me, I—”
Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his, hurt consuming you. “I shouldn’t have feelings for you?”
You wished Jimin had forgotten your spontaneous confession as he nodded, hesitantly.
“Well, I can’t control my feelings. So, just let it be. It’ll be fine.” You glanced at him before walking faster.
The rest of the trip home was tense, full of unanswered questions. Who were those men? Why did they chase after Jimin? Is it really that bad to have feelings for him? Who gave him the right to dictate your feelings?
You felt so childish back then. Recalling the memories makes you cringe at your younger self for overreacting. But you suppose it’s normal for a fifteen year-old girl. And you were able to sense that Jimin wanted to ease the tense atmosphere. But you were too hurt to even give him a chance. You needed time to process what happened that day.
However, one minute Jimin had stopped you again, desperate to appease you. And the next minute, someone ran towards him with a bat in hand. It’s as if time slowed down, you moved before a harsh impact landed on you.
Your mind brings you back to reality, and instinctively you touch the part where your head was struck with your free hand.
“Y/N? Are you done cleaning up?”
Jimin’s voice startles you and you nearly drop the mop’s handle from your grasp.
“Yes,” you manage to say. And somehow you can’t look at him in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” Out of instinct, he cups your face to look at you in the eye. And hell, your heartbeat gradually increases as you can smell the sweet scent of bread from him along with a tinge of his cinnamon scent.
Mind blanking out at the close proximity, the only intelligible response you can say is, uhhh. Your grip on the mop handle tightens as your palm grows clammy.
He’s gorgeous. That’s one thing for sure.
“Hey, why are you blushing?”
Blinking rapidly, you watch his eyes turn into those crescent moons and a giggle escapes his lips as he pulls away, grabbing the mop from your hold.
“I’ll put this back. You nearly snapped it in half, you know.”
“Yeah,” you nod, mind whirling and you blabber the first thing in your mind. “I have a pet fish.”
“Huh?”
Realising how random you sounded, you clear your throat. “I just remember I had to come home early today, since Mr. Goldy is waiting for me.”
“Ooh, that’s—”
But you’ve run for the lockers, quickly changing out of your work attire.
“Thanks for today, Mochi. See you tomorrow!” You say and run out of the bakery without sparing him another glance.
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“What are you exactly doing here?”
Unflinching, you answer your best friend monotonously, “Buying a fish.”
“You don’t have a tank at home.”
“Exactly, that’s why I’m looking for one now.”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
Jungkook lets out a sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all week, Y/N.”
You ignore his words, eyes scanning through the fishes of different colours and kinds.
“Oh! These ones are pretty.” Jungkook comments, earning your attention.
“Excuse me?” You call one of the workers there. “I was wondering if this fish is suitable for beginners.”
The worker nods, smiling. “Yes, these are what we call the Betta fish. Their scales are beautiful and they are also easy to take care of. Would you like to purchase them?”
You respond with a brief ‘yes’.
“Now, all you need is a tank,” Jungkook says.
“We provide delivery services for the tank. I’d recommend buying this one.” The worker points at one of the tanks. “In the meantime, you can purchase the fishbowl for now.”
And with that you have a new pet fish and a brand new fish bowl in hand — specifically Jungkook’s, because you gotta put those muscles into good use — and you head back home. On the way back, Jungkook suddenly clears his throat. “So… What’s up with you?”
“What?”
“Let me summarise what just happened,” he says. “I had the day off today, and suddenly you called me to meet you in a fish store, and you have been acting all weird and somehow out of all the nice shades of blue fishes in the tank, you chose the ugly yellow—”
You kick his shin in retaliation. “It’s not yellow, it’s gold, dumbass. How dare you say that in front of Lady Goldilocks.”
“Oh, wow, now it even has a name.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you chose this one out of all the other colours. It reminds me of Jimin hyung—” And he gapes at you. “No way. Is it because he likes this colour?”
You blink in realisation. Jimin does like this colour.
“Okay, ‘fess up. What’s up with you?”
You let out a defeated sigh. “I like him.”
Jungkook looks unamused.
“I mean like, like him. And I need to get over him.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why would Hyung want that?””
“I shouldn’t like him, Kook. He told me once and, I don’t know, I just can’t control my feelings. I don’t want to lose him again and I’m scared that he’ll be gone if he knows—”
“Wait, wait, wait—” Jungkook grasps your shoulder with his free hand. “—I can understand what you’re feeling, Y/N. How about let me prove to you that Jimin won’t be gone even when you have feelings for him?”
“I swear, Jeon Jungkook, if you utter a single word about this conversation—”
“No!” He denies repeatedly. “I won’t. Promise. I can prove it to you another way. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, then. How?”
“I have a plan. To take the title as your number one best friend once and for all—”
“Who says you are even at the top?”
“Aren’t I? You told me once.” Jungkook fishes his phone out of his jacket, taps a few times on his screen before he shows you a video of your drunk self a few months ago after exam week.
“Kookieee, I think you’re my number one best friend! So proud to have someone like you in my life—”
You try to reach for his phone, cheeks burning in embarrassment, as you shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster. However, Jungkook being Jungkook merely cackles at that. Your voice from the video still continues, “—you’re like Mochi—” Your present self tenses at that.
“Who’s Mochi?” Jungkook asked curiously in the video.
“Shhhhh… We don’t speak of that name here, m’kay? Mochi is gone. So you are best friend number one!”
Jungkook stops the video, tucking his phone back to his pocket. “I asked you once who Mochi was when you were sober. But you didn’t remember back then. So I never asked again until you mentioned the name ‘Mochi’ once more a few days ago.”
Gaping, you stop walking as the stunned silence falls over you.
“I think your subconscious had always known about him. And it shows how special he is to you.” When you’re about to deny that, Jungkook shushes you. “Don’t try to deny, Y/N. Even before you knew he was Mochi you already liked him.”
“I hate that you’re starting to look like a rooster. Were you always this cocky?”
Your best friend merely shrugs. “So, here’s the plan. As I was saying, with my ‘number one best friend’ title under threat, we’re going to demote Jimin as your boyfriend! It’s a win-win situation!”
“What? I never even asked for him to be my boyfriend but wait— Don’t you mean promote?”
“Y/N, as much as I love your dumb ass, you tend to be quite demanding with people. Hopefully, he knows how to handle your present self.”
“Jeon Jungkook, please don’t make me regret this.”
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A few days after the conversation with Jungkook, the boy gets to work as fast as possible, and by work, it means work to get on Jimin’s nerves instead of actually being helpful in the cafe.
Jungkook has become noticeably clingy, or overall, just more touchy with you. It’s not like it’s anything new in all honesty. Throughout college, the relationship between the both of you is purely platonic. Your other college friends knew this and seeing the both of you cuddle wouldn’t be a strange sight. Jimin, however, isn’t one of your college friends and Jungkook seems to have taken advantage of this. Thus, he begins to work in the bakery almost every day, claiming just to see you.
At first Jimin showed no reaction since Jungkook is a good friend of his. But he has grown visibly irritated lately while Jungkook revels in pressing the older one’s buttons further.
“Jungkook…”
“Hmm?”
“Can you please stop invading my personal space?”
“But it’s not going to work if I don’t— Oof!” You shove him away before going back to your task — placing the cupcakes on the display tray — annoyance building up at Jungkook’s disruptions.
“I’m going to file a restraining order on you at this rate.”
He huffs, moving towards you once more. “Don’t you want to prove that Jimin is going to be pissed if he sees me being affectionate to you?”
You shake your head. “I just want to work in peace.”
“Hmph. You’re no fun.”
“Cuz you’re the one not working.”
“Hey, I’m helping here voluntarily.”
You ignore his words, focusing on your task while Jungkook starts whining for you to give him attention. “Kook, I fucking swear if you don’t get your hands off—”
Jimin’s voice rings “Y/N, are the cupcakes...” He trails as soon as he enters the kitchen, freezing at the sight of Jungkook wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his dumb head on the crook of your neck.
“He’s going to rage,” Jungkook whispers, laughing softly.
“Uh, Jungkook can I talk to you?” Jimin asks, eyes noticeably narrowing as his tone tenses.
“Finally,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, before he lets go of you and faces Jimin. “Sure, Hyung.”
You take that cue to leave, bringing the freshly iced cupcakes to the display counter, leaving Jungkook and Jimin alone in the kitchen.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“What’s been going on with you lately? You come here to work everyday but all I can see is you busy flirting with Y/N.” Jimin throws the younger one an unamused glare.
Jungkook answers easily, “I do my job, Hyung. And so what if I do flirt with Y/N?”
“You can’t,” Jimin blurts out, earning a questioning look from Jungkook. “You just can’t.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Do you like Y/N?”
“Of course, she’s my best friend.”
Jimin shoots Jungkook another unamused look at his answer.
“I’m going to tell her how I feel in three days,” Jungkook continues.
Jimin’s stomach drops at that statement. However, at the same time the urge to let you know how he truly feels increases. But the thought of the impending rejection after hurting you and causing your memory loss makes him think twice.
Maybe Jungkook deserves you more than him — he can protect and support you while Jimin has failed.
With a shaky breath, Jimin mutters, “Take care of her, alright?”
Obviously, his response catches Jungkook off guard. “What?”
“Take good care of Y/N, JK. I’m seriously counting on you.”
“Wait—“ Jungkook looks downright flustered at the unexpected response. “Hyung, wait.”
“What?” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be confused.
Jungkook clears his throat. “Just give me an honest answer, hyung. No lies.”
A pause.
“Do you like Y/N? As in more than friends?”
Jimin nods without hesitance.
Jungkook mumbles something under his breath that Jimin is sure it sounds like, freaking idiots.
“Go tell her how you feel, Hyung. And tell her as soon as possible.”
“But you—”
“It’s to push you to confess to her. I don’t see Y/N that way.” Jungkook sighs. “Honestly, what would the both of you be without me?”
Jimin stands in the kitchen, speechless, as Jungkook continues to ramble how significant his role is in between your relationship and how you and Jimin owe him so much.
“So, yes, go tell her how you feel, hyung. She’ll listen to whatever you’ll say.”
With a newfound resolve, hope sparks in Jimin’s heart. “I will.”
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To say that Jimin is nervous would be an understatement. He had barely slept a wink last night, thinking of all the words and how he would explain why he had left so suddenly and confess his feelings to you. Jungkook has been a supportive friend, even if he does push Jimin’s buttons along the way. However, Jimin knows that it was his own way of showing encouragement.
You are cleaning the rest of the tables of the cafe and Jimin can’t take his eyes off you, staring at you through the small window opening between the kitchen and the counter area.
“Are we done for today, Mochi?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydream.
“Yeah!” Jimin continues to wipe the kitchen counter quickly, replying almost too enthusiastically before he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight, Y/N?”
You enter the kitchen and once again Jimin’s heartbeat rises. “Nope. I’m going straight back home after this. Lady Goldilocks is waiting for me.”
Lady Goldilocks. Jimin chuckles at the mention of your fish’s name. He wonders if one day he’s able to see the pet fish for himself. He had asked what happened to Mr Goldy and you had become flustered at that since you didn’t know the fish was female. So, now, you have changed the fish’s name. Yet, somehow Jimin got an inkling that there is more to the story. He had asked Jungkook — to which the boy had valiantly refused to utter a word about it and had babbled, “Huh? Fish? What fish? Is that for dinner?”
Once the both of you finished closing up the bakery cafe, Jimin taps on your shoulder before you had the chance to go back home.
“May I walk you home?”
You blink, processing his words then nodding rapidly. “S-Sure.”
Jimin smiles warmly at you. It’s easy in fact. Just being in your presence always brings happiness into his heart. You had grown into an amazing person and even more attractive.
Something about you had always captivated Jimin since the first time you met him in the cafe where he used to do his part time work. Your curious eyes were always following him as he took the customers’ orders and honestly, it was very endearing.
Comfortable silence falls upon you both, walking through the asphalt pathway and naturally, Jimin opens his palms, extending it towards you.
You stare at that for a moment and clasp his hand with yours. Jimin weaves your fingers together, bringing you closer to him as you continue to walk back home.
“Do you mind if we take a little detour?”
You nod at his words.
Once Jimin reaches the destination, he can sense your eyes glance curiously at the empty hill. He pulls you up onto the top of the hill, sitting down on the grass while he pats the space next to him and you follow suit.
“Look up,” Jimin whispers, and you did.
A quiet gasp escapes your lips at the sight of twinkling stars that scatters across the dark sky.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Jimin voices out. “Someone made me realise how beautiful the stars are…” He falters. “A-And she had never left my mind all those years. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn’t able to say goodbye when I had to leave.”
You hear his words, yet you stay silent — an encouragement for him to continue to speak what’s on his mind.
“My family was in a difficult financial position back then and my dad had done things I wasn’t proud of…” Jimin’s eyes turn glassy and faraway, even when he sets his gaze up. “And one of them is that he had made a deal with loan sharks without the guarantee of paying them back… And of course, they were angry.”
He pauses, taking a deep breath.
“I once thought that probably I could still stay here back then. Even more so when I met you. But I was wrong. Those men started to chase after me and because of that, you—” He shudders. “—got injured. And that night my parents had made plans to leave without me and my brother knowing.”
He turns to look at you. “I never got to apologise to you for causing that. I should be the one to protect you but… I failed. For that, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“Jimin…” You say softly. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who jumped in front of you when the man came after you. It’s my own choice because you are special to me.”
“But I could have—”
You shush him with a pointer finger in front of his lips for a few moments. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Mochi. It’s not your fault. And what matters now is to focus on the present and look to the future, right?”
He nods, emotions swimming inside his chocolate eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I thought—”
“For telling you that you shouldn’t have feelings for me.”
And you lapse into silence. He remembers…?
“I hate that that has hurt you. I shouldn’t have said that. But I was happy but desperate too since my family—”
“Jimin.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“What do you see me as, now?”
He blinks. All the practiced words on how he would tell you his feelings dissipate from his mind as he blankly stares at you. “I… I like you.” His voice grows quieter. “More than friends…”
“And if I said you shouldn’t have feelings for me?”
A flash of hurt crosses his eyes briefly. But he answers, nonetheless, “I would do what you want.”
“So, you reciprocate my feelings now?”
“H-huh?”
“I like you too. More than friends. In fact, I think my feelings have grown for you ever since I found out you’re Mochi.”
It takes a few moments for Jimin to process your words. He gapes, mouth opening and closing.
“You are resembling Lady Goldilocks right now.”
“What?”
Your cheeks flush. “Lady Goldilocks is a Betta fish. She was the golden one in a tank full of her blue siblings. Jungkook tried persuading me to choose the blue ones since they were more attractive to look at. But all I could see is the gold one since it reminded me of you.”
“I like golden colours…” Jimin mumbles in realisation.
“Exactly,” you let out a sheepish laugh, eyes turning to look back up into the sky. Before Jimin can respond, your eyes brighten up. “Look! A shooting star!”
Jimin snaps his gaze up as well.
“Hurry, make a wish!” You then close your eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear. Jimin follows suit, making his own wish.
As soon as you both finish making your wishes, you turn to face him once more.
“Are you still sorry for saying that to me?”
Jimin nods, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Hell, he thinks he would always regret hurting you that time.
“I know how you can make it up to me then.”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
“W-What?” He splutters.
“Unless you don’t want—“ Yet, your words die on your throat as Jimin moves closer to you, eliminating the distance between you both as he cups your face just like that time in the bakery.
Without another word, he leans down, pressing his lips on yours softly while you place your hands on top of his before he presses further, brows furrowing as he kisses you fervently. For the time being, all that matters is just you and him. He caresses your cheeks and you run your hands down to wrap around his waist until you can feel his heart beating against his chest.
After pulling away — both of you catching your breaths — Jimin presses his forehead against yours, running his thumb over your lips while you were unable to open your eyes for a few moments at the burst of emotions that is coursing through you.
“I’ve imagined this moment so many times,” he admits. “My wish finally came true.” And you smile at that.
“My wish also came true because of you, Mochi...”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Sitting on one of the tables, your eyes can’t take themselves off Jimin as he serves customers. Today is your day off and you decided to pay him a visit in the bakery.
“You’re drooling.”
Your gaze snaps up to your best friend who sits across you after placing a cinnamon roll on the table for you. Jungkook continues, “I swear I’m going to vomit one of these days if I see you or Jimin hyung throwing each other— what was that called? It’s an old term— Oh! Goo-goo eyes one more time.”
“Shut up, Jeon. I’m not.” You reach for the roll, taking a bite.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, you basically either stare at him like he placed stars in the sky or like you want to tear off his clothes—”
You choke on the roll, quickly reaching for your glass of water before you throw your napkin at his face. Jungkook cackles at that before he resumes his act, sighing. “This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have intervened. I didn’t know you’d be like this. My best friend is so uncool now.”
“Y/N is what?” You perk up at Jimin’s voice.
“Whipped,” Jungkook mutters before he takes his cue to leave. He stands up, passing by Jimin after shooting the older one a teasing glance.
Jimin sits across from you, and he instinctively reaches for your hand on the table. “How was your day?” And you swear you can hear Jungkook making a gagging sound amidst the chatter of the customers.
“Good. I finished my chores at home earlier today. So, I thought I would come visit.”
Minutes pass by quickly as you chatter with Jimin. He had almost forgotten to go back to work until Jungkook reminded him. When it is time to close up the bakery, you watch him wash the remaining mixing bowls while perching on one of the cleaned counters of the kitchen.
“You know, I could use some help,” Jimin teases, drying his hands on his apron.
A smile curls up on the corner of your lips, eyes following his movements — drawing closer to where you are. “Well, I think you got it all handled, Mochi.”
Once he reaches you, he pulls you to wrap your legs around his waist while your arms rest on his shoulders — encircling around his neck. You both stare at each other and he pushes a strand of stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind an ear while his other hand settles on your waist.
“Sometimes, I still can’t believe that you’re really here with me,” You admit. “Just like a sweet dream.”
Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not, Y/N...” He leans to give you a chaste kiss. “... we’ll make up for the lost time we didn’t spend together.”
“Promise?”
He softly smiles at you. “Promise.”
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author’s note: this was originally intended to be posted on jimin’s birthday but well i decided to add more stuff in it. thus, i am late alskflsdda so yes, i hope you guys enjoy this fic and feedbacks are always appreciated !! thank you for reading ♡
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the-fiction-witch · 3 years ago
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ADAM!
TV SHOW LEWIS COUPLE: ADAM X READER RATING: FLIRTY
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I sighed as I sat on the train my headphones on as I watched the world go past me I was heading home for the summer I'd be heading back to uni in September but until then I would spend some time at home with my family. I avoided the eyes of the boy across the way I knew him somewhat he was in my English class at uni cocky little prick who gets A*'s even though he sleeps thought class he kept looking at me often winking in my direction but I rolled my eyes and continued watching the window. My station was next so I gathered up all my various belongings and climbed off the train into the platform unfortunately I noticed immediately so did he.
"Well hello sugar. Where are you off to then?" He smirked 
"Home adam" I sighed 
"I see, as you know this station mind leading me to the car park, my mum's picking me up"
"Fine. Just don't hover I have to meet my dad" I sighed hurrying thought the station with him following behind me till we got to the car park and we stood waiting around "what are you doing here adam?'
"Hu? Oh my mum's moving in with her boyfriend so I got to go there for summer" he explained "you?"
"My dad lives around here"
"Maybe we'll be seeing each other over the summer then sugar" he smirked his hand pinching my ass 
"Adam! Fuck off!" I told him as I saw my dad's car 
"Hi honey!" He called out the window to me but then I heard another voice 
"Hi darling!" It sounded female maybe his new girlfriend or something the car stopped and my dad gave me a hug 
"Hi daddy"
"Hi honey you have a nice trip"
"I think so" 
"Hello darling! Awww look at my cute little boy" I heard beside me a woman was cuddling adam maybe his mum got here too 
"Ahh yes, y/n I wanted to meet Erica she and her son adam are going to be moving in with us" he explained
"Ooohh so, mum your moving in with your boyfriend jack and jacks daughter Is y/n so that makes me and y/n" adam smirked 
"Oohh hell no" I sighed 
"Aww hello step sister"
"My god do I hate you" I sighed 
"You two know each other?" His mother asked 
"We have the same english class" I sighed 
"Aww well I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly then" my dad laughed "come on kids let's get home"
"I am not sharing my room with you!" I warn adam "or my bathroom!" 
I got sorted in my old bedroom unpacking my things unfortunately I had to share my bathroom something I was not thrilled about but I had little choice in the matter as my on suite was also the on suite for our spare bedroom now adams bedroom. 
"Ummm hello step sister" I heard him smirk 
"Go away adam" I sighed "and your not my stepbrother"
"In all but law sugar" he winked 
"Will you actually cut out the winky looks and the pinching my butt now?"
"Why?"
"Because we live in the same house?"
"So? As you said technically speaking your not my stepsister, close enough but your not. Nothing stopping me from railing you in our shared bathtub if you want me too sugar expect how quiet my little sugar cookie can be while I fuck her sexy ass" 
"Fuck odd adam. It's not gonna happen. It wasn't gonna happen before I found our our parents are dating now there's even less chance of it happening you where at 0 now your at -42 so cut it out and quit being a horny little cock" I told him as I put my clothes away
"No. I refuse." He smirked grabbing the bundle of clothes I had in my hand "I can help"
"I don't need your help" I snached my clothes back
"Well I want to help" he says taking them again 
"Awww you two are already helping each other unpack how sweet" his mother smiled as she came around "how about take away for dinner kids?"
"Sure mum, we'll be down in a bit" he told her so she headed off "I shall help" he smirked
"Fine" I sighed taking the bundle I had to wear it needed to go
 "ooooooh I shall start with this draw" he smirked instantly digging his hands in my panties draw "oooohh I shall be excited to see you in these one sugar" he smirked folding my lace panties 
"You dirty bastard give them back!" I yelled trying to get them back off him he threw them in my draw and ran back to his own room this is gonna be a long summer.
Anti depresent
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nathanknowsitall · 4 years ago
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Sweater Weather
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Summary: Peter knows that you’re warm under the clothes you’re wearing, but you refuse to admit it. 
Notes: This is dedicated to insecure plus size people. We are beautiful and we deserve to take up space. Enjoy! <3
“You’ve got to be kidding me...”, Peter says under his breath as you step out of your apartment in a hoodie and jeans. 
“Are you ready to go?”, you say as you put your keys in your front pocket and your phone and money in your back pockets.
Peter, meanwhile, rolls his eyes at the irony of your question. It was literally going to be in the high eighties and sunny all day and yet you were wearing so many clothes.
“Y/N, we’re not leaving until you put on some appropriate clothes. Ones that are meant for the summer.”
“Peter, you’re being ridiculous, I’m fine. Now, let’s go”, you said as you started towards the stairs. 
You knew that, yeah, maybe you were the one being ridiculous, but wearing less clothes than the ones you were wearing, especially around Peter, was out of the question. 
It may sound ridiculous, but you thought that if you wore clothes that covered up your body, maybe people wouldn’t pay attention to how wide your hips were or how big your stomach was. Maybe if you hid it well enough, they’d forget how fat you were and let you be friends with them. 
And it seemed to work. Now you had MJ and Ned and Liz and Betty and most of the Academic Decathlon Team and Peter as friends. And they all seemed to forget that you were fat. Or at least they now knew you enough to forgive you for what you looked like. 
Sometimes, they even seemed like they would want to be more than friends. But maybe that was just Peter, actually.
When you realized that Peter wasn’t following you, you looked back at your apartment door, finding that he hadn’t moved an inch. 
“I’m not leaving until you change”, Peter declared. “You never complain about it, but I know that you have got to be uncomfortable wearing a hoodie when it’s so hot”, Peter said, as he crossed his arms, trying to look assertive. You rolled your eyes as you walked back towards your door. 
“Okay, fine. I’ll leave my hoodie”, you said as you unlocked your door. As you walked in, you motioned Peter to sit on your couch, “Sit, Mr. Meanie.”
“I’m not being mean, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable”, Peter said, in a slightly irritating, slightly louder voice that was reminiscent of a parent or a teacher. You rolled your eyes as you entered your room, took off your jacket and changed your short-sleeved shirt into a long sleeved-one.
When you came back out into the living room, all you heard was a big sigh from Peter. 
“You are not wearing a long-sleeved shirt right now. I am not looking at you in a long-sleeved shirt right now, not when you said you’d wear something for the summer”, Peter said, half serious, half teasing.
“Peter, I don’t have anything short-sleeved right now, it’s laundry day for me”, you lied, but Peter immediately caught you.
“Your laundry day is on Wednesday, it’s Saturday. Why are you lying to me? What’s going on?”, Peter said, in a softer, more curious tone. You started biting your lip, trying to decide on what you could tell him.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that you had slightly started to shake. Just a little bit, but it was enough for Peter’s senses to pick up on. He started walking towards you and held your hand. 
“Whatever is going on, we can talk about it. I promise. I didn’t mean to make you scared...I’m sorry. You can wear whatever you want. It’s just that you always wear sweaters and hoodies and things that make you hot and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable during our day out”, Peter said, softly. 
His voice was so sweet and it made you so relaxed as you used your connected hands to lead him to your room. 
Peter’s eyes went wide when you both entered your room. It was a mess of clothes. You motioned Peter towards the only free spot on your bed, where he sat while you stood in front of him. 
“Peter, it’s just...I’m just that I’m...bigger than most people. Sometimes I have days where I feel comfortable and can wear things like this”, you said as you picked up a baby blue camisole that Peter had never seen before. “But sometimes I have days where this...”, you picked up a loose dark blue sweater that Peter had seen many times, “is the only thing I feel good wearing.” 
Peter knew that you were big, but hearing the way that you mentally battled yourself about your body hurt him. How could the prettiest girl he had ever seen feel this way about herself? Didn’t she know that everyone thought she was gorgeous? Didn’t she know that her body was just another thing he loved about her?
“I know that it seems really stupid to be so self-conscious that I literally would rather sweat than wear something comfortable, but I just...can’t. Even thinking about it is scary to me”, you admitted in a soft, quiet voice.
Peter looked at you fondly as he stood up and took several steps towards you, carefully opening his arms to hug you. As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, tears falling freely onto Peter’s shoulder. 
You had always known that deep down Peter didn’t care about your weight, but having him hold you and reassure you of that fact felt freeing. 
When the tears stopped falling and you both let go, you looked up to find his eyes filled with warmth and determination. 
“I have an idea”, he said as he turned around and picked up the forgotten camisole you had just shown him. “Let’s have a fashion show starring the most beautiful girl in the world, Y/N Y/L/N!”. You laughed at your best friend’s antics.
“Peter, no! We have to go on our picnic!”, you giggled as you tried to drag the sweetest boy in the world out of your room.
“But I wanna see you in this”, Peter said as he held up the camisole again, full pout and puppy dog eyes prominent. You felt your heart do a little flip seeing your crush ask for you to model for him. 
You sighed, “I will model for you, but only if you promise to not make fun of how gross I look in this, okay?”. 
Peter got so excited, his pout immediately turning into a big toothy grin as he ushered you into the bathroom and handed you the tank top. 
You rolled your eyes as you took off your long-sleeve shirt and replaced it with the tank top that molded to your stomach rolls and felt snug in the chest area. You felt absolutely ridiculous, but you kind of hoped Peter would get point once he saw how it looked on you. 
As you walked out of the bathroom, Peter’s jaw dropped. He always thought that you were pretty, but seeing you wear something that showed way more of your skin than he was used to made him realize just how attractive you were.
“See Peter! I look ridiculous!”, you exclaimed as Peter shook his head rapidly, “I’m going to go change back into my shirt and then we can go to-”. Peter interrupted you by pulling hard on your arm and making you turn around to look at him. 
He couldn’t stop looking at your body as his eyes looked you up and down over and over again. You tried to cover yourself, both embarrassed by Peter’s attention, but also by the thought that he may be checking you out. 
“Peter, I gotta change...”, you said as you tried to dissolve the odd moment between you two. 
“Actually...can we stay here...and can we keep doing a fashion show? It’s already way too hot outside and this is so...umm...fun?”, Peter said as you almost rolled your eyes. 
What is he thinking?, you thought, as you directly faced him, while he continued to look at you.
“Peter...”, he looked into your eyes for the first time in a long time, “Why are you looking at me so much?”.
Peter’s face, unfortunately for him, was too expressive, as he struggled to apparently string a sentence together and blushed red. You squinted at him before deciding to do something brave: tease him.
“Do you see something you like Peter?”, you said as you spun around and tried to pose like a model.
You could feel Peter’s gaze intently on you, so you decided to go a bit further. 
You looked at him and then moved closer and closer to where he was sitting, standing basically right in front of his seated form.
“Is this okay, Peter?”, you asked, feeling your heart rate increase as you realized that you were actually, real life flirting with Peter.
He looked up at you, eyes seeming completely focused on you.
“Ye-Yeah. Umm...you can get closer-if-if you want...”, he responded, stuttering.
“Hmm...”, you said as you began to crawl into his lap, putting your arms on his shoulders. You don’t know where the confidence had come from, but it felt natural to do this with Peter.
Peter looked up at you as you looked down at him. He shifted suddenly, leaning forward as he brought his hands to your hips. Your noses were almost touching, but, more importantly, your lips almost were too.
“Peter...”, you whispered into his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered softly as his gaze fixed on your lips. Yours did the same. 
“Y/N...can I pretty please kiss you?”, he asked, seeming desperate. 
You nodded slightly, noses touching softly, before he leaned in and gave the most beautiful girl in the world a sweet kiss. And you gave the most handsome boy in the world one right back.
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jaesqueso · 3 years ago
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The Bachelorette: NCT edition - Ep. 6
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The season of love is finally here! An interactive series where you’ll get to choose who goes home each week and ultimately who Y/N chooses in the end!
pairing: nct(ot23) x fem!reader
summary: The competition gets tighter and someone decides to take things their own way for a greater good
episode guide
word count: 6,184
warnings: mentions of alcohol (all responsible!)
☽ ・・・・・ ☾
Last week on the Bachelorette:
Y/N confronts the bachelors with a warning she received but they all seemed oblivious, could it be a lie after all or is someone hiding something?
Despite the doubts, they keep working on their relationships with the bachelorette in hopes to prove they’re the right man for her..
7 guys are still on the love race but after tonight only 5 will keep running.
Who will she choose? Who will she reject? And will someone reject her?
Find out on the Bachelorette!
-
“Hello guys!” The boys gather around as Chris enters the guest house. “So, there were a lot of emotions when we last saw each other and I hope you really think about the reasons that brought you to this competition and if they match Y/N’s expectations.”
Tension builds up in the air as they recall the last ceremony.
“This week we will get back to having two one-on-one dates and one group date.”
The guys breathe in relief as this will decrease the chances of being eliminated ahead of the end of the week.
“As you know, if you don’t receive a rose by the end of the individual dates you will be sent home and the group date brings another chance to win a rose in advance. As always, good luck to you all and see you in a few days!”
A siren is heard when Chris leaves the room announcing the message for the first date.
How is it that some of you still didn’t get a chance to go on a one-on-one with me? Something sounds fishy…
Taeyong and Johnny exchange a look, they’re the only two in this situation, apart from Renjun that actually went on a two-on-one date. Who could it be?
I think it’s time we sea how good of a match we are, don’t you agree, Taeyong?
The boy’s eyes sparkle finally getting his chance to show you how much he wants to be here. Johnny looks a bit disappointed but nevertheless joins the others as they congratulate the lucky one.
“Oh man, I think my heart will explode.” Taeyong cries out in excitement.
“Hey, not before the date!” Yuta pats his back laughing.
“Otherwise I might take your place.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows.
“Hell no, nobody will take this away from me, I waited for too long!”
Everybody laughs as Taeyong happily skips around the room.
-
The first one to get an individual date this week looks like a kid on his birthday when he gets out of the guest house to enter the car that’s waiting for him. A big smile refuses to leave his face the whole ride and it only grows when he sees you standing in front of an oceanarium.
“Hey pretty boy.” You happily great him.
“Hi Y/N.” He approaches you shyly at the pet name.
“Oh look, we’re matching!” You point at your same color shirts and sneakers.
“Looking like a real couple already!” Confidence builds up inside Taeyong.
“I know!” You giggle. “Well, in case you didn’t get it from my message, we’ll be looking at some sea creatures today. Are you as excited as I am?”
“Maybe even more.” He winks.
“That’s great! Shall we go in?”
He nods extending his arm for you to take, which you happily do as you two enter the building.
You two are amazed with the beautiful setting with low blue lights that makes you feel like you’re really underwater. As you walk through the rooms you observe all the different fish and they’re beautiful colors. Taeyong amazes you with his knowledge about the sea life telling you all sorts of random facts about the different species.
You get into a room where you see a huge shark swimming away from the glass. You take a step forward trying to get a closer look but the animal suddenly decides to take a turn next to where you’re standing and you squeal turning around hiding your face on Taeyong’s chest.
“Hey, it’s ok.” He lightly chuckles rubbing your back to calm you down feeling your body slightly shake.
“It startled me…” You murmur into his chest taking a deep breath in his embrace.
“It’s not coming anywhere near you, I’ll protect you.”
You look up and admire his beautiful features that are only enhanced in the dim lights. His gaze lowers to your face smiling and you feel like you are safe with him, as stupid as that may sound considering you were not in actual danger.
Moving on, you two stop at a corridor where the tank goes over your heads giving you the illusion the fish are swimming around you. There’s a bench in the middle so you decide to sit down for a bit. You take a seat opposite to him, your backs together and lean your head on his shoulder admiring the animals casually swimming above you. Taeyong follows your lead resting his head besides yours. Anyone passing by the two of you would mistake you for a real couple. Submersed in this mystical environment, your date starts asking you deep things wanting to know your hopes and dreams, your biggest fears, what keeps you up at night. You gladly reply enjoying how you’re getting to know each other at a deeper level than you ever expected.
After a while, you both get up to see the rest of the rooms, arms interlocked again. You’re really enjoying his company and you feel bad you haven’t decided to take in on a date sooner. As less and less guys remain in the competition sometimes it’s easier to work on the connections you already established with some of them and sadly end up neglecting the others. But you’re glad to have taken this chance today.
-
Back in the guest house, things get heated once again.
“Is no one seriously going to admit anything?” Jaehyun asks the group as the topic from last week is still in the air.
“I thought we had dropped this already.” Renjun rolls his eyes.
“I bet it’s you.” Yuta addresses him. “Just admit it!”
“Look dude I’ve got nothing to admit, stay in your lane.” Renjun spits back.
“All I’m saying is,” Jaehyun steps in again, “if I go home and find out a cheater gets to stay I will be pissed.”
“Same.” Yuta agrees.
Jaemin and Jeno simply nod at the statements actively listening to the conversation while Johnny silently stands on his corner lost on his thoughts.
The awaited siren is then heard and they all gather around the TV in the living room.
I may seem like a practical woman but sometimes if feels good to be treated like a princess. Now who’ll be my prince?
Curious looks replace the tense faces around the room.
Unfortunately one of you won’t be in the race for the throne but don’t worry, that means you already passed the competition and we’ll have our time in two days.
They lean forward, excited to know who will be going on the date tomorrow and who’ll be the second lucky man this week.
Yuta | Jaehyun | Renjun | Jeno | Jaemin
See you tomorrow!
“You go Johnny!” Jaehyun cheers.
“Thanks man.” Johnny says as Renjun quietly leaves the room.
“Guess everybody will have had an one-on-one date by the end of this week right?” Jeno quickly does the math.
“Well, Renjun had a two-on-one…” Jaemin states.
“But he was able to survive that date so it’s kinda like it right?” Jeno looks around the other boys who kind of nod unsure on what Renjun is feeling right now.
-
After a lovely time at the oceanarium, you and Taeyong decide to go grab some food at a restaurant with river view.
“I gotta say, Taeyong, you’re really impressing me today.” You mention as your drink arrive.
“Did you hold your expectations about me that low?” He playfully pouts.
“No!” You quickly reassure him. “I just didn’t foresee the deep conversations we had today.”
“I’m sorry if it got a bit intense.” He scratches the back of his head.
“Not at all, it feels good to talk like that once in a while.” You smile.
“Let’s toast then.” He raises his glass and you follow. “To deep talks under the sea and may I always protect you from vicious sharks coming your way.”
He winks and you bot chuckle, clinking your glasses. The dinner conversation is lighter, discussing hobbies and other interests.
When you first met him he looked so intimidating but as time goes by and you get to know him better you can now see he’s a sweet and kind guy, very caring and also funny without even realising. He really could be the man for you but could this be too late? Could you heart already be taken by someone else in this competition? You shake those thoughts out of your head to focus on this moment.
“How about we go for a walk?” You propose as you wrap up the meal.
“Sounds lovely.” He agrees and you two get up and leave the restaurant.
It’s a good summer night with a light breeze good enough to tame the temperature. You walk around the streets admiring the city lights and enjoying each others company.
“I’m really grateful you choose me for this date today.” Taeyong stops in the city square and takes your hand caressing the back with his thumb. “I’m having a great time, I hope you are too.”
“I really am.” You smile. “I feel like I have to apologise for not doing this sooner.”
“Please, better late than never!” He chuckles.
“Ok, can you close your eyes?” You excitedly ask.
“Wait, why?” He’s confused with your question.
“Please?” You put on the best puppy eyes you can.
“How can I say no to you?” He melts at your expression and shuts his eyelids. “Ok, now what?”
Besides the background noise of cars passing and people walking, there’s only silence. Taeyong really wants to open his eyes and see what you’re up to but he resists the thought.
“You can open them now.” He finally hears your voice.
The first thing he sees is a pink box in your hands with the word ‘Macaron’ on the top in gold. He looks at you in surprise.
“You mentioned you like the strawberry ones and there’s a stand right there.” You point behind you and he’s amazed by your gesture. “C’mon, open it up!”
He chuckles and opens the box. Delicious pink macarons ready for him to eat but… Wait. The middle one is not a macaron. That’s… He widens his eyes and looks back at you to see you smiling proudly as you were able to really surprise him.
“So? Do you accept it?”
“I-” Taeyong clears his throat. “Of course I do.”
You finally take the rose from the box and pin it to his shirt.
“Oh my god, this is amazing, thank you Y/N.” He pulls you for a tight hug with his free hand as the other still holds the box.
“I’m glad you liked it.” You giggle.
On the ride back you happily share the macarons, talking and laughing. Taeyong doesn’t even try to hide his excitement with a rose on his chest and you are very happy you gave it to him and hold him in for another week.
-
The next day the boys get on their ride to meet you leaving Johnny and Taeyong in the guest house. On the way they try to decipher your message and get very excited once their dropped off at the beach. They walk around the shore until they spot you in a less busy area.
“Over here guys!” You wave your hand in the air.
They walk towards you and you can tell their curious about the five marked areas in the sand behind you.
“Oh these?” You ask. “I thought we could have a little competition today, what do you think?”
Cheers are heard and you can clearly see the excitement in their faces.
“Like I said in my message, sometimes I like to feel like a princess and what kind of royalty doesn’t have a castle? That’s right, today each of you will build me a sand castle!”
The guys look surprised but not less enthusiastic.
“Then I will judge your creations and choose a winner. I will be looking at your creativity and the size and beauty of your castles so do your best to impress me!”
“What does the winner get?” Renjun asks.
“Do you see that platform over there?”
You point to the sea where a wooden trail leads to a romantic setting with an outdoor couch, a structure with white fabrics draped over it and a small table holding two glasses and a champagne bottle inside an ice bucket.
“My prince will have the opportunity to watch the sunset with me right there.”
The boys looked impressed and motivated to start building their castle.
“Alright, you can each pick a spot. There are a few beach utensils you can use but you can always walk around for any more props.”
Taking their space, they await for you to give them the go ahead.
“While you do that I will be over here ‘supervising’.” You wink taking off your dress and laying down on a sun lounger wearing only a bikini.
The guys carefully watch you, jaws dropping. How are they supposed to work when you’re laying there half naked distracting them?
“Oh, you can start now.” You smirk and they forcefully break their gaze to focus on the task in hands.
From time to time you look at them to see the process. They first work on the structure of the castles, making towers and even several floors. Once that is done they walk around the beach collecting sea shells, seaweed and even… water? You’re definitely intrigued on the final results but try not to spy on them too much not to give yourself spoilers.
After some time Renjun walks over to you sitting down in the sand beside you.
“Hey beautiful.” You look at him in surprise.
“You finished already?” You ask him as you still see the others busy with their creations.
“I work fast.” He casually replies. “And while the sloths over there finish up I thought I’d keep you some company.”
“Well, alright then.”
 You two talk for a while without even noticing you’re being watched.
“What is he doing over there?” Jeno questions.
“I don’t know, do you think he finished already?” Jaemin says.
They all glance over at his station and raise their eyebrows?
“He thinks he’s gonna win with that? Good luck!” Yuta laughs.
“What a greedy idiot.” Jaehyun chuckles shaking his head as they all return to their projects.
Half an hour later everybody is ready to be judged and they all stand proudly next to their stations. The first one up is Yuta. There are several towers with different heights, a big gate in the front and the whole thing is decorated with seaweed strategically placed as stripes on the walls.
“Nice one, Yuta, I love the paint job!” He smiles widely at your compliment.
Next one up is Jaehyun. Design wise it’s more simple than the previous one but not less beautiful, there are even flags at the top of some towers and sea shells decorate the outer wall that surrounds the castle.
“Great job, Jaehyun, this looks amazing!” Another bright smile.
Moving on to Jeno you are amazed at how he separated the castle into two sections with a bridge connecting them. Broken sea shells embellish the windows all over the structure making it all look so magical.
“Wow! So beautiful, Jeno!” His eyes squint into his beautiful eye smile.
After him there’s Jaemin’s creation. Now this is a proper princess castle! Structure wise it’s not very complicated but he managed to make a river around the property with actual water there and a bridge that give access to the gates to enter the castle. In terms of decoration it looks like he used everything he could find but you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t look good.
“How did you manage to do all this, Jaemin?” Your jaw almost drops.
“What can I say? I was inspired.” He winks and you gently push his shoulder.
Finally you arrive to next station that belongs to Renjun and… There’s barely anything there. Two towers and a main section in the middle with maybe two stories if you squint. Little to none decoration. It looks rushed and unfinished but you kind of guessed that would happen with how fast he was sitting by your side.
“It’s… Something! But is it really finished?” You question him.
“You know what? I looked around and everybody was doing something amazing and I thought I could never beat them so I decide to just do something quick and enjoy some time alone with you.”
“Well, that’s kind of disappointing, I like someone who fights for what he wants and you might have lost a good chance here.”
Before he can even reply your already announcing the winner.
“And the best castle of today is…” the guys make a drum roll with their hands on their legs. “Jaemin!”
While the others groan in defeat Jaemin jumps in the air unfortunately making his bridge collapse. He gasps and turns to you.
“I still win, right?” He worriedly asks and you pretend to think about it.
“Of course, we’ll get it fixed. Now c’mon my prince, let’s enjoy some champagne. Bye guys!”
You extend your arm and he happily takes it as you wave the others goodbye and walk towards the platform.
-
Back in the guest house Johnny and Taeyong sit outside enjoying the sun.
“How was that first one-on-one date?” Johnny asks.
“Oh it was incredible, she’s the sweetest girl I swear.” Taeyong is still high on your date.
“Aren’t you scared of arriving too late into her heart?” Johnny questions.
“Too late? What do you mean?” Taeyong is a bit confused.
“I mean, she went on dates with all the others long ago and she clearly has built some connections with them. Don’t you think maybe because you’re only getting closer to her now you won’t be able to surpass the other guys?”
“I didn’t think about things that way…” Taeyong looks up at the sky. “But honestly you shouldn’t either. It’s thoughts like those that get you sent home. And look at me, I still got a rose!”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right…” Johnny looks up at the sky too.
“Look, just enjoy whatever is planned for tomorrow and forget those thoughts ok?” Taeyong tries to comfort him.
“I guess you’re right…”
Soon noises are heard from the front door making the two get inside and join the ones returning from the group date.
“Alright, who’s missing?” Taeyong analyses the crowd. “Oh man, Jaemin?”
“Yup.” Yuta nods.
“What did you guys do though?” Johnny asks but the siren announces a new message for him.
“I’ll tell you later, let’s check this out.” Jaehyun holds Johnny’s shoulders guiding him to the front of the TV.
Hey Johnny! I hope you’re enjoying the calmness around the house today because tomorrow we’re getting wet!
The boys widen their eyes. There you again making them anxious with your suggestive messages.
Don’t worry too much about the clothing and I promise it will be flippin amazing.
“You guys getting naked?” Taeyong almost shouts.
“Don’t be silly, of course not.” Jeno shakes his head.
“Or are we?” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows earning himself all the pillows in the living room thrown at his face.
-
Jaemin kindly fills up the two glasses and you get comfortable in the couch. He pulls you closer to his body wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the sun slowly goes down.
“I missed this.” He says.
“Missed what exactly?” You smirk.
“Just being alone with you, not worried if anyone is going to pop up and interrupt us.”
You snuggle closer to him trying to hide your embarrassed face. Jaemin really has a way of leaving you flustered out of nowhere like this. You stay in silence for a bit but then you decide to clarify something that’s been in your head for quite some time.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, you can ask me anything.” He pets your hair.
“Do you remember when we were talking in that cocktail party after I sent Shotaro home?”
“Yes, I remember.” He recalls every single moment he spent with you.
“On that day, why didn’t you kiss me?”
His hand on your hair stops and you hear him gulp.
“You were fragile, Y/N. You were crying in my arms and pouring your heart out. My job in that moment was to hear you and comfort you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was taking advantage of you.”
You take a deep breath and smile. He really is a caring person.
“But I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it.” He continues and you look up at him. “It just wasn’t the right time.”
“Thank you Jaemin.” You lift your hand and caress his cheek. “I can’t wait for the right time to arrive.”
“Me neither.”
You stare at each other for a few seconds before you both start to lean in closing the distance and making your lips come together at last. Jaemin takes his time kissing you, savouring every second as it was the last time he’d be tasting you like this. You melt into his mouth feeling your heart beat faster even if time seems to have come to a stop for this very moment.
When you finally part, he grabs a blanket and lays it over the two of you as you cuddle watching the beautiful sunset that is almost reaching its end. With smiles plastered on your faces you lay in the most comfortable silence listening to the waves and the sound of your hearts that beat in sync, body and soul together as one.
Before you two head back you take the rose that was laying on the table since the beginning and he seemed to miss.
“Do you accept this rose, Jaemin?”
“Every single time you ask me.” You giggle and pin the rose to his shirt.
He thanks you by pulling you into another romantic kiss as the now dark sky and moonlight shine upon you. This was really the right time, definitely a moment you���ll never forget, but so are all moments with Jaemin.
-
The following day, Johnny leaves the guest house with a smile on his face ready to spend some alone time with you. He enters the car and is taken out of town to a marine aquatic park where you are waiting for him in a floral skirt and a plain top.
“Hi Johnny.” You happily greet him.
“Hey!” He excitedly walks to you.
“Question: do you like dolphins?”
“Oh dolphins are the cutest! Right after you of course.” He winks and you giggle.
“Well, should we combine those cute things?”
“Really? I might die from the cuteness overload.” He takes a hand to his heart making a painful face.
“Lucky for you I have first aid training!” You both laugh and enter the building.
You go to the locker rooms to get change into some wetsuits and meet again in front of a big pool where two dolphins swim around. You take your time subtly admiring how the tight clothing wraps around Johnny’s fit body, he definitely has a great built. What you don’t know is that he is doing the exact same thing, his eyes following your every curve.
An instructs arrives, interrupting your gazes, and introduces himself. He explains what you can and can’t do to make the best of this experience.
You two enter the water and the dolphins swim to you. You get scare at first and get closer to Johnny that takes advantage of the situation to wrap his arm around your shoulders. Giggling you start playing with the animals.
The instructor helps you making the dolphins do tricks in the water, jump around and even giving you kisses. This is really a one of a kind experience and you’re glad you’re sharing it with Johnny. He’s all smiles and looks really happy.
After a while the animals do a final set of tricks saying goodbye and you two clap.
“Thank you so much, this was amazing!” Johnny tells the instructor.
“Yes it was really incredible, thank you!” You add as Johnny helps you out of the pool.
You two walk back to the locker rooms, changing into your regular clothes so you can go get some dinner.
You go to a restaurant in the hills with a great view of the city. As the drink arrive you make a toast to a great day you two spent together.
“Had you ever played with dolphins before?” You ask Johnny as the food arrives.
“Never, but it was so cool!” The excitement is still on his voice as he recalls the experience.
“I know right? I’ve been wanting to do this forever but with work and volunteering it’s like I never have the time to do fun things like this.” You say with some sadness on your voice.
“At least you’re making the most out of this experience.” He smiles. “Not only you try to find love but also have the opportunity to make up for lost time on your daily life.”
“You’re absolutely right. You know, I always tend to put other people first and that sometimes makes me feel like I’m losing myself a little bit. This experience made me enjoy having fun for me again and I’m really thankful all of you are by my side in this journey.”
“You only live once, Y/N. You gotta make every second count.”
The conversation runs smoothly throughout the rest of the evening and you really enjoy Johnny’s company, he would be a great man to keep by your side for a long time.
The meal ends and before you leave you decide you want to keep him around another week so you reach on your purse to grab the rose you were saving for tonight.
“Wait.” Johnny holds out his hand as you were about to rise the rose in his direction and you freeze. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“W-What do you mean?” You stutter confused with his statement.
“Look, I…” He sighs. “I really like you, I think I’ve shown you that. But… I see you with the others and I know that some of them already hold a piece of your heart. As for us, I think we have a beautiful friendship embezzled with some old fashion flirting.”
You let out a sad chuckle as it seems like he’s saying goodbye.
“I don’t know if we’ll ever grow into that special connection you are looking for.” He continues. “But I strongly believe you already found it in someone else, you just haven’t realised it yet.”
You furrow your brows, how can he be so certain when everything is a mess in your head and your heart.
“If you give me a rose tonight that will only make things harder for you at the ceremony and I want to leave knowing I made things easier for you.” He covers the rose still in your hand with his. “Save this and give it to the person you’d regret sending home tomorrow.”
“Johnny, I-” You start saying but he interrupts you.
“It’s ok. There’s no hard feelings, for real.” He genuinely smiles. “I feel like I’d fall in love with you soon and maybe it’s better if I don’t.”
“Are you sure you want to leave?” You ask with tears in your eyes.
“I’d rather do this now before I get hurt.” A tear falls down your cheek and he softly wipes it off. “Please don’t cry. I’ll thank me for this one day.”
“I can’t make you stay if you want to go. But I appreciate your honesty.” You manage to say feeling more emotions than you want to in this moment.
You two exit the restaurant and his ride already awaits him. Johnny gives you a tight hug and before he leaves he gives you a final message.
“Oh, about that ‘someone has a girlfriend back home’ situation, don’t worry about it ok?”
Before you have a chance to reply he enters the vehicle and leaves. As the car disappears down the street his last words linger in your head. Why did he tell you not to worry about it? Is it him the one with the girlfriend? Could it be that you already sent that person home? Or was it all a lie after all? You don’t really know but you trust that if he said this he wouldn’t be lying.
-
You join the bachelors is the cocktail party in hopes to talk to all of them, specially the ones who didn’t get a change to due to the group date.
The first one to call for a minute of your attention is Jeno. After last week’s time with him on the boat got cut short and no cocktail party, he takes this opportunity to catch up with you.
“We should just get back on that boat for a do over.” He smiles.
“That actually sounds pretty nice but I’d rather we do something different next time.” You smile back.
“Next time? I already got you thinking about that? I like where this is going.” He winks and you giggle.
You really love these alone moments with Jeno when he lets himself loose and his not afraid or shy to show you every inch of his personality.
You talk and playfully flirt for a little while before you decide to go outside where you find Jaehyun. He looks more than happy to see you making sure he stands close as you two talk. This man is always a flirt and you cannot stop melting at those adorable dimples.
You think about the end of your last date when you came back to give him a little peck and he seems to recall it too by the way he occasionally glances at your lips gently licking his own.
When you two step back inside you notice Yuta make is way towards you. But in the corner of your eye you see Renjun speeding your way looking at the other boy to make sure he gets to you first. And he does. But this time you stop him. You though these petty actions would be over when you sent Hendery home but perhaps you should’ve made a different choice.
“I was hoping I’d talk to you.” Renjun says.
“I’m sorry Renjun, I’m just going to talk to Yuta first, I’ll be right back ok?”
Before he could reply you linked arms with the other guy and pulled him over to a less crowed area.
As you’re now alone with Yuta you instantly forget about Renjun. It’s been a while since you actually sat down and talked to him so you take the opportunity to check on him and how he’s been feeling in this competition. He always seems like a confident guy, very sure of himself, but as you get closer to him you can start to see his true emotions in his eyes. As the competition gets tighter he too is scared of the possibility to be sent home, even if he feels a very good connection with you already.
After talking for a while and making sure he’s ok you keep your promise and approach Renjun. He doesn’t talk about what happened so neither do you, even though you’re still a little bothered. The conversation seems to be like all the others you had before. As he started to get boring or are you just fed up?
You mingle with the other boys too and before Chris calls you to the decision room, Jaemin pulls you to the side.
“I just wanted to ask how are you?” He asks with worry in his eyes. “I don’t know exactly what happened yesterday but he never came back so I assume he went home and I know how that affects you.”
You explain what went down but you don’t feel as bad anymore, you had time to think and you really appreciated what Johnny did for you. Besides your heart always gets warmer when Jaemin checks up on you. He knows you so well already and really cares about you, and honestly you feel the exact same way. Could Johnny be right? Has your heart made its choice but forgot to tell your brain?
-
“So, what’s going on inside your head tonight.?” Chris asks you int he decisions room.
“Total confusion as always.” You chuckle.
“You have 4 men downstairs waiting to know if you are interested in keeping them around a little longer. Do you have an idea of who you’re going to send home?”
“As much as it pains me I think I do. I really like all of them at this point so I gotta take in consideration every action, everything they said and everything they did since day one and weight in the pros and cons of each thing.”
“Johnny’s decision was hard for the both of you but before he left he told you not to worry about the big doubt that has been dominating the competition since Doyoung left. How do you feel regarding what he said?”
“If he told me not to worry I shouldn’t. Johnny had no reason to say that if it wasn’t the truth. And like he said, he wanted to leave knowing he would help me and I think that’s what he tried to do. I trust him.”
“It’s good to see you maintaining some friendships even when they leave. Well, I’ll leave you for a bit for you to finalise your decision and when you’re ready let me know.”
“Thank you, Chris.”
As he leaves the room you look at the pictures of the remaining guys. You take a deep breath, nodding as you made up your mind, the more you think about it the more you’ll second guess your decision and you don’t want that right now.
-
You walk downstairs with Chris joining the bachelors.
“Alright guys, Johnny decided not to accept the date rose yesterday and Taeyong and Jaemin already have theirs. Tonight there’s still 3 roses to be handed out meaning one of you will be going home.” Chris then turns to you. “Whenever you’re ready.”
As he leave the room you address the boys first.
“As you know this is getting harder and harder for me. Letting go of Johnny was hard but we talked and he left on good terms. I’m here to find the person to spend my life with and so I can’t keep you all here.”
You take the first rose.
“Jeno.”
He’s happy to be the first one called.
“Do you accept this rose?”
“Absolutely.” You smile as you pin it to his jacket. “Thank you.”
He walks back and you grab another one.
“Yuta.”
Proud to hear his name he steps forward in your direction.
“Do you accept this rose?”
“Of course I do.” You pin the rose. “Thank you.”
You take a deep breath as you hold the last rose.
“Jaehyun.”
You finally say and the bachelor sighs in relief.
“Do you accept this rose?”
“Yes!” He excitedly says as you pin it. “Thank you so much, Y/N.”
Chris re-enters the room.
“That means Renjun, it’s your time to go home. You can say your goodbyes.”
The eliminated man shakes his head in disbelief. The others come around but he just nods with an annoyed face. He’s about to leave the room without even looking at you but then steps back.
“Is this for real?” He abruptly asks and you don’t even know what to say. “I thought we were building something special.”
“Renjun, I’m sorry, but someone had to go.” You try to say but he simply scoffs and leaves.
The other bachelors, having watched the whole situation and seeing the devastated look on your face, are quick to come around and give you a group hug cheering you up. You smile but deep inside your heart tightens as you know that from the remaining five the goodbyes will only be worse.
-
In the next episode:
With only five bachelors left the rules switch up a little bit.
“This could be good or bad.”
“I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
And someone will have to leave the competition.
“I didn’t think it would be this hard to go.”
“Should I just give up?”
“I’m so sorry…”
Stay tuned for next weeks episode premiering 25/07.
☽ ・・・・・ ☾
Episode 7
a/n: johnnyyyyyyyyyy T_T I apologise over how late I’m posting this but this week has been so hard… I promise to do better in the future! do give me some feedback please! ❤
quick thank you to everyone who keeps supporting this series, we’re half way through guys!
taglist: @skrtbabe @yutahoes @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nakamotonudes @n0hyuck @negincho @love-and-other-possibilities @readers-posts @sylviacxt @tyongf-sunflower99 @princessjunnie​
If you’d like to be included in the taglist for the series do let me know ❤︎
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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago
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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐎𝐧𝐞
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full masterlist - fic masterlist
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Rowan glanced at his pocket watch and attempted to swallow his irritation.
How was it only nine-o-clock still? He had already suffered through enough social niceties to last a lifetime.
Now, he listened with but half a mind to his cousin drone on about the night's guests. His head was filled with all the tasks he needed to see to, including searching for a new governess for his sons. His boys kept chasing away every woman he employed and he was hesitant to hire a tutor, because he believed they needed a woman's influence too, now that his own wife was too ill. The physician had done all he could but there was not much hope she would wake, loathe as he was to admit it. Perhaps he should have accepted his mother-in-law's offer and send the boys to their her after all?
"--and Arobynn's here too—"
That caught his attention. "He is?"
"Mhmm. Look, over there, no, no, to the left—besides the pretty redhead, yes, just so."
A man stood by the entrance with a red-haired woman on his arm, tall and muscular, with a fine-boned face. His auburn hair were pulled back into a bun, offsetting his pale skin and the fine cut of his suit was a stark reminder of his prominent position in society, despite the whole stigma around tradesmen.
"I knew he was fond of flaunting convention but escorting his mistress to a ball?"
"You haven't heard?" James approached them with a drink in his hand. "She is not his mistress but an adoptive daughter of sorts and his apparent heir."
Fenrys choked on his drink.
"He named a girl heir to his trade empire—and not even his own blood—stupid!"
"Spoken like a man," said the gentleman and shook his head. "He raised her himself, is introducing her to all his associates and she doesn't look dumb either."
James nodded towards the redhead he had seen earlier, dressed in the finest black silk with a neckline low enough, it bordered on scandalous. Her copperish-red hair were pinned into an elegant coiffure with pretty, gold hair combs and a simple, pearl necklace completed the striking picture she made. Her sharp, defined features were barely beautiful until she laughed—a musical sound in itself—and he wondered whether he had seen anyone prettier.
"If hers was the last face I ever saw, I'd die a happy man." Fenrys sighed and walked off.
James rolled his eyes. "He's about to seek an introduction to her, isn't he?"
Rowan's lips twitched up.
He had always liked James. The man was completely without artifice and his enthusiasm for everything was so infectious, no one could remain angry with him. He had spent a few summers with the Galathynius children, until their youngest daughter was abducted and the visits stopped.
"I say you must frown a little less, sir, unless you wish to give offense."
Rowan looked up, startled at being addressed by the object of his thoughts. She looks even lovelier up close, thought he.
"I detest these events."
"So do half the people in this room and yet, appearances must be maintained."
"Deceit is not in my nature."
The lady frowned. "It is not deceitful to pretend you are interested in an event in order to spare your host's feelings."
"Your motive may be charitable but it is no excuse for dishonesty."
The lady looked amused but did not pursue the topic further. "I hope you will forgive me for speaking without a proper introduction, sir. I am not a fan of convention."
Rowan smiled.
An unmarried woman, not even of age, and already a heiress to a trade empire—by all accounts, she did not seem like one.
"I will, if you allow me to remedy the situation now." He bowed with exaggerated formality. "I am Mr. Rowan Whitethorn of Harcomb, in Doranelle."
Her cheek dimpled. "Miss Celaena Sardothein—my father—"
"Mr. Hamel, yes, I know." He almost cringed at how rude he sounded. "He and I, we are—"
"—business associates, yes, I know," she teased with an impish grin, replying in a poor imitation of his own deep voice.
Her eyes twinkled with amusement, filled with laughter and mirth—turquoise orbs, ringed with brilliant gold.
All of his resolve flew out of the window. "Miss Sardothein, will you allow me the pleasure of leading you into the first set? The dancing is about to commence."
"The pleasure will be all mine."
In hopes of starting a conversation, he said, "You are a fine dancer."
"I would have believed you to be a liar if we hadn't already established that deceit of any sort is your abhorrence."
He smiled. "And if I were being insincere?"
"I would take it as a compliment to myself, for it will mean that you are acting on my advice from earlier about lying for the sake of appearances."
They fell silent again.
"We must talk some, you know," said Rowan. "For someone who claims to be concerned with appearances, do you not think it would look odd for us to spend a half hour together but in silence."
She startled at the sudden statement. "Introduce a topic then and I will do my poor best to maintain the conversation."
Rowan complied and was pleasantly surprised to find her lively and good-humored and well-informed on most subject from current fashion disasters to books to political bills and movements. Her arguements were passionate and far from taking offense at his dry humor, she matched it with witty quips of her own; and to top it alll off, she was as skilled a dancer as a conversationalist.
Rowan was almost annoyed when the song came to an end. He could not recall the last time he had been half as well entertained.
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"You will be the death of me, you foolish, foolish chit!" screeched the old matron.
Fenrys had allowed himself to be dragged into a bookstore, which happened to be one of his least favourite places, by his cousin, James—the second son to his uncle, Lord Rhoe, the Earl of Narrowcreek—and was now eager for any sort of amusement. He turned towards the high-pitched shriek with interest.
A young lady stood near the shelves, tall and proud, even in the face of her mother's ill-bred manners.
Her blonde hair fell down in waves, half pinned by dragonfly-shaped hair combs. The fabric of her dress was fine enough for her to belong to the first circles and yet, he could not recall seeing her—or her mother—anywhere.
"Ungrateful child! Wait until I tell your father what you did; he will be most displeased."
She bit her lip to contain her mirth, though her cheeks flushed with embarassment. Her eyes flitted to the door and back, as if she was looking for some escape.
"Poor girl," the bookshop owner murmured.
The following words had the unfortunate attention of drawing the mother's attention towards the owner.
Lord Fenrys almost laughed at the alarmed look on the owner's face when she began lamenting to him instead and then looked over at the lady who was staring at the door with a thoughtful look, as if wondering whether or not to attempt an escape.
She must have decided in it's favour because she gathered her skirts and made a mad dash towards the door.
Fenrys realised he was standing in her way and hastened to move but it was too late—
"Darn!" cried she.
The commotion drew her mother's attention and upon spotting her wayward daughter lying on the floor with a grimace, she rushed over with a whole new litany of complaints.
Fenrys could have sworn the lady cursed under her breath.
"Stubborn, stubborn child! I told you not to run off without me but oh, how you love vexing me," shouted her mother in her high-pitched voice. "And what are you doing, bothering this fine gentleman over here? You had better not to talk to anyone if you are determined to refuse them all. You broke that poor man's heart—"
Fenrys quirked an eyebrow in interest, looking thoroughly entertained.
Her cheeks flushed further.
He frowned.
Up close, her face looked awfully familiar. He searched his brain for an answer.
A memory flashed in front of his mind. A highly unconventional black dress, a tinkling laugh and a ballroom.
Realisation dawned.
"Miss Sardothein! Fancy seeing you here," said he. "I almost didn't recognise you because of the hair."
"The hair? Oh, yes, I am very fond of dyes, but you have caught me in my natural state."
"I find you lovelier than ever. If you will forgive me for prying, I could not help but observe you haven't bought a thing yet, even though I know you to be a great reader! Is the reading material not to your taste, Miss Sardothein?"
Celaena answered wryly, "As a matter of fact, the books here suit my tastes very well—It is only that I am not allowed to buy books for a month—as punishment."
"No books! And what awful crime did you commit to merit that?"
"I rejected a marriage offer."
"A capital offense!"
Celaena smiled, "Indeed."
"I hope you are appropriately ashamed of yourself!"
"Horrified at my own audacity, really."
The lady looked up at him and grinned; Fenrys' own face turned pale and his mouth fell open in surprise. Ashryver eyes! She had ashryver eyes—like James, Aedion, and their mothers Helen and Evalin and—gods. The little poem his cousins had made up in childhood came to the forefront of his mind.
"The fairest eyes, from legends old,
Of brightest blue, ringed with gold."
But how...?
He looked at the woman again: her eyes bright and mirthful and thick eyelashes resting on her cheek, the face tugged at his memory; and she smiled so impishly, he had seen that smile before—
"Aelin," he blurted out.
He was startled when her smile dropped and recognition flickered in her eyes.
Fenrys shot an alarmed look towards the shelf behind which James had disappeared. Aelin was here! But how could this be? His heart thumped loudly inside his chest.
"Aelin?" She inclined her head in question.
He smiled uncertainly.
Was she really his little cousin? Aelin had been five year old when he last saw her.
But if he was wrong about this, could this come to bite him in the ass? She was certainly as old as his cousin would have been, had she been alive and she had the same unruly blonde curls and those ashryver eyes, teeming with life.
It couldn't be...
Arobynn's adoptive daughter.
"Yes, Aelin was my favourite cousin—you, uh, you remind me of her."
"If she is your favourite, then I am inclined to take that as a compliment." Celaena—Aelin?—smiled again, though her eyebrows remained drawn still. "The name does sound familiar. Perhaps I would have heard of her in the newspaper? The society column is a great source of amusement to my father. He reads it aloud to us from time to time."
Father? He wondered if she was talking of Arobynn or Mrs. Rhunn's husband.
Fenrys smiled sadly. "That is not possible for you see, my cousin died when she was five."
At least I thought she died.
"I am sorry for your loss." Then, with an arch look on her face, she asked, "If she was like me as you say, she must have been delightful."
He chuckled. "An absolute troublemaker."
"Definitely like me then," said she, sparing a look towards her mother. "I should leave now, before my mother lists you off as yet another suitor!"
And before he could think to stop her, she curtsied and scurried off.
Fenrys stared at the door, somewhat dumbfounded. Aelin is alive. He marvelled at the thought and then wondered how on earth he would inform her family—James would be ecstatic and his father would have to be informed, and Edward would have to be called to London, gods. Edward!
Aelin had been missed by all but no one grieved her as the poor man had.
Edward would be ecstatic; everyone would.
Fenrys ran towards his cousin out of breath, who was still examining titles in one corner.
"Fenrys, god, slow down, man! Whatever happened? You look like you saw a ghost."
He blinked.
Then, without any attempt at tact or discretion, he blurted out: "Aelin is alive."
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"Aelin, Aelin, stop that—no, look at your frock, mother will be so angry, no, Aelin! You will hurt yourself like that."
The man watched, concealed behind the ridge as a little girl skipped from one mud puddle to another, blonde curls bouncing up and down as she moved. Her elder brother followed at a more sedate place, calling out admonishments and threats, not that they had an effect on her.
Aelin grinned over her shoulder and ran, leading her brother on a merry chase.
The man was still debating how to go about abducting the girl when fortune smiled upon him; she twisted her leg and fell down, prompting the boy to run towards her.
"It hurts," she whimpered, refusing to stand.
The man smiled maliciously and waited as the boy looked around. "Very well," he said finally. "If you promise not to go anywhere, I will fetch papa. Do not move, Aelin."
The boy rushed towards the manor house, ignoring the twisted knots in his stomach and burst into his father's private study. In his panicked state of mind, it took a few attempts for Rhoe to make sense of his garbled words.
A foreboding feeling rose in his stomach.
She will be fine, he tried to reassure himself. Aelin, troublemaker that she was, had had a lot worse than a twisted ankle.
But his alarm grew the nearer they came to where she was supposed to be and his heart pounded inside his chest. All colour drained from his face when they didn't find Aelin where she was supposed to be.
"Are you certain this is where you left her?"
Edward nodded.
Rhoe suddenly felt dizzy, his knees buckled and bile rose up in his throat.
He reined himself in and with admirable composure, organised search parties to search around the estate and the neighbourhood.
The search carried on until late that night, when an express rider from the nearby magistrate arrived with a letter: a nearby warehouse had burned down earlier that day and two bodies were found: a man in his forties, who could not be identified and a seven year old girl who had on a silver anklet bearing the word fireheart and requested Mr. Galathynius' presence tomorrow at the warehouse to confirm the girl's identity.
Rhoe folded the letter, excused himself from company and sent his sons to their beds.
Then he entered his study: the study no one was allowed to enter without permission—except his Aelin—slumped into the armchair by the fireplace and wept.
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note: ...and it's here. I have so many drafts of this chapter lying around, I'm surprised I actually finally posted it lmao.
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the-haven-of-fiction · 4 years ago
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Not A Christmas Movie
Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T
Summary:  Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve. 
Author’s Notes:  My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all!  Move over, Hallmark!  I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it.  Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.  
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The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors.  The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.   
“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again!  We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.
“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”  
She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.  
“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions?  Was that when you played Scrooge?  Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”
Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.  
“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.
“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”
“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.
They both groaned when nothing happened.  No electricity, no heat.
“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.”  He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin.  Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.  
“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke.  “How about that.  Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”
“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.
“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.  
“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”
“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.”  She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches.  “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”
“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied.  “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”
“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”
He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.
“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”
Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.
The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations.  The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.
“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom.  “And there’s running water in the sink!”
“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”
“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.
He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern.  She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.  
“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers.  That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.
She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.  
“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”
He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.
“I still remember the day you were born.  I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”
Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.  Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection?  It must be this ridiculous situation.  And the holiday.  And her birthday.  And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define.  Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend.  But more than a friend, in that sense?  College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer.  She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.  
“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.”  She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.
“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.
“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman.  Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.”  She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.
His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.
“Do you like your name?”
The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.
“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it.  In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”
A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind.  Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.
“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said.  And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”
He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.
“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”
He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.  
Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck.  The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.
He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.
“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”
Good heavens, the bed, she thought.  As in one bed.  
As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.  
In a cabin that was being renovated.  With no power or heat.  
On Christmas Eve.  
This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.
“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.  
A distraction.  She needed a distraction.
“Oh!  I just remembered!  I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”
Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow.  Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets.  Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her.  About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack.  He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.  
She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over.  It was impossible.  He wasn’t interested.  He was just being Tom.  Typical Tom.  Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room.  She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  
Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.
“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”
“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off.  He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be.  She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?
“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.
She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.
He didn’t jerk back in shock.  Or horror.
It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.
Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes. 
“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.
“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.
“I, uhm…”
“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”  
His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.
Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.
“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.
“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip. 
The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.
“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.
She kissed him, again.  Longer, lingering.
They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.
“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.
He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.
“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.
“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”
Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.  
“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.
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