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threestarsinline · 8 months ago

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Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part I)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 13.6K (total of 29.2K)

Category: Lots and lots of fluff. Like, LOTS (plus some mutual pining, idiots in love, slow burn? and friends to lovers, and therefore, what all of that entails, mwah)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here's the proof that yes, I was writing hehehe. Anyway, enjoy this monster of a two-part fic, peace and love babes

>Part II

You loved your job. You really truly did. It might seem like a bold statement to make but when you spend your day to day in a quiet, lovely and vintage styled bookshop owned by the most wonderful couple of old people that you have ever met, who also treat you as their own granddaughter, you know that you could have it a lot worse in Gotham. You often forget that they are technically your bosses, or co-workers as they always corrected you when you referred to them as such.

Rose and Jimmy hired you a long time ago now, when they weren’t able to run the bookshop fulltime by themselves anymore due to the rise of popularity of the place (even though the customers were still just a close community of people from the neighborhood). And also because, after decades of running the bookshop, they wanted to finally kind of retire and do a few travels to places they wanted to see or visit their children scattered throughout the country.

So there you were, practically running all by yourself a small but successful business each week.

However, you weren’t bothered at all, it was perfect for you: working alone with no annoying co-workers or stressful deadlines, a flexible schedule since Rose and Jimmy would replace you here and there whenever you needed it and giving you free days out of the blue.

It also didn’t hurt that the job allowed you to stay in touch with the thing that you loved the most: books. Pages, full of stories that could transport you anywhere, to any time. Words, creating characters that became your family and made you laugh while also breaking your heart with their tragedies. And the possibility of sharing all of this with the people who came into the bookshop from all kinds of different backgrounds made it all even better.

Let’s just say that you couldn’t believe your luck when you got this job. Your day to day consisted of, among other things, attending customers, organizing the bookshelves, doing inventory and most of all: reading. There were certain moments of the day in which the shop was quite uneventful so you would seize those moments by doing all the reading that you could.

You really thought that you couldn’t love your job more. But that was until a gorgeous and very mysterious young man with a white streak in his hair started coming every week into the shop and giving you a smile every time that he left.

You got it bad.

And your crush on Jason Todd did nothing but increase. You were sure that that man was going to be the death of you.

The first time that Jason walked into the bookshop you were surprised to say the least. You had never seen him in the shop before yet he walked towards a section in the bookshelves of the back with firm and secure steps.

He came back to the register with three children’s books to check out. That surprised you even more. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person that you would expect to get children’s books. He had a rough appearance with his tall frame, dark hair and (fake) leather jacket.

But he was nothing but polite as he greeted you and handed you his bookshop card.

The shop also acted as a library with several books, Rose and Jimmy having implemented the idea after there was an attack at the public library that left the place in reforms for months.

It also allowed the people who couldn’t buy books that regularly to still be able to have new books since you only had to pay for the card when you first got it and pay the small fee for the membership every two months. Or every month if you wanted more perks like extended loans or not having a limit on the amount of books allowed to be checked out.

Most of that money was also directly donated to different causes in Gotham like orphanages and homeless shelters. The community loved Rose and Jimmy for all of that, it was like they were their guardian angels, some customers had told you that they were godsent.

As you proceeded to scan the books that the mysterious young man had brought you, you realized that his card was fairly new and came to the conclusion that Rose must have given it to him the week before, when you had your free day.

“Do you have The Rainbow Fish? I tried to look for it but I couldn’t find it.” He spoke up and you looked up at him, surprised once more, since most people either loved or hated that book.

“Uhm. If it’s not on the shelf, it must have been checked out. Let me see.” You looked it up on the computer. “Yeah, someone took it a few days ago. We should have it by next week, I can keep it in reserve for you if you’d like.” The information seemed to please him since his face lighted up and he let out a sigh of relief.

“That would be great, thank you.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.” You gave him back the books and his card and as you looked at him you realized that he had a very nice smile. You wondered if he would come back often to the bookshop.

“You too.” He said as he opened the door.

And in fact, he did come back to the bookshop rather often, at least once a week and always looking for children’s books. You were very curious about it since it wasn’t very common to see a man like him taking so many children’s books with him.

You couldn’t help but speculate, maybe he was close with kids in his family or maybe he did some kind of volunteering. Either way, you weren’t going to ask, it was out of place and you didn’t know him.

Then, he started checking out other books, this time fiction and most of all classic literature. He sometimes even bought the ones that really brought out his attention. He would always strike up friendly conversation with you as he came to the counter with new books to buy or check out, asking you about some book or asking you for recommendations.

On your most brave days, not really knowing what you were doing, you would even make a comment about the books that he was taking with him and he answered you with enthusiasm, commenting on them with you.

Soon, you were on a first name basis with him and something similar to a friendship blossomed between you two. You started giving snippets of each other's lives, you telling him about a show that you were watching that you really liked or him telling you about one of his siblings’s latest shenanigans.

Jason coming into the shop became something that you looked forward to and Rose and Jimmy, who some days spend the day in the shop helping you out, also saw how close you two were becoming.

Jason even befriended them too and the owners soon treated him like a grandson just like they had done with you so long ago. Jimmy sometimes shoved in his hand his famous homemade cookies and Rose tried to give him a discount for the books that he bought but Jason, like always, refused to accept it.

“What? You’re supposed to leave them inside, it’s on the delivery contract.” You add frustrated.

“Whatever you say. Not my problem.” The new delivery man doesn’t even look at you as he recklessly puts the last of the boxes of new book orders on the sidewalk.

Looking at the now damaged box you grimace. You really hoped that the books inside were okay. They were like your babies.

The man takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on top of one of the boxes knowingly, looking you dead in the eyes as if challenging you to say something else.

You know that starting a confrontation would get you nowhere, it would be better to file a complaint later that you know would have consequences for him since the delivery service and the bookshop had always had a trusting relationship.

So, knowing to pick your battles, you put on a smile and thank him. The man seems surprised at that, surely used to having excuses to play the bully. He just huffs, gets on the truck and leaves. You nod to yourself proudly, you won. But your small, triumphant moment ends as soon as you see the large number of boxes that you now have to carry inside on your own.

Oh, how you missed Charlie.

Charlie was the delivery man before he retired. It had been his job for more than fifty years and even now he was as strong as ever and he had always helped you with the boxes and made you laugh with his adventures from his younger years.

You always gave him a cup of coffee from the machine in the small back room that worked as a break room as he tried to set you up with his grandchildren. Telling you how amazing they were and how one of them was about to become a doctor.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sure they’re great.” You would always tell him. Because they did sound nice but none of them lived in Gotham. Charlie then would fake a disappointed sigh but the crinkles of a smile around his eyes would always appear.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind, sweetie.” A pause. “Though you should forget about trying here, there isn’t anyone worthy in this godforsaken city.” He would joke.

“Except you, Charlie.” You’d say brightly while winking at him jokingly. And then he would laugh the way only one can when they are satisfied with their life and as happy as they can be, something very rare.

“Don’t let Mary hear you, I know she doesn’t look like it but she can throw a punch.” His eyes would shine with love as he mentioned his wife.

“I don’t doubt it.” You’d answer.

You are brought out of your memories when a voice calls your name.

“Y/N, hi.” You turn to see Jason and you can't help the immediate smile that makes its way across your lips.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good. I was just about to go in when I saw you out here. What’s all of this?” He looks around at all the boxes that the pedestrians were avoiding.

“Delivery day.” You say as you take one of the boxes in your arms. His eyes widen. With that funny expression on his face he looked cute, which made him even more handsome than usual. It wasn’t even fair.

Focus, Y/N.

“And you always do this alone?”

“No, the new delivery guy is just an idiot. Charlie always helped me.”

“Charlie?” He raises an eyebrow as he too grabs a box from the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping you.” He replies without hesitation, you shake your head.

“I can’t let you do that, you’re a customer.”

“It’s no problem. Plus, this way you will finish this earlier and you can recommend me another book after the heartbreak that you gave me with the last one.”

“Sorry.” You say, trying to contain a giggle. He narrows his eyes at you.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” You confess, this time laughing freely.

You didn’t know it but Jason thought that you looked beautiful. Even more so than some days, if that was even possible, with the wind carrying your laugh to him and rustling your hair. God, he was in deep.

“So, are you going to let me help you or not?”

“Fine.” You finally comply.

And as you two enter the boxes he repeats his question from earlier. “Well, who’s Charlie?”

“Oh, just the best delivery old man you will ever meet.” You answer, your affection for the man clearly present in your voice.

“Do you collect them?”

“What?” You ask confused.

“Grandparents, old people. You have your own grandparents, Rose, Jimmy and now I learn about this Charlie. Do you collect them?” You smile at his comment. Truth was, he had a point.

“Well, I guess you could say that. In fact, now that I think about it, most of my friends are old people. I mean, it kind of makes sense, my perfect Friday night is staying at home reading with a hot chocolate.” For a moment silence settles between you and you worry that you might have overshared and that you were creeping him out.

“You’re an old soul.” He finally says. And the way that he does so makes you stop, like he admires you for it, as if he likes the peace that comes with such a statement.

“Maybe.” You reply, resuming your step.

“I wish I could do that.” You arch an eyebrow. “Stay at home at night during the weekends and just relax.” He adds.

“Why’s that?”

“I work nights.”

“Oh. It must be hard.”

“Yeah, sometimes it is.” After saying that his gaze gets lost, as if for a moment he wasn’t there with you anymore, but deep into his thoughts and memories.

“Do you have any? Grandparents, I mean.” You say to distract him and bring him back.

“Just one, Alfred. Although he is in more the middle of being a father and a grandfather. He raised me along with Bruce.” As soon as he says that, you know that he is just as surprised at himself as much as you are at the confession since it is by far the most personal thing that he had ever shared with you.

It is also clear that there was a lot of history behind that statement. It seems a serious matter and the other times that you two talked, he mostly kept it lighthearted with you.

The mysterious man that had first entered into the bookshop had let you see a crack in him. He trusts you. Or at least, he was beginning to do so in a more personal way. You only feel lucky that you are being able to get closer to him.

You sense how his instinct to flight was about to strike, clearly not used to this kind of situation and being awkward about how to manage it. So, you decide to change the topic, in what you think is a smooth way, to relax the ambience and to selfishly see if you could keep him at your side just a little bit longer.

“Well, I can share Rose and Jimmy with you then. As long as you don’t steal my spot as their favorite bookshop grandkid.” Just as you finish talking you see him visibly relax, his tense shoulders acquiring a more loosen stance.

Then, almost unnoticeably, a small smile forms on his lips and another one makes its way to your own.

“Deal.” He ends up saying.

After you both bring in all the boxes, and you check them into the inventory, you open them to put the books in the correspondent shelves. You turn to thank Jason for the help but he's already passing you some of the books for you to place them.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do this. You already did too much.”

“Nope. I’m not leaving.” He just hands you the books in his grasp and grabs some more. You stand there stunned. Where did this gorgeous kind man come from?

“Okay. At least let me give you a coffee.” You go to the break room and not even a moment later, after quickly asking him how he liked it, not even giving him the option to refuse it, you return with a cup in your hands. He whispers a thank you and when you hand it to him, his fingers so lightly graze yours, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“You don’t want one?” He asks, seeing that you had only brought a single cup.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee much.” He nods and then you get to work, looking at the books, classifying them and ordering them.

Jason keeps passing them to you and sipping the coffee in the comfortable silence. He’s glad that you’re so concentrated because that way you won’t notice how entranced he is with you. He watches you and just by your movements he knows that you’re in your element. It was clear that you enjoyed what you did.

At some point, you start humming a repertoire of the songs from Beauty and the Beast, probably without realizing it. Jason doesn’t mention it, knowing that most likely you would become ashamed and stop.

So, Jason lets the moment pass by, your company and the peaceful atmosphere of the bookshop making a warm feeling wash over him. Making him feel safe and relaxed. Something that didn’t usually happen to him, but that being in the bookshop and in your presence, always made him feel that way.

When he eventually left, you didn’t even realize that he had done so without taking any book with him.

“Hey.”

The sudden voice makes you stumble on the ladder that you were on to return a book to its place in one of the top shelves. You know that there is nothing that you can do to prevent your fall but still in a hopeful attempt, you drop the book that was in your hand to the floor, and extend your arms to try and gain some balance.

All of this happens in milliseconds and even then, you have time to exclaim “Jesus!” from the surprise, preparing yourself in any way you can for your imminent fate.

However, just as fast as it all happened, a hand settles on your waist to stabilize you and another one grips the ladder to stop its wobbling. And just like that, you’re back on your feet again. You look down and there he is.

Your knight in shining leather jacket.

“Not exactly but close enough.” Jason can’t help replying to your previous exclamation. It had never crossed his mind before but now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he has something quite peculiar in common with the biblical figure. With all the ‘been dead done that’ stuff. The weird coincidence and his own comment making him chuckle to himself.

You also huff out a small laugh, not at his comment, that you couldn't possibly fully understand, not yet, but at your own clumsiness. Laughing being almost always your immediate reaction whenever you fell or, like in this case, almost did.

“Oh my god, thank you.” You say relieved with a thankful smile on your face.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry actually, you almost died because of me.”

“No, don’t worry, you just surprised me. Plus, me and high places have never been a great combination.” He chuckles at your comment and you smile in return.

Much to your disappointment, he lets go of your waist, but it doesn’t last long as he holds out his hand for you to help you come down from the ladder. You know that he’s just being polite and that you should finish what you were doing on the ladder but after the brief scare you’d like to put your feet on firm ground again for even just a small bit.

That, and the fact that you would take any chance that you could get to be close to Jason and hold his hand. Honestly, who wouldn’t?

So, you accept his hand and, just to be even more safe and avoid any possible risk of course, not for any other reason, you support yourself on his shoulder on the way down. He leads you to the ground with a small smile on his face and then sadly, lets go of your hand.

You miss the contact instantly.

“There we go.” He says, so low, that it’s almost like a whisper.

You take a moment to address him and look him over, the feel of his strong shoulder under your hand still tickling your fingers at your side. And for a split second, just a tiny little one, you wish that you had actually fallen from the ladder so that he could have caught you in his arms.

Damn it.

Now that the idea had occurred to you, you would think about it for days.

Jason leans down to retrieve the book that you had dropped earlier and with an ease and balance that you could only dream of, he returns it to the open spot that you had been reaching for on the top shelf. It makes you both jealous and in awe of the way in which he can almost effortlessly do so. Even though even he had to step onto the first step of the ladder to reach it.

Stupid tall attractive people.

Jason enters the bookshop excited to see you. He hadn’t been able to come by for a few days and he did not like it one bit. Coming to see you were the best parts of his week, because if he was being honest, the books themselves had stopped being a motivator a long time ago.

Probably the second or third time that he had visited the bookshop.

He was just thankful that you didn’t seem to notice that you were the main reason that he came by. You would probably think that he was being creepy. However, much to his dismay, Rose and Jimmy were very much aware of how much he liked you.

They always had that knowing smile whenever they saw you two talking and they definitely knew about the insane amount of books that he checked out weekly as an excuse to see you. Books that were impossible for him to read from one visit to another in such a short amount of time and that just spent several days stacked in his house.

Thankfully, for the moment, they had never said something to you or directly commented it to him either, as they wisely knew that you two needed to take things at your own pace.

He closes the entrance door behind him and his brows furrow in confusion not seeing you behind the counter, where he would usually find you reading or taking care of a customer. Maybe you’re in the bathroom, doing something in the break room or organizing the shelves.

But then, Rose emerges from the break room behind the counter greeting him.

Oh.

A slight feeling of disappointment settles in him. It’s not that he didn't like Rose, he really enjoyed chatting with her, he just really wanted to see you. And if Rose was here maybe you weren’t working today. But it couldn’t be, you always worked Thursdays.

Not that he had paid any attention to your schedule or anything.

Then it suddenly occurs to him that maybe you have taken the day off. He’s as happy for you as much as he’s disappointed. Everyone knew that you worked too much for your own good.

Still, the selfish part of him wanted to spend just a tiny little bit of time with you.

“Good afternoon, Rose. How are you?” Jason finally greets back.

“I’m good, sweetie, just checking day. And you?”

“Glad to hear it. I’m fine too. Just came in looking for…” Damn it, he didn’t even prepare an excuse of a book. A few seconds trail on and Jason still doesn’t say anything.

“For a…” He had been caught like a deer in headlights. He avoids Rose’s intense gaze that was still set on him waiting for him to say something. This is so embarrassing. And he was supposed to be one of the daring vigilantes of Gotham?

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

He could face villains but he couldn’t come up for an excuse to see you. Jason clears his throat.

“For a…” Jason’s starting to worry that he has entered some sort of self loop and is about to facepalm himself for his own stupidity when Rose’s lips break into a wide grin and she chuckles. She was messing with him. Like always, she definitely knew what exactly he was in there for. Jason smiles and lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s on her break.” Rose says, nodding his head in your direction, towards the shelves.

“Thank you.” Jason turns to go find you when Rose speaks up once again.

“Oh and, by the way, since you’re on it, can you get her for me please? I want to tell her something and I’m about to meet Jimmy for lunch.”

“Of course.” He answers while Rose gives him a thankful smile.

Jason starts to pace through the bookshelves, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found.

Until he passes by between a couple of them and sees something on the floor. He takes a couple of steps back and there you are, sitting on the floor with books about to be shelved, he supposes, and a book in your own hands that must have had you so immersed and distracted that you hadn’t heard him come in, nor his conversation with Rose.

A fond smile makes an appearance on his lips. He loved seeing you like this, in the place that you loved most, doing what you loved most, lost in a book. He realizes that he would never get tired of that sight. Still, it’s an intimate and private moment for you and he doesn’t want to linger too much on it and intrude. Plus, Rose was looking for you.

“Hi.” He says softly as to not startle you, after the scare from the last time. Which by the way, had been replaying in his head over and over again, the electrifying feeling of your hand in his forever engraved in his mind.

“Y/N.” He tries.

Nothing. That book really had you in a trance. He huffs a small laugh and takes a couple of steps closer to you, hands in his pockets.

“Earth to Y/N.” You let out a small hum to acknowledge him but your gaze is still fixed on the ink. He’s about to call you again when you finally get out of your trance and steal a quick look to see who had talked to you.

Your eyes widen like plates, probably realizing that you had spent too long reading on the floor. You quickly get up and Jason notices how even in your distressed state, you close the book with care and slightly organize the mess around you, your hands treating each book carefully.

He wonders if you would treat him with the same carefulness and affection. For a split second, he even wishes it was him that your hands were treating and not books. Jealousy over books. Huh, that was new.

He also couldn’t help but wonder if you were that way with everything. If even when you weren’t at your best, or going through something, treating things, people, the world around you with care and kindness came as second nature to you, sometimes without even realizing it. He had a feeling that the answer was yes.

And once again, he realizes how much the dark part of his life clashed so much with yours. But before he can get too much into his own head, once more, just like several times before, you bring him back.

“Oh my god, Jason, I’m so sorry.” You start, taking the few steps that separated you from him. “I don’t know how it happened, I swear. God, were you waiting a lot?” He doesn’t like the worry settled on your features one bit, like always, making him feel uneasy. Like the other previous few times that he has seen you like this, he makes it his mission and his top priority to change it.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry.” You nod while your tense posture finally seems to relax a bit. “You okay?” He adds.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… Got a little bit distracted.” You say as you retrieve the books from the floor and your head motions towards them. Jason smiles at you, knowing the feeling of being so engrossed in a book that everything else faded away.

“Rose was looking for you by the way. She was about to head out to meet Jimmy.”

“Oh, right.”

When you both go back towards the counter and you take your usual spot behind it, Rose is already putting her coat on and about to leave.

“I’m so sorry Rose, I got myself carried away and…” You start but Rose stops you with a shake of her head.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving now.” You let out a sigh of relief. You really have the best bosses in the world.

“Okay, have a nice lunch.”

“Thank you, darling. Goodbye kids.”

“Goodbye.” Both you and Jason say. And just before Rose closes the door behind her, she winks at you and you feel your cheeks warm at the unspoken insinuation. Enjoy your time alone. You steal a quick look at Jason, hoping that he hasn’t seen Rose’s wink and sigh in relief when you see that he’s already turned towards you, facing away from the door.

Though, now that you think about it, you could swear that it was Jimmy the one that was supposed to meet Rose at the bookshop today, not the other way around. That woman was too smart for her own good.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” You ask Jason once you turn towards him.

“I…” Quick, Jason, think. “Could you extend my loan for the book from last week?” Nice save.

“Sure.” As you click on the computer, Jason takes a look at the stack of books that you had brought back with you from the shelves and that you have left on the counter.

“What got you so entranced back there?”

“Oh.” You say and you turn to the stack of books. Your eyes shining with excitement now. “We just got these new Jane Austen hardcovers and they’re just so gorgeous, look.”

You take the one on top of the stack, the one that you had been reading, and hand it to him. Pride and Prejudice. He takes it from your hands, your fingertips slightly grazing one another’s. Jason looks at the cover that feels soft yet sturdy in his hands. It was simple with just the title of the book and Austen’s name but the intricate and beautiful designs that decorated it made it, as you had said, a gorgeous edition.

“Wow. These are great.” He says with childlike wonder lacing his tone. He opens the book and his eyes skim over the pages and passages that he has read so many times before.

“I know, right? I was just admiring them one last time before putting them on the shelves and I just opened one to read a couple of paragraphs but next thing I know, I was ten pages in. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You confess. Jason laughs softly.

“Don’t worry, that’s just the Jane Austen effect. I get it, it happens to me too.” You can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, blinking slowly, processing the newfound information. Thankfully, he’s still engrossed in the book.

This man likes Jane Austen? Is he trying to kill you or something? As if you couldn’t like him even more.

“You like Austen?” You ask, still a bit in disbelief, though it doesn’t really surprise you, since from the very beginning you had noticed how he was a very cultured person and how he had a great taste in books.

How sexy is that? To you, very. Very sexy.

“I love her. Basic, I know, but this one’s my favorite.” He answers as he puts the book back on top of the stack. As if anything in him could be basic, as if you don’t find him to be one of the most fascinating persons that you have ever met in your entire life.

“It’s not basic, it’s great. I love it too but I think that I prefer Northanger Abbey.” You pause. “Or Persuasion.” You pause again. “Or Emma.” You pause to think once more and Jason looks at you amused, loving how passionate you are when talking about it. “Or… Okay well, I love all of them! I can’t choose just one.” Jason smirks.

“Perfectly valid and understandable answer.” He says. You both look at each other for a second too long and then his phone starts ringing, breaking the moment. You give a slight jump and busy yourself going back to finish renewing his loan on the computer.

But to your surprise, he just takes it out of his pocket, looks quickly at the screen and directly hangs up. You raise an eyebrow but continue with your task, a small smile making its way across your lips, flattered that he prefers to keep talking to you rather than picking up his phone.

“Well, done. You have another week to…” You’re interrupted when his phone rings again. Jason huffs annoyed and silences it again.

“Sorry.” He says. You shake your head.

“It’s okay.” The phone rings a third time. It must be really important. “Though I think you should take it.” Jason looks at his phone in his hands, then at you, back at his phone, and then at you again, still doubtful, but you nod encouragingly. He seems torn and undecided, but he finally nods to himself and gives you an apologetic look before answering.

“What?” He says annoyingly, taking a couple of steps away from the counter as you pretend to check things on the computer and try (and fail) not to eavesdrop.

He’s going to kill Steph. He really is. She never calls him and now there is something so important that she has to call him three times and interrupt his talk with you? It better be good.

“Heyyy. Jaybiiird. My bestieeee, the best vigilante in Gotham that there is.” Jason can already start to feel a headache forming, he brings a palm to his face and then runs it through his hair. You watch the gesture with envy. How many times had you daydreamed about doing the very same gesture? Probably too many.

“I can’t talk right now.” He quickly glances at you, still at the computer. This is stupid.

“Pleaseeee, I need your help.” At her pleading tone Jason sighs tiredly and pinches his nose, even though he knows that he shouldn’t be listening. With the way that she’s talking it’s probably a stupid favor or something, he would much rather be talking with you.

“Steph, what do you want?”

Steph? At that your head perks up slightly. His girlfriend, maybe? Your shoulders deflate thinking of the possibility. He had never mentioned having one but you also had never asked. Why would you even ask? You’re just friends, or something like that, it would seem like it was coming out of nowhere. As your thoughts keep spiraling and you stare blankly at the screen in front of you, Jason carries on with his conversation.

“You’re going to laugh…” Steph starts.

Jason rolls his eyes, catches your eyes and mouths my sister. You just nod and your spiraling thoughts stop abruptly. Thank god. Although the possibility of him having a girlfriend is still there, now that you don’t have to face it directly, you decide not to linger too much on it. Keeping the thought away and trying to ignore it, just like you had been doing since you met him. That’s a future problem for future you.

Jason changes his phone from one ear to the other as he listens to Steph stumble through her words. If she’s going to keep beating around the bush, he might as well hang up.

“Okay, bye.” He’s about to end the call when Steph speaks up again.

“I lost Damian.” Jason’s eyes widen as he turns to his other side.

“You what?” He whisper-shouts into the phone.

“Okay so, Damian is grounded, okay? Something about driving the batmobile without permission and then…”

“Steph.” Jason warns through gritted teeth, clearly meaning go to the point.

“Okay, okay! So, I’m on babysitting duty alright? And Damian had been talking non stop about this new limited art exposition in the museum that he wanted to go to and that it wasn’t fair that he was grounded and blah blah blah.”

“Okay, and?”

“And… Well, there was this new season of this show coming out today and I just got distracted for a bit and then he kinda… Disappeared?” God. Jason closes his eyes in frustration. His family really knew how to be the most infuriating at the worst of times. He stays silent for a moment mentally cursing them before opening his eyes again.

“Told you you were going to laugh…” Steph repeats at his silence and Jason sighs, making you giggle quietly at the sibling interaction. Jason smiles at the sound.

“So what? Just go to the museum after him.” He finally answers.

“That’s the thing, I am at the museum and I just can’t find him. Damn that kid and his ninja training.” Steph hisses through the line. “Can you come and help me find him please?” He could hear her pouting.

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one that picked up.” And now he was sure that she was smiling innocently but full of mischief. Jason huffs. As soon as he saw Steph’s name on his screen he knew that he shouldn’t have picked up.

“No.” He says.

“Come on, pleaseeee. I’ll owe you one. If I don’t find Damian I will be the one that’s grounded next.” Honestly, who had put her on babysitting duty? Who had even grounded Damian to begin with? It was impossible to try and control that kid.

Damn it, Bruce.

“Bruce can’t ground you.”

“Oh yes, he can. I’m sure he’ll find a way. He’ll make me go supervise Condiment King or something! Please, Jason, please." Jason sighs. “Please, please, please, please. I’ll do all the research that you need for a week!” Mmhm. That’s interesting. That would certainly leave him with more time to see you.

“A month.” He counteroffers and sees you smiling at his bickering, making his insides feel giddy. Steph groans.

“A month? You know that’s too much.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Silence.

“Arrrg, okay, okay! Well, we’ll talk about it, now, can you please come here?”

“With pleasure.” He says amused. Even though his family can be infuriating at times, he had to admit that they had their good moments and he enjoyed annoying them just as much as they did him.

“You’re so arrogant, oh my god. I pity whoever decides to put up with you.” Steph says and Jason can’t help but steal a glance in your direction.

“Just remember that you owe me a big one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just come here. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

“Okay.” Before he hangs up, he hears Steph speak up again.

“Hey Jaybird.” Jason hums. “Thanks.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Bye.”

“And say hi to Y/N for me-!” He hangs up before you can hear Steph’s loud teasing voice. He knew that talking about you in front of his family wasn’t the best of ideas but he just couldn’t help it. You occupied his thoughts a lot more than what he was willing to admit.

“Sorry.” He says as he approaches the counter once again and puts his phone in his pocket.

“It’s okay. Sibling drama then?” You ask playfully as you raise an eyebrow.

“You have no idea. It was Steph, she used to date one of my brothers. Tim.” You look at him confused.

“I thought you said she was your sister?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s… It’s complicated. That was how we met her but she’s like a sister to me now.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, we’re quite a mess.” He chuckles awkwardly, running his hand through his hair and the white streak once again. The movement, like always, has you hypnotized. It should be illegal. Jason thinks that he should just stop talking, now he has weirded you out with his stupid and crazy family.

“Aren’t we all?” You say softly as you tilt your head in the cutest of ways. Honestly, the more that he told you about his family, the more you realized how peculiar they were. But they seemed really close to each another, which was what really mattered.

“Yeah… I guess so.” He trails on as he gets lost in your eyes again. You nod and he shakes out of his daze. “Well, I should get going. Duty calls.” He adds as he nods towards the door and taps his fingers against his side of the counter nervously.

“Okay. Hope everything goes well with whatever it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time.” Something about the security of knowing that he will always come back, and that there will always be a next time with him, raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Yeah. Next time.” You both look at each other as he walks towards the door.

Something lingers in the air, as if both of you want to say something else but do not dare to do so. Do not dare to cross the invisible line in your strange friendship usually defined by the safety of the counter that almost always stayed between you two in your interactions.

Jason grabs the door handle and holds it open for a moment as you speak one last time.

“See you soon then?” It’s a stupid sentence, already remarking what you both have already said, but it’s as good of an excuse as any to make him stay just a few seconds longer.

“See you soon.” Jason nods smiling at you and then, the door closes behind him.

You’re reading at the counter when the bell on top of the door jingles. You look up, hoping to find green eyes but are met with a stressful boy looking around the shop. As if in his distressed state, he can’t find you behind the counter.

“Hi.” You say as you bookmark your page. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh. Hi. Yeah.” He says as he quickly approaches you. He shakes his head to move the hair out of his blue eyes and takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. His hunched posture and shaky mannerisms tells you that he hasn’t caught a break in a while. This poor boy needs a rest.

“I’ve been looking for this book everywhere and I can’t find it anywhere. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow, he loves mysteries and conspiracies and I need to find it. My brother told me that this is the best bookshop in all of Gotham and that you can find anything here.” He rambles as he gives you the piece of paper. You take the paper and look at the boy as he slightly bounces on his feet looking around the shop.

You raise an eyebrow. A distracted boy that seems to always be running and a brother that recommends the bookshop? Sounds quite familiar.

“Tim?” You can’t help but guess, though you’re still a bit unsure. Jason had mentioned him a few times and how his younger brother always seemed to be doing a hundred things at once. At that his bouncing stops abruptly and finally looks at you for more than a few fleeting seconds, suspicious of how you know his name.

“Sorry, hi. I’m Y/N. Jason comes here often and has mentioned you a few times.” You say nervously. The information seems to take a little bit longer than usual to register due to his distressed state but then when he finally recognizes you, his alert posture relaxes.

“Oh, Y/N! Hi, yes. I’m Tim. Nice to meet you.” He says as he holds out his hand and you shake it. “Jason talks about you too.” He adds. You feel your cheeks go warm.

“Well, nice to meet you too. Are you okay? You seem a bit stressed.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been putting together this party for my boyfriend and the gift is being so hard to find it’s giving me headaches. Please tell me that you can help me.”

“Of course.” You say. “But first, take a deep breath.” He looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you mean. “You need to rest and relax a bit if you want to make it to your boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow without dropping from exhaustion.” You nod encouraging him and then take a deep breath yourself so that he can imitate you. Thankfully, he does so after shaking his shoulders to release tension and then stays with his eyes closed, taking a moment.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He answers, opening his eyes.

You nod. “No problem. Let’s find that book.” You look at the piece of paper and type in the title and author of the book on the system. It’s a limited edition of a book about the old history of Gotham and thankfully, you have one copy in the storage room. “Got it. I’ll be right back.” Tim sighs in relief as you leave the counter.

When you come back, you bring the book and a cup of coffee from the break room with you.

“This is so that you can get home to rest until tomorrow without dying on the way.” You say as you slide the coffee towards him.

“Oh thanks, but it’s not necessary.” You stare at him, having clearly seen how the idea of coffee almost had him glowing.

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he goes to take the coffee but you keep the cup in place.

“Promise that when you get home, you will rest. Do not take anymore coffee so that you can keep organizing things.” Tim looks at you, your firm tone and kind intentions making him clearly see why Jason is so smitten with you. He can also easily see himself trusting you and becoming friends with you.

“Promise.” He says honestly. You nod, letting go of the cup. "If you want more milk or sugar-" You can't even finish the sentence as he shakes his head, having already taken the cup into his hands and taken a sip.

“Mm, not necessary. This is great. Thank you.”

You smile. “You’re welcome. Do you want to wrap the book?”

“Yes, please.” He says.

“The Rainbow Fish? Again?” You say chuckling as Jason puts it on the counter for what probably was the third or fourth time. You really were starting to run out of options wondering why he always checked out so many kids’ books. But it just felt very intrusive to ask, he never said anything more about it either, probably not wanting to talk about it much.

“Yeah.” He says as you scan the book and pass his card on the system.

“I loved this book when I was little.” A nostalgic look on your eyes as you gaze at the cover of the book, remembering the silver scales of the arrogant fish that he had to give away in order to be accepted instead of just being a nicer fish.

The message of the book in the end was good: not think of yourself as superior to others. But there was something about having to give up something that you were proud of and that was special about you in order to be accepted that always felt a little off putting to you when you grew up, especially when being kind could have just resolved everything.

“Though it sure as hell began my people pleasing problems.” You add giggling a bit without thinking. But when what you have said registers, you freeze, hands on the book and blank stare on them, not daring to look up at Jason.

Where the fuck did that come from?

You shut your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you die of embarrassment. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had definitely freaked him out. That’s it. He would walk out of the bookshop and never come back. Why would you even say that? You weren’t thinking, that’s it. It had just slipped. You had become so used to being able to be yourself and talk about everything with Jason that it just felt so easy and comfortable to say whatever was on your mind.

Finally, you decide to sentence your fate and just end with this terribly awkward conversation as soon as possible.

“Sorry.” You say. “I honestly don’t know where that came from.” Jason just chuckles though not in a mocking manner, but in an understanding way.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” He assures you. You look back down, missing Jason’s look of appreciation, loving your honesty and how flustered you were. He found it endearing. “Well, thanks.” He says as he goes to take the book on the counter.

Your whole body then tenses in alarm when you see the state of his hands, which until now, had been hidden in his pockets. Without thinking, once again, (seriously, what was wrong with you today?), you take his hands to take a closer look at them.

Jason lets out a small gasp as you do so and mentally smacks himself for letting you see his wounded knuckles, now him being the one that wanted to die of embarrassment. It was only so much that the gloves of his Red Hood gear could do to protect them.

“What happened?” You whisper, worry etched onto every single one of your features.

Fuck.

How had he been so careless? He should have bandaged them, hidden them better or put make up on them. He just wasn’t used to having someone worry about him and his wounds like you were right now. At his silence, you try again:

“Jason.” Now he was the one avoiding your gaze. But you persist, finally making eye contact with him. “What happened? Are you okay?” He wills himself to get out of his stupor and even though deep down he doesn’t want to, out of the soft touch of your hands too, bringing his own back to his sides.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I do boxing.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders. “It happens.” You raise an eyebrow, suspicious. It feels like something doesn’t fully add up.

You know that there are things that Jason isn’t telling you. He has made some strange comments before but you always let it go. You know that eventually, if he wants to, when he’s ready, he will tell you. God knows that you have your own things too.

But if there is something that you have learned about your growing friendship with Jason is that you both like to take things at your own pace. Trusting and becoming close with each other slowly but steadily.

Letting time do its work. Not forcing the flow of things. And you like it that way. Life is always everchanging so to have something so solid and safe like what you have with him, you want to treasure it and nurture it. Although all of that of course, doesn’t stop you from worrying about him and wanting to take care of him.

So, you just nod, accepting his explanation, but not without having a little bit of fun.

“I thought that in boxing you were supposed to wear gloves to avoid that very kind of injuries.” You say with a playful smile.

Shit.

Jason wants to facepalm himself. He really seemed to just have one brain cell whenever he was around you. At his lack of response you shake your head.

“Come, let me patch that up at least.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Jason.” You throw him a glance.

“Y/N.” He maintains your stare. Finally, a small smile escapes your lips and you put an end to the staring contest, rounding the counter and taking his hands once again and guiding him to the break room. Allowing yourselves this moment since there aren't any other customers in the store right now. Jason lets you, knowing that in the end, he will never be able to deny you anything.

Once in the break room, you sit him down at a chair by a table and leave for a moment before you return with a first aid kid. You sit down in front of him and look at him softly.

“Can I?” You motion towards his hands. Jason swallows and only finds the courage to nod slowly.

The knuckles are far from being the worst that they have ever been and Jason always tries to take care of them but he had just arrived home from patrol the night before so exhausted that he had only managed to clean them before passing out on his bed. Right now, they’re mostly just reddened with a couple of points in which the skin is broken.

Jason then finds out that he was right. When you take his left hand and start treating the wound, cleaning it again and applying some antiseptic on it, he sees that you treat him with the same care and thoughtfulness that you did with those books all those weeks ago.

Almost as if he was something delicate, something precious. If not more.

The beat of his heart quickens and he wonders if in the silence of the room, you can hear it.

This is the very first time that Jason has been back here, the setting of your interactions always being the open part of the bookshop and this change of scenario makes it seem like something has shifted between you two. Like you weren’t just employee and customer with a friendly relationship anymore but like you have a real friendship and a deeper connection.

The whole time, as you treat his other hand too and then slowly bandage both of them, Jason looks at you. He’s glad that you’re only fixed on his hands because that way he can take all the time that he wants to admire you.

The concentrated look in your eyes, the way that your eyebrows furrow in concentration, how you put a strand of hair that has fallen out behind your ear, and the occasional and very tortuous moment in which you bite your lip in concentration, being extra careful in not hurting him.

And that's when the weight of how much he feels for you falls on him. He was already aware of it before but now is when he can really feel the weight of it all. How what he feels for you is not just an infatuation or a crush, but something deeper that runs beneath his skin, crawling into him, taking root. Settling and making a home there.

“Done.” You whisper. And as you retract your hands from his, Jason wishes that he never had to part from your touch.

You put all the things that you used back into the first aid kit and try not to think about the impulse that you had, but that you thankfully had managed to repress, of kissing his knuckles when you finished bandaging them.

“Be careful, okay?” You say. Jason nods, admiring your work but when you don’t take your eyes off of him he answers:

“Yeah. Promise.” You nod satisfied. Then Jason remembers another promise that he had made. “Tim wanted me to thank you by the way. Bernard loved the book.” He says.

“Oh, that’s right! It was no problem, it was really great to meet him. How was his boyfriend’s party? Bernard’s I guess?” You say excited.

“Tim said it went great. And that thanks to you he didn’t fall asleep during it and was actually able to enjoy it.” You giggle in response when suddenly, Jason’s phone beeps and he takes a quick look. Firefly alert downtown. He jumps out of his seat.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thank you, really.” And faster than a bullet, he’s gone.

You sigh, shaking yourself out from the intimate moment and when you return to the counter, you see that in his hurry, Jason forgot to take The Rainbow Fish with him. You take the book and put it under the counter, keeping it for him for next time.

You’re running some errands when you see two large men crowding a little girl. She can’t be older than six and she’s clutching onto a teddy bear for dear life.

Anger and fear for the little girl rage inside you, it is broad daylight and there are quite a few people on the street, yet everyone seems to carry out their business ignoring the men trying to talk the girl into going with them. You knew how Gotham was but it seemed like the city always found a way to surprise you.

“Come on, your mommy told us to come get you.” You hear one of the men say to the girl as you quickly approach them.

“I don’t have a mom.” The girl manages to say, distrustful. And even though hearing that makes you sad, you admire the girl, you can tell that she’s smart.

“Can I help you?” You hiss as you put yourself between the two men and the girl, putting an arm out to keep her behind you. You see the two men exchange a look, clearly discussing if it is worth it to cause a scene in the middle of the street.

“No. We were just leaving.” One ends up saying, giving a clap to the back of the other, directing them away from you and the girl. As they turn to leave, they try to give one last look to the little girl but you move to block their line of sight.

When they turn the corner at the end of the street, you finally let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the confrontation didn’t escalate to anything more.

You knew you didn’t actually stand a great chance against them physically, and seeing how people were ignoring the situation before, you’re not sure that anyone would have helped you.

Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins as you turn and kneel on the floor to be eye level with the girl, who takes a step back in fear but you hold your hands up, trying to show her how you’re not a threat.

Now that you can see her clearly, you see how scared she really is. She is shaking slightly, still clutching her worn out teddy bear with tears in her eyes. Her clothes aren’t in the best state either and her shoes are two steps more from falling apart. Just by looking at her you can tell that she has to have spent nights on the street.

Your heart breaks. It really was unfair how many unfortunate people and kids lived in such dire situations in Gotham. Of course you knew that there were people trying to change things and do better like the vigilantes or normal people like you, that even if it was in the smallest of ways, always tried to help somehow. You did so by either giving away the clothes that you didn’t use anymore or doing donations whenever you could. But sometimes it still seemed like the bad outweighed the good.

“Hi, honey.” You say in a soft voice to try and calm the little girl. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

She stops backing up against the wall of the building, sniffs and rubs her eyes, before looking at you, deciding whether or not to trust you.

“Lily.” You hear her squeak out. Her grip on the teddy bear relaxes and she starts playing with its ear, still not looking directly at you.

“Hi Lily, it’s very nice to meet you.” You say as you extend a hand to her, wanting to give her some sense of normalcy. She slowly takes it and you give her a soft shake. “You okay?” She nods. “You know Lily, you were very brave standing up to those men.”

“They were bad” She says. You nod. “Jay always says not to trust strangers and much less big scary men.”

“He’s very right. Is he your brother?” Maybe you can help her get back to her family. If you managed to do so, it would be much better than bringing her to the police and then, sadly, most likely than not, forgotten in the foster care system.

“No. A friend. A very good friend.”

“Okay, good. That’s very important.” You look around, trying to see if somebody is looking for her. “Do you live nearby?”

“I think so.” She says shyly, you give her an encouraging look to see if she can give you any more information. “I was chasing a cat but I think that I took a wrong turn.”

“Okay. How about I go with you and try to find your way back?” You say as you stand back up. You’re happy to see that Lily doesn’t look scared anymore. Instead, she looks almost… Excited?

“Yes, please! I don’t want to miss it!” She says as she grabs your hand and starts walking in the direction that you suppose she came.

“Miss what?” You ask, but she’s already telling you everything about her teddy bear, who seems to be Batbear at night, fighting crime and kicking butt like the heroes in Gotham.

Turns out that Lily’s home was thankfully a lot closer than what you had expected. After asking her if she remembered a couple of streets and stores, she was able to find the right way back.

You finally reach an open space between two buildings that seems to work as a playground, with a rusty basket to play basketball on one side and several boxes and crates littering the corners. Several kids run around playing and chasing each other, most of them in the same condition as Lily.

A group of them surround a bench and you hear him before you see him.

“What do you mean Lily’s not here? Where is she?” He’s running a hand stressfully through his hair, looking around worriedly.

“Jason?” You ask transfixed.

Jason locks eyes with you and freezes, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly.

“Jay!” Lily’s excited voice filters through the air. You feel her dropping your hand and Jason’s eyes turn to her, relief washing over them. As she runs towards Jason, she extends her arms and he scoops her up and settles her on his waist effortlessly, Lily hugging his neck.

“Lily! Oh my god, where were you? We were all so worried. You’re always here when I arrive.” He says to her.

“I know, I'm sorry! Some bad men tried to take me. But don’t worry, Y/N helped me! She’s a badass!” Jason’s eyes widen at the new information and you see something in them that you had never seen before, a kind of anger that promises danger.

But as soon as that look comes, it disappears, and it makes you wonder if it was ever really there in the first place. He then looks at you, thankful but with a small tint of worry. You just give him a reassuring nod, telling him that everything is okay.

“Why don’t you go with the rest for a bit? I’ll be right there.” He says as he turns to Lily once more.

“Okay!” He settles her back down and she runs off to the other kids.

Jason approaches you quickly in a few strides, it feels like he wants to touch you, take your hands to make sure that you’re okay but he stops himself.

“You okay? What happened?”

“Yeah. I’m okay, don’t worry.” You tell him what happened and you can see how the anger returns to him in the way that he clenches his fists. “But we’re fine and they left so that’s all that matters.” You conclude.

“Where was it?” He asks firmly. You tell him the street where it all happened and Jason seems deep in thought for a moment, like searching for something in his mind. When he finally finds it, he nods resolutely as if he just made a mental note to do something later.

The determination in his eyes sends a chill running down your spine.

“Thank you for helping her.” He says then. “But be careful please, I don’t want you to be in danger.” The very thought makes him shiver, he doesn’t even want to entertain the possibility.

“I know. I am. I just couldn’t stand by.” You respond and he nods, knowing that that was how you were, always looking out for others.

“Anyway, thanks again.” He adds and you nod before looking around you once more.

It then dawns on you that this is the very first time that you are seeing Jason outside of the bookshop and it just feels so strange. When he first entered the shop, it seemed like he stood out like a sore thumb, with his tall frame, rough appearance and black leather jacket against the cozy backdrop of the shop. But now, after so much time, you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. Now it was like he didn’t fit into any other atmosphere other than at the bookshop.

“Well, and what are you doing here?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, I…”

“So you’re Y/N?” Interrupts a young teen with a knowing smile, followed by a group of other kids, including Lily, clearly having told them her latest adventure. You nod.

“Are you his girlfriend?” Asks another boy now, looking up at you. You let out a small laugh at the way Jason’s eyes widen almost comically at the kid’s boldness.

“No.” You respond, and for a second, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to answer otherwise.

“We’re friends.” Jason says.

“Very good friends.” You can’t help but add and when you steal a nervous glance at Jason, you find him nodding, agreeing with you. Because saying just ‘friends’ feels too simple to describe your relationship with Jason. And what you said still doesn't cover it.

“Really?” The teen boy from earlier asks again with a raised eyebrow. “Because he-” Jason grabs him and puts a hand over his mouth before he can keep talking, smiling innocently at you. You look at the chaotic situation amused.

“Are you staying for the reading?” Lily asks.

“The reading?” You ask confused.

“Yeah! Jason always reads to us and acts out the stories!” Another girl says. And then it clicks.

Jason buys and checks out so many children’s books for them. For these kids. Street kids. Like him. Not only that but he also reads the stories for them. Regularly. You feel like melting into a puddle.

You turn to Jason, an amazed look on your face. As if this man could be any more wonderful. He blushes and looks away in embarrassment. A small smile makes its way across your lips.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” You say, turning to the kids once more.

“Yeah! He’s great at it.” Chirps the same girl.

“Are you staying then?” Lily insists.

You immediately turn to Jason. You would love to but there is a reason for why Jason hasn’t told you about this. It feels like this is something very important to him and that he holds very dear so you don’t want to intrude on that. But Jason is already looking at you, scared yet hopeful, as if he does want you to stay but is afraid that you may want to leave now.

“Well, I would love to. If I’m not a burden of course.”

“Never.” Jason says without missing a beat.

You don’t think that you have ever smiled more brightly.

You end up having one of the best afternoons that you have ever had in a while. Rival only to the other ones in which Jason visits you in the bookstore. You stay and listen as Jason reads them the books that had been sitting on the bench and that you recognize from the bookstore out loud, using different voices, doing exaggerating gestures, and acting out scenes.

You watch as the kids laugh and look at him mesmerized. If you had been able to look into a mirror, you would have found that you had the very same look of admiration as them, maybe even a tiny little bit lovestruck. You can tell that they love him, look up to him and consider him a role model. You can’t help but think that they made an excellent choice.

The crowd is mostly made of small kids, the older ones, in their teenage years, although a few of them listen, most make as if the activity doesn’t interest them, but you can see how they linger around the group while they play basketball or pass by.

You see how what Jason is doing with these kids is a light for them. A moment of escapism, fun and happiness from their lives and problems in the worst neighborhoods of Gotham. Kids forced to grow up earlier to survive. Holding onto whatever source of innocence that they can.

Eventually, they all rope you into reading too and you end up sharing the spotlight with Jason. There are laughs, questions from the kids about yourself, funny comments and the snickering whispers from the older kids at the back about the two of you, having obviously heard about you before.

Jason prays that you can’t see them when they start teasing him and making kissy faces to which he just rolls his eyes. He also prays that you can’t see how he looks at you as you enjoy yourself and laugh at what the kids say. The utter adoration and longing that lay in his eyes.

It isn’t until almost a couple of hours later, when the sun has already disappeared beyond the horizon and the orange hue of the sky has turned purple, that the reading does come to an end.

The kids say their goodbyes, not before inviting you to reading time again and wondering when you will come back. A lot of them already give you a hug as they go, and you see them leave back towards their homes. Most of them go to the adjacent buildings but there are also a few, mostly the older kids, or at least accompanied by them, that go towards the street.

Lily thanks you for your help and even gives you a kiss on the cheek that makes you want to melt and give her a tight hug before she leaves towards the closest building, a girl a few years older than her guiding her by the hand.

And then, after all the chaos and laughs, with the night starting to settle in, it’s just you and Jason once again.

You sit back down on the bench next to him and you both stay there for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the silence of the chill Gotham air.

When you turn to Jason, his green gaze is already on you.

“Thank you for staying. The kids loved having you here.” He whispers as to not disturb the peace that has settled over you both. “I hope that it wasn’t too much.”

“What? No, it was lovely. Really, I had a great time. I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“No, not at all.”

“Now I know why you always check out so many kids’ books. Good to know that you’re not a psychopath with kids in cages or something.” You joke and Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe I should have explained that earlier. It would have been too strange to explain at the beginning but then we became friends and it dragged on and it felt too weird to explain now. I don’t know.” He just didn’t know what you would have thought of him.

“No, no.” You shake your head. “I didn’t mean it like that. This was clearly something very private to you. It’s perfectly understandable not wanting to share it with anybody.”

“You’re not anybody.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating for a moment.

The intensity of his gaze makes you look down at your hands. You can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at you like that.

It’s scary.

In a good way, but still very scary.

“Well, anyway, thank you for letting me be a part of it.” You end up saying and he nods.

Silence settles over you two once again. Neither of you wanting the day to end.

“You hungry? I know a great spot.” He speaks up.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“I’m starving.”

You love the place as soon as you see it. It’s a small, yet very cozy and lovely diner. Through the outside windows you can see that the color pattern is mostly blue and white with bright pink neon letters announcing that it’s open.

Jason holds the door open for you and the warmness inside the place drastically contrasts with the cold from outside. The delightful smells from the kitchen make your stomach ache with hunger.

“Hi, sweetie! We’ll be right with you!” The old woman at the bar with a brightly tinted red streak in her hair says excitedly.

“Sit wherever you like!” A voice yells next from the kitchen. From the open window that looks into it from the dining area you can see another old woman with a bun.

“Thank you, ladies.” Jason greets.

Your mouth hangs open.

Jason leads you to a booth that stares out into the street. His usual spot, you suppose. As you sit in the comfortable booth and you two take off your coats, you close your mouth and look at Jason with a raised eyebrow. He looks back at you feigning innocence, though you know well that he knows why you’re so surprised.

“What?” He says with a teasing smirk that makes you want to kiss it away.

“You little liar.”

“Hey.” He responds amused. “What did I do now?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with practically adoptive grandparents that just so happen to run a business.” You say with your arms crossed.

And when Jason laughs, you might as well be addicted to the sound with how much you love it everytime you hear it.

“I knew you were going to say that.” He says and you scoff playfully. “In my defense, I will say that I wasn’t fully ‘officially’ adopted until after we had that conversation. I hadn’t come here enough times for that yet.”

“Mmhm, sure.” You say suspicious as you take the menu from the side of the table and take a quick look over it. “And you wanted to take Rose and Jimmy away from me.” You add, muttering under your breath.

“Excuse me?” Mock outrageousness in his tone.

“What you hear.” You’re trying too hard to hide your smile.

“You know that was never my intention.” He answers and you just hum, pretending to read the menu. “Okay, as an act of peace, you can have Millie and Ruby too.”

“Mhm.” You pretend to think it over.

“I’m sure they’ll love you in no time anyway.” The lightness with which he says that, as if anyone who met you couldn’t help but love you, makes you drop the menu onto the table and look back at him.

“Deal then.” You finally say and you both let out a small laugh.

After that, the woman with the red streak approaches your table and greets you both.

“Good evening kids, how are you today?”

“Good, Ruby, and you?” Jason answers.

“You know, same old, same old.” She says, waving her hand. Then she turns fully to you. “And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks with a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow, almost as if she already knows the answer and knows a secret that you’re not privy to.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The Y/N?” Ruby says while throwing Jason a look. He just looks away in embarrassment and the neon sign of the window really makes you wonder if the red tint on his cheeks are a reflection of it or not. “Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you dear! We've heard so much about you! We’ve been telling Jason to bring you non-stop. Oh gosh, I gotta tell Millie. Millie! Honey, come here!” She screams towards the kitchen.

Your lips curve into an amused smile, but you also feel heat rush to your face, not really knowing what to do with all the attention and the fact that Jason has been talking about you, what seems to be quite a lot, to other people. Not only his brother, but also the kids and these women.

Millie appears and when she learns who you are, she greets you just as enthusiastically as Ruby has.

“Let me tell you sweetheart, this boy here talks about you-” Millie starts but then she clears her throat as Jason throws her a warning glance. “I mean, about your bookshop all the time.”

“Well, you can drop by anytime.” You offer.

“We will.” Millie assures you. It seems as though both Millie and Ruby want to stay and ask you millions of questions but they see how Jason is begging them with his eyes to leave you two alone, and after taking your orders, they leave with a smile.

“They seem really great.” You say. Their loud nature sign of a joyous life. And even though they seem more energetic, vivacious and chaotic than the calm and quiet way in which Rose and Jimmy carry themselves, you know that they would get along very well. Especially with how all of them seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the interactions that you and Jason have.

“Yeah, they are.” Jason confirms. “But sorry about that, they can come off as a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to be greeted so welcomely.”

As the night goes on, you find that it is just as easy to talk to Jason outside the bookshop as it is over the counter. It doesn’t surprise you but the underlying fear that your connection only works surrounded by bookshelves finally leaves you.

As you both eat the delicious food that Millie prepared, Jason tells you more about the kids per your request. How he tries to read to them at least once a week, how he brings them food whenever he can and how he has even taught a few of them to read. You also immediately offer up the bookstore to hold the readings but he shakes his head and smiles sadly.

“Thank you, really. That’s very kind of you. But it’s not very viable since the neighborhoods are not very close. Most of the kids have people relying on them and can only make it to the readings from time to time. The playground is also the more common ground, the older kids can’t go very far due to the responsibilities and it’s not safe for the smaller ones to go on their own.”

You nod, but your heart clenches at how these kids can’t enjoy a normal childhood.

“I understand.” You stop and think for a second if you should say what you want to say next, worried about overstepping.

You decide to go for it anyway.

“I’d like to come back for the readings, if that’s okay?” Your voice comes out lower and more unsure than what you had first intended, your hands playing nervously on your lap.

Jason looks at you, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

“Of course you can. I’m sure they’d love to have you back.” I’d love to have you back. But Jason doesn’t want to scare you or make the whole situation come off too strong. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured, if their insistence-”

“No, no! Really, I had a great time and I would love to be able to see the kids again. Help in any way I can.”

“Okay, then.” He says with a smile pulling at his lips.

The evening stretches on and you two stay at the dinner until closing time. There is a moment that will haunt you for days, as you told him a story, he leaned his arms on the table, giving you his undivided attention, and the way in which his bicep flexed under his sleeve… Nothing has ever been so distracting. Your eyes had been instantly drawn over to it. You really, really hoped that he didn’t notice. You would die of embarrassment otherwise.

You even finally, finally, give each others’ numbers to match schedules for the readings (and to just chat in general of course), since you won’t be able to make it to all of them due to the bookstore hours and so that Jason can let you know if he can’t attend one. You can’t believe you didn’t even have it before with how often you two already talked at the bookshop.

It feels like another shift in your relationship. A stepping stone.

Another brick on the long yet sturdy building road.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

>Part II

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd one shot #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #Red hood x reader #Red hood fic #Red hood one shot #Red hood imagine #Red hood #Jason todd imagines #Red hood imagines #Children's Books and Leather Jackets #ThreeStarsInLine #Jason todd fluff #Jason todd angst #Red hood fluff #Red hood angst #DC Comics

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cosmicdream222 · 5 months ago

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Welcome ✨

Call me Cosmic. she/her. Millennial.

I blog about manifesting, loa, reality shifting, the void, etc. If that isn’t your cup of tea, peace out 👽 Asks & DMs are open as long as you are kind & respectful but please read through the FAQ before asking anything!

★ About me ★

I started making aff tapes & subliminals for myself & sharing them here on tumblr in the fall of 2023, and began posting on yt in April 2024.

YouTube channel 📌Previous pinned

Void, shifting & loa stuff compiled from others

The void explained in an old reiki book

An interview with a shifter who has been time-leaping since 2001

The void explained by a lucid dreaming instructor

Near-death experience & manifesting

Misc inspiration from loa twitter

More motivation from loa twitter

Just desire, intend & know it's possible

The universe is a giant hologram

You already have it all

Master Shifter Love Remix Series

How shifting works (the whole package)

Shifting is a law - so treat it like one

Shifting is the least special thing in the world

Shifting/manifesting is not your job

You deserve everything you want

Vanilla explains: Past Lives, Death & Afterlives

Resources, Challenges & Methods

DMT breathwork to enter the void

Wake up with your dream life: affirm & relax challenge

EFT tapping script

Manifesting is not a process challenge

What is Psych-k?

The Phase Basics

SSILD for lucid dreaming

Tips for lucid dreaming

Dream life script Google doc template

My OG void concept aff tape

My Void state subs on Google drive

Full desired appearance & beauty sub

Saturating session with my cats

FAQ: Read these before sending a question!

"Can I manifest...?"

YES. It doesn't matter what it is: the answer is always yes. You can manifest anything you want. Anything!

I will no longer be answering any questions about deadlines/time

About me & my personal experiences & successes

The time I entered the void before I knew what the void was

How do you personally manifest?

Have you entered the void?

Backstory about me and this blog

A quick example on affirming to combat negative thoughts

Success: reconnected with sp after 8+ yrs NC

My mom got super fast subliminal results?!

Manifesting/shifting/void 101

What is the state of the wish fulfilled?

A reminder not to create stories around unwanted circumstances

What is the void?

How do we manifest?

States are not a method

Persisting does not mean repetition

How do I persist properly?

Does robotic affirming work?

What is a saturating session?

Is birds before land a thing?

How do I improve my visualization skills?

How can I manifest in a scientifically proven way?

Doubts/fears/troubleshooting

The void is hard for me, any tips?

How can shifting be simple when it’s so hard for me?

Is shifting real?

What happens to my current self after shifting?

When we manifest are we shifting to a new reality?

When I manifest something, will other people see it too?

How long does it take to see results?

How can I stop obsessing about results?

I’m scared I’m abandoning/betraying people in this reality when I shift/enter the void

Why do some people fail?

What am I doing wrong?

I have doubts, what if this doesn’t work?

How do I convince the logical part of myself?

How can I ignore my toxic/negative circumstances?

What should I do if I’m overthinking?

Funnies :)

The affirming carrot

Me not reacting to 3D circumstances like

#masterlist #faq #manifesting #reality shifting #void state #loa #affirm and persist

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wayneskluv · 8 months ago

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and they were roommates — h. quinn

summary: silly lesbian roommates

word count: 690

warnings: implications of masterbation at the end

pairing: roommate!harley quinn x f!reader

authors note: non canon harley cause she’s not so insane so just pretend it’s harleen quinzel | i’ll do a part 2 if anyone wants one 😭

You were sat at your desk, your fingertips gracing the keys as you mindlessly type yet another essay that will not, in any way, be useful in the real world.

“Hi.” You hear a high pitched voice from behind you, the New York accent belonging to your roommate, that you sort-of-definitely-have-a-thing-for, Harley Quinn. “Whatcha working on?” As she speaks, she leans in closer, having absolutely no concept of personal space.

You let out an exasperated sigh, that you cut off with a chuckle. “Nothing special.” You say, your eyes never leaving the screen. A small smile tugs at the side of your lips, feeling the lingering presences of Harley from behind you.

“Sorry, Harls. Gotta work on this.” If you’d turned around, you’d have seen the over-dramatic pout she was putting on.

It was almost comical how she could make any small gesture and it would instantly pull your attention her way. You did, in fact, turn to look at her finally and were caught off guard by the playful pout that was now on her lips. It brought a sudden rush of air, almost as if you’d forgotten to breathe.

“No reason to look at me like that. I still have like… another hour, at least, to work on this. Can’t let it get too close to the deadline.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Came the quick answer from Harley. It was almost like she could sense where your eyes would be looking next, because now she was standing in the way of your computer screen.

“You could be doing something other than working.” She whined, leaning back over and placing her hands, on the edge of your desk, on either side of your keyboard.

“Oh, yeah?” The flirty words roll off your tongue before you can stop them, almost muscle memory at the point. Your head peers round her waist, trying to focus on your work and not the close proximity.

She laughed at your inability to focus on the task at hand. The proximity between the two of you, she knew, had to be distracting for you too. “So,” her hands moved, and she stood a little straighter, allowing you a proper view back at your computer screen.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” The flirtatious banter was easy with Harley, but there was an understanding beneath this playful behaviour which felt nice.

“Nothing.” You replied, though the tone of your voice, the body language you were exuding said the exact opposite. Harley was enjoying the back and forth between the two of you; the feeling of tension as her proximity continued to remain very close to yours.

She had been waiting for the moment where you’d have no excuse, no excuse to not ask her to hang out more. And this was the perfect opening, she was offering to spend time with you, outside of your shared apartment.

“Wanna do something?” She says, “You know, together. When you’ve done.” Her voice is almost too eager, if she didn’t have such a bubbly personality, you’d have been more curious.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You reply, this was what you’d been waiting for. That invitation, that openness. The playful back and forth banter between you was one thing. And your roommate situation was a whole entirely different situation, which felt like it was a bit of a hindrance to this budding, whatever was going on.

“Maybe something to eat,” she started, “Something outside of these walls.” She was so hyper-focused on the space between you, your proximity, you felt almost as if she was breathing for the both of you.

“Yeah, sounds great.” In your concentration, you dart out your tongue to wet your bottom, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

An hour later, you finally click the save button and close your laptop down. You stand up, stretching as you move with a small groan, and you head toward Harleys room. As your bare heels hit the floor, you hear the prettiest little whines coming from her room. You’re about to knock when you hear a low whimper of your name.

#harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x female!reader #wayneskluv #dc comics

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folkookie97 · 9 months ago

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❝why'd you only call me when you're high?❞ — MYG

— SUMMARY: ❝ It's Yoongi's birthday and he starts feeling guilty for breaking up with you when you most needed him. ❞

— PAIRING: rockstar!yoongi x actress!reader

— TYPE: light angst, mild dark | rockstar!au, celebrities!au

— WORD COUNT: 907

— WARNINGS/TAGS: Part of "I Bet on Losing Dogs" One-Shots Collection, toxic love, exes to lovers, second chance romance, secret relationship, non-graphic smut (not with the reader), semi-public sex, Trust Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcoholism, ambiguous/open ending, Unplanned Pregnancy, arguing, Yoongi is bad at feeling here (maybe a lil bit toxic too lol), This part is based on Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? (Arctic Monkeys), POV Second Person

— NOTES¹: This one-shot is part of the "I Bet On Losing Dogs" Collection, random scenarios of my AU where Yoongi is a toxic rockstar with trust issues and an alcohol addiction who secretly dated an actress at the beginning of her career.

— NOTES²: Happy bday Yoongi my sweetheart, I love you so much <3 (he was my ultimate bias from 2015 to 2019 guys, but I'll never get over him 😭😭)

— RELEASE DATE: March 08, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"So you must be the birthday guy of the party. Happy birthday, bro!"

Min Yoongi heard that last sentence a trillion times during the night, the insincerity of the congratulations already going unnoticed by his confused brain as he filled his body with an absurd amount of alcohol.

He hadn't been worried about nothing more since the last few hours. His face was no longer anything more than a mask whose faked fellow feeling had the sole intention of at least not making the situation even more uncomfortable for the guests and their random companions.

When the idea of celebrating his birthday with a party full of other celebrities came into his own mind, Yoongi didn't figured the bad scenarios that could happen at the private club. He just wanted to get rid of the feeling of loneliness that had been damaging him over the last few months. The impostor syndrome haunting him during sleepless nights with the creative block, whenever he tried writing some new songs for his new album.

The deadline until the new tour's start was short, and his patience was even shorter.

Yoongi just wanted to de-stress. Celebrate his special night with some friends from the same celebrities' world, drink a lot, eat some snacks and maybe have sex with random models. Everything he used doing before he met you.

All it took was drinking too much until he went to a far corner to make out with a Victoria's Secret's Angel who wasn't that famous, but at least made up for her lack of fame with her beauty and tongue technology.

However, maybe the weight of having a different mouth touching him after being used to feeling only someone specific for so long had been too much for his emotions heightened due alcohol.

Or maybe he felt guilty. Guilty for letting another woman touch him after sharing so many good moments with you.

Guilty for saying such cruel words to you during your latest arguments. Guilty for don't understanding your desire to see him publicly deny his dating rumors with other women. Guilty for accusing you of being paranoiac, too jealous and also accusing you of blame him for always putting his career before your relationship.

Guilty for never prioritizing you.

But mostly, guilty for leaving you when you needed him most. Guilty for accusing you of pregnancy trick for his fame and money. Guilty for always being a toxic boyfriend and already being a bad future dad.

Yoongi would always love you. He knew that. Everyone in his inner circle knew that. Even that hot model could realized that when he started crying right after cumming in her mouth.

But he didn't deserve your love. He didn't deserve your baby.

And being there, at his own pity party with his lips — and eyes — still swollen and more glasses in his hands as he continued greeting his guests only proved this cruel truth.

It was his fucking birthday. All he really wanted was being with you. Cuddling you, playing some of both of you favorite songs on his guitar, caressing your pregnant belly, talking to the baby...

Damn it! He just wanted you again. He just wanted being with you forever, being your husband. He wanted having a family with you. He needed to get you back. He needed his stupid party end up being useful, at least knocking some sense into his fucking mind.

With his vision blurred from tasting different colorful drinks, Yoongi searched for your number in his blocked contacts, letting out a long sigh with the increased guilt that hit in his chest when he realized that you didn't block him back.

So he pressed the call icon and waited.

Three rejected calls. Four missed calls. He could almost daydream, remembering you carrying your own shoes and calling him every possible curses while leaving your old apartment after one of your arguments.

Even though the clock on his cell phone showed that it was past three in the morning, he knew you were awake. Or at least you woken up with his fucking annoying stubbornness.

I'm so sorry love

It wasn't something very special, but it was as much as his high drunk state allowed him typing in your DMs without looking more stupid than his usual.

It wasn't a decent apology for everything he'd put you through lately. All the arguments, the swearing, the shade comments on the internet, his neglect about the baby...

Yoongi knew you deserved better words. You deserved all the love in the world. All the love he felt for you but never showed you in a healthy way.

But deep down, Yoongi knew you would answer him. He wasn't proud of being sure about that, but he knew it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Hi. Why'd you only call me when you're high?

And you unfortunately also knew him enough to know that alcohol was the cause behind his sudden motivation to contact you, after months of just ghosting your attempts to still save your relationship. Save your future family.

I'm so sorry

He practically repeated the same message before trying to click the call icon again.

This time, you answered, barely giving him time to process the situation before your trembling voice echoed through his phone. "Prove it to me without being fucking drunk as usual. Prove it to me without being at your stupid birthday party."

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theemporium · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyyy, love all your works i’ve read so far, and i am still scrolling through your feed.

I wanted to request a Daniel x sunshine, where they have pregnancy scare, and daniel wasn’t in a right mood so he kind of had a bad reaction but then they end up alright because he apologises and tells sunshine how it was all because he had a bad day.

Thank youuuuu, take care💚

whoops this is a bit of a long one but thank you!! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

To be frank, Daniel had a shit day.

He had been dragged into the factory at an ungodly hour—far earlier than he was meant to be—and it started off his day in a grouchy mood. The meeting seemed pointless in his opinion, but he was still forced to sit through it regardless and fight the urge to doze off.

Then, it had been a day jam-packed full of media duties and sponsorship promotions that he was in no mood for. Everybody had their off days, even Daniel Ricciardo and the people on set could tell. Unfortunately, there was a deadline to be met and they couldn’t keep putting the filming off.

And to top everything off, you had been blowing his phone up all morning, forcing him to turn it off for the rest of the day when the team started to get a bit irritated at the constant interruption.

By the time he headed back to your shared apartment, he was downright exhausted, hungry and in desperate need to just sit on the couch for five minutes before he did anything. He expected you would either be in your office working, or in the kitchen whipping something up for the two of you.

He was surprised to find neither of those options.

Instead, you were pacing around the living room, lost in your own world as you muttered away to yourself. Your head snapped up when he shut the door behind him, your eyes wide like you were a deer caught in headlights. He waited for you to saunter over, press a kiss on his lips as you greeted him like you usually did.

But you just stood there.

“Can we talk?” you eventually blurted out, and a part of him sensed the heaviness in your voice. He knew it wasn’t going to be some silly story, and he didn’t think he had it in him to have the conversation right that second.

“Baby, I just walked through the door, at least let me shower,” he sighed as he shuffled further into the apartment, dropping his backpack near the door before he shrugged his shoes off and placed them beside the others.

“Danny, please—” you started but the exhaustion within him finally snapped, hitting the last dregs of his patience.

“Please, I’ve had a long fucking day at work, I don’t need to hear whatever you’ve been nagging me all day about right this second,” he muttered, his words a little harsher than even he intended. “Just please, give me like thirty minutes alone.”

You blinked before clearing your throat, your eyes instantly looking anywhere but him. He felt a twinge of guilt rush through him.

“Baby—”

But you just shook your head, making your way past him and towards the door as you shoved your feet into the first pair of shoes you could find. “It’s fine, I needed to get something from the shops anyways.”

Daniel sighed. “Sunshine—”

But you were already out the door.

Daniel ran his hands over his face, letting out a small groan before he started making his way deeper into the house. He would make it up to you once you returned, he would make sure of that. But right now, he needed a hot shower and a change of clothes, and maybe some food to help him feel a little more human.

However, when his hand reached out to flip the bathroom switch, the last thing he expected to see when the lights turned on was the plastic stick lying on the counter.

His blood ran cold.

He knew exactly what it was and he didn’t need to step any closer to know. It was a pregnancy test. You had done a pregnancy test. And then, just when he thought he could breathe again, everything started clicking in place.

The phone calls throughout the day. The messages that went unanswered on his side. The sketchy behaviour when he walked through the door and the insistence to have a chat.

You wanted to tell him you were pregnant—with his child—and he had snapped at you.

Daniel swore he could have thrown up there and then as he quickly exited the bathroom, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts as he made his way to the living room. He sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the door as the seconds ticked by like hours as he waited, as he waited for you to come back home, as he waited to say a thousand and more apologies the second you stepped a foot into the threshold of your shared apartment.

When you turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, the last thing you expected was to be ambushed by your boyfriend into a tight hug that almost made you drop the tub of ice cream you bought.

“Danny—”

“I’m sorry,” his words came out slightly muffled. He then lifted his head, his expression wary and his eyes glossy with tears as he continued. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never snapped at you and I should have answered your calls—”

You gave him a sad smile. “Babe, it’s fine—”

“No, no, it’s not,” Daniel said with a shake of his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m gonna be there for you, you hear me? I might have been a jerk earlier but that’s gone now. I’m gonna be here for you, to do whatever you need. I’m gonna be here for you and our baby and—”

“Daniel,” you repeated, gripping his wrists to catch his attention. “I’m not pregnant.”

He shook his head. “Sunshine, you don’t have to lie, I saw the test—”

“It’s negative.”

He blinked, feeling as though the air had been wiped out of him. “What?”

“It came back negative,” you told him, letting out a shaky breath. “I’d been feeling shit the last few days and realised that I was late. I started freaking out and panicking, and I tried calling you on the off chance that you’d be able to come back home.”

Daniel’s eyes softened. “Sunshine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered with a sheepish smile. “I was shaking so much, I couldn’t even drive to the shops. I walked, bought the tests and a litre of water and just…chugged it on the way back.”

His thumbs gently caressed the apple of your cheek.

“Those three minutes were the scariest three minutes of my life,” you confessed to your boyfriend, swallowing back the emotions you felt in the back of your throat. “I mean, I don’t even know if I’m ready to be a mother and I just—”

Daniel waited.

“I just wanted you there,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close and tight into his chest. It was the comfort you had been seeking all day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you, and I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier.”

“It’s fine,” you muttered. “You were stressed.”

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Daniel retorted and pulled back so he could look at you again. “One day, I hope you will be the mother of my children, and I hope I will be by your side when we find out.”

Your lips twitched. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grinned softly. “I’m in it for the long run, Sunshine.”

“Me too, Ricciardo,” you whispered before giving him a teasing smile. “Even if you’re a jerk sometimes.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll make it up to you, Sunshine, promise.”

But you just smiled. “I know you will.”

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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atinystraynstay · 10 months ago

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7PM - Boo Seungkwan

Synopsis: 7pm was always your favorite time of day. There was no longer a concern over deadlines and meetings. You get to slip out of your high heels and replace them with your favorite pair of fuzzy socks. The best part is when you get to debrief the day with your boyfriend, Seungkwan.

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff, domesticated life with Seungkwan so you know you're going to be pampered like a queen

Word Count: 1.7k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

After unlocking the front door, you pushed it open. The smell of your home always makes you feel relaxed. You couldn't quite describe the scent. It just smelled so good that your body was filled with nothing but warmth and contentment. All your worries from the workday were left outside the moment you stepped in.

You hooked your keys on the key holder. Your set was the only pair hanging which made you frown slightly. You were hoping Seungkwan had made it home from work a tad bit early, so you could see him sooner. However, seeing as it was already 6:50pm, you knew that he would arrive shortly.

An audible sigh left your lips as you slipped out of your high heels. Your feet screamed out in appreciation at feeling the floor beneath you. Even hardwood flooring was preferable to wearing high heels all day.

Finally being at home, you began to maneuver through your shared home. You smiled at the wall lined up with photos of not just you and Seungkwan over the years, but photos with family and friends. It's been a while since your home was filled with people. Maybe you two could throw a party soon? You dropped your purse on the couch before beginning to head towards the kitchen.

Seungkwan never placed expectations on you when it comes to household duties. His sisters and mother definitely raised him well in that regard. He much preferred splitting responsibilities equally, but always opting for the heavier duty stuff. And even if he couldn't do it on his own, he basically had a whole artillery of friends ready to call up.

Yet, you took joy in cooking for him. You always saw it as an act of love by cooking him a warm-cooked meal. Especially now that winter is starting to settle in, there was nothing better in your opinion than a dinner prepared by your significant other. Plus, it allowed you to shower him with affection sooner if you at least got started before you got home.

What was in the fridge?

With end-of-the-year projects, meetings, and requests - you and Seungkwan felt like you were being pulled at different ends. When you had a late night, it seemed like he was able to get off early, or vice versa. Most of the reaction over the past couple of days has resulted in groggy 'good mornings' and sleepy 'goodnight' kisses.

When the weekend comes, you both were unfortunately stuck putting in overtime at your respective jobs. It was rare over the past couple of days for you two to actually have an sat-down meal. That also meant that it has been a while since the two of you made a proper grocery store run rather than picking up instant ramen to make at home.

Let's see what I can come up with. Your hands reached behind you to put your hair in a low, messy bun. Your fingers gently grasped onto the handle of the fridge, opening it.

Your eyes scanned every shelf, every corner of the fridge. The two of you didn't have much besides every condiment you could think of, a few tangerines, and a carton of milk you questioned if it was still good to drink. It really has been a while.

"What am I going to do?" You murmured to yourself. There was nothing even salvageable to make a meal. You didn't even want it to be the best meal you've ever made. What you wanted was at least to do something nice for your Seungkwan.

"Honey? I'm home."

Speaking of which. A smile curled onto your lips at the sound of Seungkwan returning home. God, you've wanted to be in his arms all day since the moment you had to get up for work.

"In the kitchen!" You called back. Admitting defeat, you closed the refrigerator door.

From the other side of the house, you could hear shuffling. You knew Seungkwan was taking off his jacket and setting his keys, hearing the familiar jingle. Who knew something so simple as keys making noise could be the best sound in the world.

The movement from the front of the apartment made its way closer to you. Knowing that Seungkwan was home just filled your heart with happiness, with comfort. He has been a source of refuge, of unconditional love for you.

Once you heard the footsteps turn around, you looked over to see Seungkwan by the threshold of the kitchen. "There's my girl," he murmured. He immediately opened his arms for you. You could never turn a hug down from him. This time, you were the one shuffling along to reach him as quickly as possible.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his torso. You squeezed his body, almost reassuring yourself that your boyfriend had fully arrived home. He smiled at the sentiment but also was concerned. You normally welcome him home with a kiss before nestling yourself against you. Only on the rough days did you find yourself like this, just seeing the comfort of his hugs.

Seungkwan didn't hesitate. His arms found themselves around you. He felt release a soft sigh into his neck. Oh, today was a bad day.

His arms ran up and down your back affectionately, just holding you close. "Do you want to talk about it, honey?" You shook your head. He knew better than press you too hard. When you were ready, you would fill him in. For now, if this is all you needed, then that's what you got.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before dropping his lips to hover over your ear. "I brought takeout home," he whispered.

You never removed yourself from him so fast. You spun around, but stood right in front of you. Seungkwan chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. Seeing the happiness wash of your face is all Seungkwan needed. "God, you're really the love of my life." You turned back to face Seungkwan. Your hands cupped his cheeks, gazing up into your eyes. "I just looked in the fridge to see we didn't have much to eat, so I wasn't sure what we were going to do for dinner." "Well have no fear, sweet girl. Your dinner has arrived," he winked.

You giggled at his antics. You eased up onto your tiptoes, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. His hands moved from your lower back to his side. He hummed lightly against your lips as he allowed his hands to rest on your hips.

"Go get settled, honey. The food is already in the living room. I figured we could watch a movie tonight? I can also open that bottle of red wine we bought ages ago."

He spoke your love language.

You nodded your head eagerly, giving him one last hug. Before you could detach yourself from him fully, you allowed your lips to press kisses into his skin. He started blushing profusely, almost trying to hide his face in your shoulder. Your giggles against his skin vibrated throughout his whole body. He was so in love with you.

"Baby please," he whined. "Alright, alright. I'll go!"

You were fully detached to migrate towards the food awaiting the two of you. He watched as you walked away, the smile unable to be wiped from his face. How did he get so lucky to be in this life with you?

He worked quickly to fetch the wine bottle chilling in the fridge. Seungkwan's perceptions of love were framed around the love he witnessed from his parents. He never believed he would get lucky enough to be blessed with such a love, but then you came along.

With the trusted wine opener, he was able to uncork the wine bottle rather quickly. The soft pop sounded in the air. He was surprised you didn't come running at the sound, but it made him happy knowing you were relaxing.

From the moment he walked into the apartment, he could sense you weren't in the best mood. Maybe it was the indicator of your heels just thrown on the floor, or the way you didn't really hang up your jacket. He hated the fact he wasn't hear to mend your aching body sooner.

Carefully, he poured the wine into the wine glasses that he pulled from the cabinet. Once he saw it was filled to your preference level, he put the metal bottle topper in the bottle to keep it fresh. He also put the bottle back in the fridge, knowing you preferred it chilled. Tonight was all about bringing you comfort.

Grabbing the stems of the glasses, he began making his way back to you. His footsteps were light, so as to not startle you. You did have a tendency to fall asleep anywhere, and assuming you had been on your feet all day, he left nothing up to chance.

However, he saw you on the couch with your legs criss-crossed. You had left a spot open for him. What made his heart swell in the way you were already looking in his direction expectingly.

"Here you go, honey." He passed over the wine glass to you, which you happily accepted. "Why don't you go ahead and get started eating?" "I was waiting for you," you responded. You leaned over to kiss his cheek lingeringly once he settled in next to you. You pulled back to take a sip out of your wine before setting it down on the coaster on the coffee table. Not wasting anymore time, you bega opened up the white takeout bag to reveal the containers.

All the while, Seungkwan sat back and watched you. It made him feel prideful knowing he knew the way to help you at your lowest moments. He always admitted your independence and your willingness to put others before yourself, but he ultimately wanted to the the one to replenish your kind heart.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder once you discovered your takeout box. You began to eat as he leaned over, kissing the top of your head.

7pm was easily his favorite time of day. It was when he came back to you, that he could make sure you were happy even after the worst of days. It was when he was able to shower you with the love he couldn't do throughout the day.

7pm was when the rest of the world didn't matter because he was by your side.

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carry-on-au-fest · 2 months ago

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Fest Rules

What is this fest about?

The Carry On AU Fest is a prompt based fest that celebrates any kind of Alternate Universe or canon divergent creation in the CO fandom. We accept any pairings or gen fics and art.

Who can participate?

You must be at least 18 years old at the time of signing up.

We expect you to treat everyone taking part, including the mods, with respect.

All work must be your own, and we do not allow any kind of fic or art produced with AI.

You may register as both a writer and an artist, and you can claim multiple prompts as long as you have completed the first one you claimed first.

How does prompting work?

On 5th October we are going to open prompting via Airtable. You can submit as many prompts as you like, and you don't have to claim anything unless you want to. You don’t have to create for the fest to submit a prompt. You can prompt anonymously or write your AO3/Tumblr username (in which case people can gift you their works if they wish to).

How does claiming work?

On 19th October we are going to open claiming via a Google form. You can claim your own prompt or claim someone else's. Alternatively, you can self-prompt by picking the first prompt on the list.

Prompts are assigned on a first come first serve basis. The prompts will be available to be claimed once for fic and once for art. Collaborations are welcome.

If you decide to gift your work to the person who prompted it, please make sure that you stick to the preferences they have expressed and that you don't include their squicks.

What are the requirements for writers?

Writers will need to write an original fic with a minimum length of 1k.

The fic needs to be an unpublished fic and it needs to be posted on our fest collection on AO3. Your story doesn't need to be complete by the submission date, but we ask that you post at least 1k by the submission deadline and wait until the end of the fest to post the rest.

You can share small snippets and talk about your story on social media platforms.

Should you need an extension, please let us know as soon as you can.

We will reveal one work per day from 8th February.

What are the requirements for artists?

You can create a variety of original fan work, such as:

- illustrations, both digital and traditional (they don’t need to be in colour)

- moodboards (at least 6 elements)

- plastic arts (including embroidery and origami)

- playlists (a minimum of 10 songs)

- fic binding

- podfic (please make sure that you have the permission of the author of the fic you're recording a podfic of before starting)

You can post your work either on AO3 or on Tumblr (please get in touch and let us know if you prefer the second option).

What kind of rating is allowed?

Any rating is allowed for both art and fic, but please tag your work appropriately.

If your work is rated Mature or Explicit, the characters involved must be at least 18 years old.

We recommend that you use a beta reader.

What is the schedule for posting?

You can find the most up to date schedule here.

Please get in touch with the mods if you need an extension.

I still have a lot of questions about this, how can I contact you?

Send us an ask, a DM or contact us at and we will gladly answer.

The mods for this fest are @orange-peony, @pato-roldnart and @bubble-gumhead.

#fest rules #mod post #co au fest

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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time management II a.russo x reader

hello! this is my first ever post so pls be nice. It makes me sO nervous to dip my toe into writing on woso tumblr after only being a reader from afar but here we are 🫶🏻

time management II a.russo x reader

"baby? i'm back!" your girlfriend called out from the front door, the soft thud of her kit bag hitting the floor followed by a small grunt as she wrestled to take off her trainers. You couldn't help but chuckle as you heard yet another small thud followed by a yelp and some quiet cursing, it had all but become part of her routine now to fall over during the seemingly simple task.

"hi clumsy." you greeted her with a knowing smile, the blonde huffing to blow a loose strand of hair out of her face, cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment and face flushed and rosy from training as she entered your eye line. "stupid floor." the girl grumbled in annoyance, shrugging off her training jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair as she stepped into the living room.

The italian's large hands gently rested on either side of your face, tilting your head back ever so slightly as she bent down down to press a soft but sweet kiss to your forehead as she passed the back of the lounge you were currently sprawled on, work laptop perched precariously on your knees.

"i wonder if we get a discount now when we go to the emergency room since you're such a frequented visitor." you teased with a grin, the older girl shooting you an unimpressed glare before she disappeared into the kitchen where you heard the tap running as she no doubt chugged a glass of water, yet another step in the post training routine.

"how was it?" you called out, eyes drifting back to the screen in front of you, the half completed report card staring back at you almost tauntingly. Your chest tightened somewhat when you glanced at the last name, a quiet sigh falling from your lips confirming you still had at least nineteen left to write before they were due for submission on monday. As the seconds ticked by friday was ever closer to being over, only tightening your deadline.

Unlike your superstar striker girlfriend you were not gifted with sporting ability, however what you may have lacked in the athletic department you made up for in the academic field. You'd always had a subtle but present passion for sharing knowledge with others, which with a gentle push from your own teachers, inevitably lead you down the path of teaching. After a few grueling years of uni and various placements your hard work paid off and you had finally secured your first permanent primary teaching position.

With the term holidays looming the days seemed to tick by ever so slowly for both you and your year 5 class, which they all made sure to remind you on a daily basis, especially when they were having to participate in anything apart from lunch or recess. The constant battle to keep them focused on anything but what they planned to do when not in school had you wanting to tear your hair out.

You adored your class, and of course you loved teaching. But the final two weeks of term was forever the most stressful for you, and as much as you tried to bottle it up, you were almost certain you were partially responsible for your students wild behavior, it was as if they picked up on your internal erratic energy.

As much as you'd secretly love to give into their endless demands, throw on some mind numbing cotton fluff childrens films for them to consume and keep quiet for the next week, you knew they would in the long term benefit from the lessons. Plus whose to say with a little money taken out of your own pocket you couldn't make it a little more fun for them in this upcoming final week like you'd planned.

Though you had one end goal, which was two weeks off to spend as much time with your friends, family and of course your girlfriend as you could squeeze in amongst some much needed self care time for yourself. Though it meant added stress in the meantime with forward planning your first couple weeks lessons back of next term before this term would even finish as to allow you to actually spend the time away from work, away from work.

"good! got a new PB on the bench press, even beat mary." alessia beamed in response to your prior question as she joined you, her competitive nature not much of a secret to those who knew her well enough. Growing up the youngest of three and the only girl it wasn't hard to see why she was wired with such a drive to win, and looking at her career so far it was even easier to see the obvious benefits it had for her.

"bet she loved that." you chuckled, eyes still focused on your screen as your fingers flew across the keyboard, finishing your sentence before placing it onto the coffee table your feet had been happily perched on, making sure your girlfriend knew she had your full attention as she rambled on for awhile about training and the upcoming match tomorrow.

"ah! you're all sweaty, go shower first." the taller girl grunted a little in shock as your legs shot out to press into her chest, stopping her from collapsing on top of you as you knew she'd intended to. "what! come on just one hug." the blondes perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed together as her bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Though after almost three years together now you were well aware of her games and overtime it had become much easier not to give into them, at least most of the time.

"no less, you know I hate it just go shower." you shook your head with a small smile, pointing upstairs sternly as your own eyebrows quirked upwards at her obvious defiance. "you don't always hate when I'm sweaty." your girlfriend grinned cheekily at the suggestive comment as she grabbed your feet, your cheeks flushing with warmth which didn't go unnoticed by the italian, adoring the effect her words could have on you when she wanted them to.

"go shower! you smell." you kicked at her lightly with a smirk as she swatted your legs away with ease, rolling her eyes playfully at the jab and turning as if to head upstairs as you reached over for your laptop assuming the conversation was over.

A sincere mistake on your part as your girlfriend suddenly turned on her heel, launching herself back towards you and over the arm of the lounge, careful of how she landed as you felt her larger form envelop yours, arms encasing your torso and face plunged into your neck.

"alessia!" you squealed in surprise, desperately trying to shove her off of you to no avail as the much stronger girl held on with ease, going so far as to purposely rubbing her sweat dampened hair in your face. "get off! please!" you begged with a scream, laughter echoing around the room as the striker dug her fingers teasingly into your sides, legs slotted in-between your own, careful not to completely crush you beneath her.

"say you missed me and maybe I'll get off." alessia grinned, her lips inevitably finding your own, your stomach doing a back flip as they did, your arms coming to wrap around her neck, hand pressing on the back of her head only spurring her on to deepen the kiss further.

"no! I hate you, get off." you pushed her away with a peal of laughter as her tongue slipped inside your mouth, stopping things before the two of you got anymore carried away.

"now that's not very nice, no one likes a liar bella." the blonde beamed, bright blue orbs locked with yours, you made sure to tear your gaze away before you got lost in them, melting at the italian endearment as it fell from her lips.

"get off me or I'll call your mum and tell her about our little trip last week." you threatened, withdrawing your hands from around her neck to cross them over your chest, your girlfriends eyes narrowing at your words as she pushed herself up, resting on her forearms which sat either side of your head.

The threat was not taken lightly, her mum having all but promised the next time her daughter had any sort of stumble at home she'd move in and permanently encase her in bubble wrap, the girls clumsy nature making her a danger not only to herself but also to those around her.

Her most recent victim had of course been you, the slightly tipsy girl had been attempting to romantically carry you upstairs to bed after a big win, the two of you having celebrated with a bottle of wine and catching up on Love Island.

But the sweet moment hadn't last long and before you knew it she'd tripped over a discarded trainer and promptly dropped you down half a flight of stairs. Luckily all you suffered was a slight cut above your eyebrow from a knock against the banister, and a lovely week of mild bruising on your tailbone. But forever overprotective alessia had insisted you go right to the emergency room to get assessed for a concussion, and there was no convincing her otherwise.

After the cut had been cleaned and sealed with a band aid, you'd been deemed not concussed and alessia had copped a stern talking to from mary who she'd called for a ride, all was well again.

"you wouldn't." "lessi my love we both know I would."

"you know blackmail is a very unattractive quality." alessia tutted with a shake her head, the hint of a smile ghosting her lips betraying her attempt at a stern look as you smiled smugly, knowing you'd won.

"go shower, i have to keep doing these reports anyway." your face softened as you gently tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind the strikers ears, the older girl melting at the sincere touch as she stole a quick kiss and pushed herself off of you, standing to her feet and padding off upstairs.

You watched her go with a smile, shaking your head and readjusting your position, grabbing your laptop and mentally checking back into the work with a click of your mouse pad and a sigh.

You had powered through another three reports by the time your girlfriend returned, her skin care routine always taking up an elaborate amount of time, though your own routines often out lasted hers so you had no room to comment.

Your indecisiveness, non existent sense of urgency and endless 'final' touch ups when getting ready meant the two of you were known to be late for any event you were invited to, something that frustrated your incredibly punctual girlfriend to no end. But as you were always quick to cheekily remind her with a kiss, perfection took time.

The blonde joined you again on the couch, this time grabbing your mostly bare legs, save for a very short pair of football shorts, and lifting them to rest on her lap. Slotting her body in beside you, she fondly lent over to kiss your cheek before grabbing the remote from where it lay tucked into the side of the lounge.

Your eyes glanced up from your screen with a quiet chuckle as she clicked in to watch united's match from last week, the calculated re-watching a common habit for the striker the night before a game. You were much accustomed to all of her pre and post match routines, and knew her well enough to know exactly what she needed from you on all occasions, win or lose, good game or bad.

"Where'd you dig these out from then?" The girl mused quietly, fingers tugging up your hoodie and prodding accusingly at the baby blue unc kit shorts she'd sworn she'd lost during the move to your current shared flat.

"I've always known where they were." you answered cheekily as your lips quirked into a smile, eyes flickering over to hers before returning to your screen, now being alessia's turn to roll her eyes playfully at your vague response.

Throughout the entire course of your relationship right down to the first few months of dating, her clothes had always seemed to magically appear on your body or in your closet. The girl having to practically beg for them to be given back, you only begrudgingly returning them once they stopped smelling like the Italian beauty you were rapidly falling head over heels for.

(though not that she had to confess to you how much she enjoyed you wearing her clothes for you to catch on how much she did. The blonde was hardly subtle in her affections toward you on a regular day, let alone when she'd return from training or wake up after a sleep in to you pottering around in the kitchen wearing only her jersey, last name sprawled proudly across your shoulder blades)

It all started off harmless, the taller girl always having been incredibly affectionate and touchy toward you, which was no issue given both your love languages included touch. Her hands rested innocently on your knees, tracing small shapes into the soft skin, but then they started to move a little higher, wandering hands gently grabbing at your thighs.

"alessia." you warned quietly, quickly moving her hands away from where they sat dangerously close to the hem of your hoodie. The blonde only hummed, eyes trained in concentration to the game on the tv in front of her, hands laying dormant on your thighs, perfectly manicured and resuming their absent minded tracing.

"less." you warned again, this time with a tired sigh as her hands slid up your legs and her fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts, nails scratching gently against your hips. "I think you should take a break amore mio." the striker smiled charmingly, hands immediately placed back to where you'd moved them from, the girl interlocking your fingers and bringing them to her lips, gently kissing the back of your palm.

"love we go through this every term, I have to get these reports done. Would you rather I not come to your game tomorrow? Because if we carry on with what you want right now, that's going to be the outcome." You again sighed, your girlfriend leaning in to bury her face into your neck as you messed around with the rings adorning her slender fingers.

"Of course I want you at the game. Just take a small break, let me give you a massage or something." The girl mumbled, pressing feather light kisses to the sensitive skin, your eyes briefly fluttering closed in pleasure before you shrugged her away.

"Five minutes, that's it." You warned seriously, your girlfriend nodding eagerly as her lips quickly reattached to your neck. "Please don't tell me you're setting a timer." she sighed, forehead slumping down to press into your shoulder with a groan, already knowing the answer to her own question as you finished up tapping away at the apple watch on your wrist.

You placed your laptop back on the coffee table, your girlfriend nudging for you to adjust your position on the lounge, turning your body so your back pressed into her front.

"Baby your shoulders are ridiculously knotted, try to relax." alessia chastised quietly, you withholding a moan as her fingers dug expertly into your skin, working hard to try and de-stress your tightly clenched muscles.

"is it working?" the blonde asked softly, peppering buttery kisses down the side of your jaw and you hummed, closing your eyes with a content sigh of relief.

"good. So, mearps and tooney will be here in a bit to-" alessia started as your eyes shot open, stress once again consuming you, pushing your body away from hers, eyes widening.

"Tonight? I have to get back to these reports less." you sighed tiredly, both of you jumping slightly as your timer sounded and you were quick to tap it off, moving your body further away from alessia's who frowned at the sudden lack of contact.

You adored your girlfriends team mates, both at club and country, all of them making sure you knew that just because they were alessia's friends first didn't mean they loved or cared for you any less.

lotte and georgia even having gone out of their way to give alessia herself a stern talking to about never breaking your heart, it may have been fueled by an alcohol filled celebration post euros win, but never failed to make you laugh or feel the sincere care from the other girls.

Right now however the two bubbly Manchester players were the last people you wanted to see, entertaining anyone a thought far from your reach and capacity at the moment.

You had plans you felt you couldn't back out of for the rest of your weekend. A doctors appointment tomorrow morning, lessons to be planned for the new term, going to alessia's game in the afternoon and out with her family for dinner afterwards. Then Sunday would be consumed by your own family, your grandmothers 95th birthday not something you could just skip out on, and your family were not ones to half do a celebration so you knew it would be a full day commitment.

So in accordance you'd planned to get your reports done tonight so you could enjoy your weekend stress free.

Though subconsciously you knew 'stress free' was always going to be a lie.

You'd had a lot longer than a few days to get these done, but with procrastination and long days overwhelmed by wrangling 25 stir crazy holiday hungry students, your week had drizzled by without a single one touched, every time you tried filled with someone else needing your attention, both at school and at home.

It didn't help that because your girlfriends love language was touch, when your attention couldn't be on her in the minimal time you had alone together during your busy weeks, she'd often become quite frustrated and needy.

"I don't see why you're upset, haven't you had all week to get them done?" your girlfriend questioned, not intending it to come across as accusatory as it did. "alessia-" you started with a sharp sigh, fingers squeezing the bridge of your nose as you pressed your eyes closed.

"you know the time leading up to the end of term is the busiest for me. The kids are wild and un-engaged but I still have to get through the last of the curriculum with them, I have to go through all their homework and all their assignments to collate these reports, I have to forward plan my lessons for next term so I can actually have a break in-between them-" you paused to take another deep breath, feeling the stress bubbling up rapidly inside you.

"- we have plans with our families all weekend, I need peace and quiet to get these done tonight and as much as I love tooney and mearps we both know that won't happen if they're here." You inhaled, closing your eyes and letting go of the bridge of your nose to run your hands through your hair, letting out a slow and shaky exhale.

"So you have had all week to get them done then." alessia shot back without thinking, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly as you paused to take a breath, knowing that if you gave in to an argument there was even less chance of you getting things done.

"Can you not just reschedule to another night? Or go to one of their houses?" You asked softly, trying not to let your emotions win over. "Could you not have worked on your time management? I feel like we have this exact same argument over your inability to mange your own work load all the time!" alessia challenged with a frown, your own face falling at the lack of understanding and support from the girl who was supposed to be your partner.

"like you said, this happens every term. You never manage your time right and get overwhelmed and stressed when it comes to a head when all of your stress could be avoided if you just learnt from the mistakes made last time, prioritized things correctly and fixed the problem!" alessia huffed, throwing her hands up and sending you a pointed look of annoyance.

"you know what? You're absolutely right alessia I don't have the time management to argue about this right now. And yes this is all my fault, because between being needed at school or needed by my students or their parents or needed by my own family or my own friends or your friends or my coworkers or my boss, how dare I not prioritize you and your needs from me. Oh wait? That's what I'm trying to do so I can come to your stupid fucking match tomorrow! So congratulations you are absolutely right and you do whatever you want, just leave me alone and don't expect to see me there tomorrow." you finally snapped, the stress bubbling up and boiling over before you even had a moment to take a breath.

Standing to your feet and snatching your phone and laptop from the table you stormed off upstairs, the slam of the bedroom door seemingly triggering knocks at the front one announcing the arrival of your dinner guests, who had no idea what they were about to walk into.

Alessia looked upstairs and bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating following you, but the continuing knocks at the front door had made the decision for her, the girl composing herself before hurrying over to open it. "Finally! What did I interrupt you mid shag?" mary teased, hurrying inside past her teammate who closed the door afterwards, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

"Hope everyone's decent!" mary yells looking around for you, the teasing grin falling flat from her face as she instantly picks up on the strange tension in the room and the somewhat guilty look plastered to the young blonde in front of hers face.

"Where's tooney then?" alessia asked quietly, making her way into the kitchen to grab mary something to drink. "Her turn to buy dinner, she was still trying to decide what to pick up on the way. Hey leave that, what's happened?" mary moved to close the fridge, nudging alessia and opening her arms, the younger girl accepting the hug with a troubled sigh.

"What's gone on less?" mary asked softly, dragging her to sit at the island as the older woman joined her, rubbing her back gently when alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before recounting the argument and most of what lead up to it.

"Oh less." mary sighed once she'd finished, alessia resting her head on her hand with a frown. "For a smart girl you're so thick sometimes." mary stated bluntly, shoving the strikers head off of her hand as she swiped her arm out from beneath her. "mary!" alessias frown deepened, shoving the girl back whose smile only grew.

"when you get home from late training, whose got dinner ready and waiting for you on the table?" mary simply asked, shutting down the blondes questions with a wave of her hand, waiting patiently for an answer.

"she does." alessia mumbled.

"when you're in a strop cause we lose or you miss a sitter, whose there afterwards to build you back up and look after you?" mary questioned again, her pointed look shutting down any protests from the younger girl who sighed and repeated the same answer as before.

"when we go on national camps, we're away for what? weeks at a time? same thing with tournaments, away games, media days, we were gone for months with the euro's-" mary continued as alessia let out yet another troubled sigh, the pieces starting to slot together in her head.

"okay yes, I get it." the younger girl intervened, mary waving her off before continuing.

"no less, let me finish. You got upset because what? she doesn't give in to your cry for attention and give into whatever you want from her? which mind you she does do every other day, as well as give her entire care and attention to twenty five kids, daily. God knows I struggle to deal with you lot who are adults daily! Not to even think about how much pressure is likely put on her from the school, her students parents, people can treat teachers like shit. But despite that she still goes out of her way to do the little things like double check your kit bag for you on a weekend in case you forgot something, leave those soppy little notes in your bags for you to find when we go away to camp, go out of her way to cook for you and have it ready when you're home late . But that's probably because she knows how moody you get when you don't eat right." mary joked lightly, bumping her shoulder playfully against her teammates.

"my point is, you can hardly have a go at her for you not thinking she's managing her time right. When the main things you're sopping about her not having time for is something she avoids things like her work, to do. So really..." mary trailed off, looking hopefully to the blonde beside her.

"-she's not bad at managing her time, I need to get better at managing my expectations around her time." alessia finished as mary's eyebrows shot up in surprise, that answer better than what she was even angling for.

"bingo!" mary confirmed as alessia let out another loud groan, feeling the weight of the dirt from the hole she'd dug herself into beginning to weigh heavily on her shoulders. "that makes it sound like I'm one of her students just constantly demanding her time and attention." alessia whined into her hands, shaking her head remorsefully. "I mean you said it, but if the shoe fits..." mary trailed off with a shrug, unable to argue the somewhat valid point made.

"less, you've been infatuated with the girl since you laid eyes on her in that coffee shop, there's a reason we took the mick out of you for it. Show her that when she's struggling to manage her time and her workload, you're there as her partner to help her shoulder it and work through it. Support her like she's always supporting you, its not all about the big gestures either. Do the little things that help take away from the stress she's feeling right now, you love each other very very much, and she still knows that." mary comforted the striker, again gently rubbing a hand up and down her back as alessia nodded.

"well I'd say my work here is done, that'll be 250 pounds for my valuable time and treasured advice please." mary stood to her feet, holding out her hand expectantly, alessia unable to keep from cracking a small smile as she pushed the keepers arm away.

"right. I'll go call tooney and we'll bugger off, you go fix things with your lady and hopefully I'll see you both tomorrow. But-" mary started before alessia cut her off, guessing already what the keeper had to say. "-but if she has reports to do, it's okay that she misses the game." alessia confirms, mary beaming proudly as the two of them walked to the front door.

"good girl, god they grow up and learn so quickly." mary wiped a fake tear from her face as alessia practically shoved her out the door, thanking her and with a quick hug she was disappearing off into the crisp april air.

meanwhile you sat upstairs trying your very best to concentrate on the reports in front of you, your mind running rampant with the stress at the thought of not getting them done, the overthinking causing somewhat of an internal meltdown as you closed your laptop and laid down with a large sigh.

a knock at the bedroom door shifted your focus, you sat back up and hastily yanked the laptop open before resting it on your knees, calling for alessia to come in. the blonde gingerly opened the door and leant against the frame, rocking awkwardly on the balls of her feet as your eyes stayed trained to your screen.

"i made dinner." the older girl announced softly, running a hand through her hair with a small sigh when you didn't respond. "do you want me to bring you up a plate so you can keep working?" she took a seat carefully on the corner of the bed, reaching out to place a hand on your ankle, a small sense of relief spreading through her body when you didn't push her away.

"i'm sorry." "i'm sorry."

you looked up as you both spoke in sync, small smiles settling on both your faces as you did.

"you don't have anything to be sorry for, I've been quite selfish. You have so much on your plate at the moment and instead of helping you share the load I've just been adding to it and complaining when things don't go my way. that's not healthy and not helpful and i'm really sorry, i hope it isn't too late to change that." alessia was quick to apologize again as you closed your laptop and moved, sat beside one another at the end of the bed.

"i could have communicated things a little better instead of just bottling it all up and then snapping on you, that wasn't fair and i'm sorry too. And you were right I do need to get better at managing my time and prioritizing things so it doesn't all bank up to be dealt with at the last minute." you admitted shyly, the both of you reaching out for the others hands, fiddling absentmindedly with one another's fingers.

"i love you." alessia blurted out, a smile creeping onto your face at the words, echoing them back as you both shared a tender kiss, relief filling both your bodies that the argument for now had been resolved.

"where's mearps and tooney?" you asked, perking up as you suddenly remembered part of what lead to the argument in the first place. "at their own places, mary might have popped over and admittedly talked some sense into me." the italian admitted with a guilty smile, the two of you sharing a look before bursting out into laughter, both of you looking toward the keeper as an older sister figure for this reason.

"so, game plan." your girlfriend straightened up, kissing your knuckles before dropping your hand. "i'll bring you up some dinner, you work on your reports, try to go to bed before eleven and get some sleep. then tomorrow i'll drive you to your appointment in the morning, go to my game. You stay here, and do your reports. i'll tell my family we'll go to dinner next week instead, they come every week so they won't mind, we order pizza for dinner and i'll be around if you need anything but i'll stay out of your hair. Then hopefully everything's done by your grandmas birthday on sunday." alessia rambled out, only pausing to take a breath once she'd finished.

"less, baby-" your eyebrows knitted together, the girl holding up her hand to silence your protests before they could fall from your mouth. "no, you always go above and beyond for me, this is the least i can do for you. please?" she practically begged, hand coming to softly rest on your cheek as you nodded, leaning in to connect your lips again, smiling at the all too familiar feeling of warmth it ignited in you.

long term you knew this was a problem you had to work on, but for right now, wrapped up in your little love bubble, you knew things were going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #mary earps #lionesses x reader #woso community #woso

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part-time-zombie · 3 months ago

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Ok I've either reached some sort of analytical epiphany here, or I fully fried my brain and I'm no longer making sense. Either way...

seven sides = seven deadly sins.

Roman = Pride.

Easy enough, he represents the ego and pride in a most literal sense (along with passion and creativity). A wound to his ego creates literal pain, and his reputation/role as a heroic prince means everything to him since his very existence is tied to being the "good" part of imagination.

Remus = Lust.

Another easy one, but I think it's more than just the dirty jokes here. It had been suggested before that since Remus represents all forbidden/unwanted thoughts that c!thomas rejected/repressed because he thought they were bad, there likely may have been a point where he was also his closeted homosexuality in the past.

Virgil = Sloth.

Procrastination is a common practice from Virgil, one he either unintentionally prompts or openly promotes. Anytime something stressful or challenging occurs, Virgil always seems to suggest inactivity and avoidance as the solution, preferring to hide from the issue altogether instead of making any effort into fixing it.

Orange = Wrath (?)

Not much is really known here, but from what we've seen so far it's fair to assume that anger is a driving force if not a direct role for the orange side, though future videos may provide more insight.

Janus = Greed.

Greed is a desire to collect and hoard material wealth/resources, with no intention of sharing or using it. It is innately selfish (and not always in a good way) and the way I feel this translates to Janus is by him wanting c!thomas to prioritize himself above all else, even if it involves letting others down. He wants Thomas to seek out the things he wants in life (like the callback) and to take it without feeling bad about choosing his own happiness. This isn't just for goals/achievements, though, he also wants thomas to save his free time/availability for himself without giving it out carelessly. It's as he said: "it's your time and you do what you want with it". He wants Thomas to remove the blindfold and take what he wants while he still can, before the opportunity is lost again.

Patton = Envy.

This one was a little tough, but I think I made it make sense (at least to me). Patton is Thomas' morality, something instilled in him by observing and imitating those around him. As such, Patton's ideals largely come from him comparing himself and Thomas to others. Sure, Thomas is good, but is he as good as someone else? Can be be better? Can he be perfect, and what counts as perfect to begin with? Patton is constantly looking to outside influences to determine what standards to set, which is why Janus managed to help get through to him when he needed guidance in pof. In a way, Patton is envious of others for them seemingly having gotten it all figured out and being effortlessly good (which is obviously ridiculous, but Patton may have had issues with realizing that).

Logan = Gluttony.

In all seriousness, though, this is about more than just crofters. Gluttony is an obsessive overindulgence of material pleasures and consuming more than is healthy. It differs from greed in that greed focuses on amassing wealth and holding onto it, while gluttony uses up everything it can as quickly as possible. How does that relate to Logan? Well, instead of simply associating this with jam or wine, I like to think he is gluttonous of c!thomas' time. He says he experiences a "titillating, tingling sensation whenever deadlines are met" and regularly tried to direct as much of the focus onto himself and his plans as possible, and becomes frustrated without having surplus time to work. It's not like that time is wasted, though. He does quite the opposite by trying to prioritize all of the time to what he wants, even when it's at a detriment to the others/thomas. He allotted only 0.5% of the day to hopes and dreams, insisting the rest of the day be spent as he pleases. Why? Because being prioritized means he's important and respected, which for him is like the best feeling in the world. And going by how eagerly he devours crofters or chugs wine, it's clear that anything he finds enjoyable will be immediately consumed.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #analysis #does this make sense #am i onto something?#or am i overthinking it #this wouldn't leave my head #what do you think?#sanders sides theory

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catslvrr · 1 year ago

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one too many years

kim minji x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Minji comes back into your life after 3 years and asks you to take her on a drive, for old time’s sake. There’s a lot of feelings involved.

Contains: cursing

Playlist

You were fourteen when you first met Minji.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You had seen her around, since you practically shared all the same classes, but never had the chance to interact one-on-one. She was merely a passing thought — that pretty girl who sat in the top ranks alongside you.

It was when the two of you had been paired up for a science project — something about a presentation on the digestive system, that you finally got to know each other. But not necessarily in a good way. You didn’t leave the best first impression after the first conversation.

You weren’t a hardworking person. But you weren’t stupid either. Growing up, you were used to being one of the smartest in the room. Teachers would always praise you for being naturally intelligent and academically gifted. You would do the bare minimum, leaving everything to the last minute, and yet always somehow end up with almost perfect scores.

You grew complacent, cruising through school with no worries in the world. So when you first started working with Minji, and she rambled on about meetups and splitting tasks and deadlines, you couldn’t help but internally scoff.

Minji pulled you out of your thoughts with a tap on the arm. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” You reflexively closed the MonkeyType tab.

“I asked what parts you wanted to cover,” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“Oh,” you waved dismissively. “Just give me what you don’t wanna do, and I’ll send you the stuff the day before it’s due.”

“What?” Minji scowled. “That’s way too late. I won’t even have time to proofread it and make the presentation pretty.”

“Two days?” You suggested with a half-smile.

She ran her fingers through her hair as she let out a sigh. “Three.”

“Okay, boss!” You grinned, opening up MonkeyType again and aggressively typing away, trying to beat your WPM record. “Done deal.”

Minji stared at you for a few seconds longer before huffing and turning to her laptop, starting her research.

(The two of you passed with flying colors, to no one’s surprise (except Minji’s), and that was when any grudges that Minji held against you flew out the window. Because if there was one thing Minji cared about, it was her grades.)

And that was how the two of you officially forged your friendship — Minji would always force you to be partners for any collaborative projects that came up, and you didn’t have anyone else to partner up with anyway.

You slumped back in your chair and balanced yourself on its hind legs, looking around the room in boredom. Everyone else seemed to be actually doing their work. Something about researching a famous author.

“Hey,” you bumped Minji’s knee with yours under the table.

She ignored you for a few minutes until she couldn’t stand the constant nudging. She stomped her foot on yours.

“Fuck!”

“What do you want?” She hissed under her breath.

“What’re you doing?” You leaned towards her, obnoxiously peering over her shoulder to scan the document she had opened. It was a bunch of gibberish, to you anyway, but it had a nice color coding system at least.

“Researching Sylvia Plath,” she muttered. “Something that you should also be doing right now.”

“You know I’ll get it done,” you smiled cheekily, casually draping your arm on her chair.

Minji chose not to reply. You watched her type up an analysis of one of Plath’s texts, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your foot.

“…Have you ever tested your words per minute?”

She gave you a side-eye. “What’s that?”

You bit back a smile. You knew how competitive she was. “It’s just a measure of how fast you can type. Think the average is around 80 or something.”

You could practically see her ears perk up at the word ‘average’.

“Is that what you do every lesson?”

“Most of the time. Or I’m playing Octagon.”

“Am I meant to know what Octagon is?”

“I’ll introduce it to you next time.” You shifted Minji’s chair closer to yours and dragged your laptop to her. “Here, try it out. You just have to type the words on the screen for 15 seconds straight. The words are random.”

“Is that it?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

You nodded. “You can type whenever. The timer starts as soon as you type.”

You watched as she began furiously typing, almost poking holes through the keys. Your eyes flitted around the room, checking to see if anyone noticed Minji assaulting her keyboard.

“Damn,” you whistled as the final score showed up. “Not bad.”

“100 and it’s my first time,” Minji proudly beamed and cracked her knuckles. “I’m above average.”

“Alright, relax,” you laughed softly. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, hotshot.”

“What’s your record?” She eyed you suspiciously.

You tried to hide your smirk as you shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing much. Just a measly 160.”

“What?” Her face dropped. “No way.”

“Yes way,” you nodded smugly. You successfully set the bait, now all you needed to do is reel it in. “There’s actually a website where we can ‘race’ against each other.”

Minji opened a new tab and swiveled her laptop in your direction, a doubtful look on her face. You smiled victoriously as you clicked your way to TypeRacer. Caught her.

The two of you spent the rest of the lesson racing against each other, Minji grumbling every time she lost (which was every round).

It was something else — watching Minji slowly unravel and open up to you. When you were expecting her to start homework early in class, she would ask you to get on TypeRacer instead. The two of you spent time playing other games too: Lavaboy and Watergirl, Tetris, Cool Math Games, and Octagon, of course.

Unfortunately, you still had to do work. There was an unspoken compromise that you could only get her to play games after you had finished the assigned work, so you actually ended up not procrastinating and finishing everything early for once (and in record time, too).

Becoming friends with Minji was easy. Seeing each other every day, you naturally grew closer and talked about everything under the sun. And eventually the two of you became inseparable. The two of you became known to be attached to the hip, never one without the other. You were proud of this, proud to be associated with such a good person, and you hoped Minji felt the same.

(Internally, you were surprised that Minji would choose to continue being friends with you outside of classes. There were better classmates out there. Regardless, you were grateful for the opportunity.)

You grew up together. You were there when she broke down in the bathroom after her speech on climate change because she thought she bombed it (she didn’t). You were there when she discovered the Harvard Reference Generator for the first time (she had written bibliographies by hand before this, which was absolutely mind-boggling to you).

Likewise, she was there when you were panicking at 5am because you hadn’t finished your history research paper on the Indo-China war that was due in two hours. She was there when you accidentally fell asleep in the library and almost missed the next class.

There was no better person to call a best friend. So it wasn’t much of a surprise that falling in love with Minji was even easier. There was no dramatic realization, no lightbulb moment where you suddenly stopped in your tracks and felt the world flip on your head as you thought Fuck, I like Minji.

It was quieter, creeping up on you, as if it was always there. As if it had already been written in fate. You do remember the first time you consciously admitted it though, cementing it in your heart.

Both of you were 15 by then. It was a languid Tuesday afternoon, and you were doodling random shapes as the teacher droned on about erosion and longshore drift. You lazily smiled as you observed Minji — the sharp slope of her nose, the crinkle in between her eyebrows, her tongue slightly poking out as she diligently wrote down notes.

Feeling your gaze on her, Minji turned to you and quirked her eyebrow, nudging you as she wrote ‘What are you staring at?’ on the margin of her notes. You shrugged innocently and looked away with a smile and burning ears.

She’s pretty, you thought. I like her.

Young love — it was naive and innocent. You would do stupid things to get Minji’s attention, like leaving your collar messy or ruffling your hair just so she would fix it. You remember making playlists with her in mind so you could zone out and daydream about her. You cherished these moments. You weren’t one to want, but you wanted Minji.

To you, Minji was the highlight of your high school experience. From sharing Airpods in class and queuing airhorn sounds to watch her jump in her seat when it blasted out of nowhere, to inviting yourself to her Google documents so that you could change the font to be unreadable and the color to a blinding neon pink, to receiving her Airdrops of cute puppy photos, to accidentally downloading viruses from trying to watch anime on illegal streaming websites, to taking Photobooth pictures of each other sleeping.

And this was enough for you. Habits were hard to break, and your longstanding tendency of procrastinating didn’t appear out of nowhere. It was rooted deeply in the fear of failure — you were so used to being good at everything on your first try, or without having to try at all, that you were scared that if you did try, and failed, people’s perception of you would change.

So procrastination was a way for you to control this fear; it provided a scapegoat, for if you ever failed, you could blame it on a lack of time rather than your own shortcomings.

This fear translated to your feelings for Minji too. You had never liked anyone else before, and you were terrified of failure, the unknown possibilities that came with confessing. You would rather swallow down your feelings and bury them deep within your chest than have to face rejection and lose your best friend.

(And it wasn’t like you thought you had a chance either. She had always been the smarter one, the kinder one, the more responsible one out of the two of you.)

And so you let the feelings fester in silence, all the way up to graduation. It wasn’t easy to hide your feelings, but it wasn’t hard either. You resorted to teasing Minji like you always did, and seeing her happy was enough. She stayed focused on her studies and continued to excel in all her classes.

Your job was just to be there for her, to be the one to help her relax and find respite from studying.

You were both 18 when you graduated high school. Minji was going away for university, somewhere far away where you couldn’t follow. You weren’t shocked — you always knew Minji was greater than this place. That’s how it always was in your head: she would go on to find success while you stayed behind in the shadows, cheering her on.

You had a plethora of things to thank Minji for. She never let you fall behind. Even if her kicks on your shin left bruises, at least it got you to stop playing Minecraft on your laptop and attempt to be productive.

It was embarrassing to admit that one of your biggest motivations to study and try was to be considered worthy as Minji’s friend. Not that you would admit it to anyone. You made it to graduation, and that’s what mattered.

You never liked saying goodbye to Minji, but you knew she would do well wherever she went. This goodbye wasn’t like the others, where you knew you could go to sleep with the promise that the two of you would meet at the school gates the next day.

It was more definitive.

You let out a long exhale as you leaned against the school gate, waiting for Minji to finish speaking to teachers, friends, and family who were congratulating her.

You watched as students filed out, chatting animatedly and taking photos together. You probably weren’t going to remember any of them. You plopped a lollipop in your mouth. It was strawberry-flavored, just how Minji liked it.

You smiled as you saw Minji coming out.

“Hey, Miss Popular,” you teased. “Done greeting all your fans?”

She rolled her eyes. “Are we going to get ice cream?”

“Yeah,” you pushed yourself off the gate and started walking to your car. “I thought that ceremony was never going to end. Tell me why every speaker kept yapping on and on.”

“Right,” she groaned. “I was trying my hardest not to fall asleep.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while before Minji broke it. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “The same, I guess. How about you?”

“Scared,” she admitted. “University seems like such a big change.”

“Yeah,” you said. You had been trying not to think about it. “You’ll be leaving in a few weeks, right?”

She bit her lip as she nodded. You both got in the car.

“Have you packed?”

“I’m about halfway done. It’s harder than I thought,” she complained sulkily. “I want to take everything with me.”

“Does everything include me?” You asked cheekily as you started the car, passing Minji your phone to pick a song.

“Absolutely not,” she deadpanned. “You would be the last thing I’d bring.”

“Liar. I’m way better than whoever you’re getting as a roommate.”

“Are we talking about the same person? I’ve literally seen the state of your room… it’s like a landfill in there.”

“No it’s not,” you said defensively. “It may be a little messy, but everything has its own place. It’s organized in its own way.”

“Sure,” she chuckled. “You keep telling yourself that.”

You pulled up to the place. You took a while to parallel park (Minji laughing at you while recording didn’t help), but you got it eventually. It was a quaint little store, and the two of you were regulars. You both got hooked after discovering this place when you got lost trying to find where you parked for a shopping trip.

You smiled when you heard the familiar chiming of the bell as you opened the door, the air-conditioning hitting you in the face. You chucked your lollipop stick in the bin. The store owner, a middle-aged woman from the area, looked up and waved in recognition.

She was sweet, sometimes giving you both an extra scoop or toppings if you showed her good test results (which was all the time). The only issue you had with her was that she kept trying to set Minji up with her son who was almost graduating from university.

“The usual?” She asked, already preparing your cups.

“Yes, please,” Minji answered with a polite smile.

You both sat down after collecting the ice cream with thank you’s and the payment (this one was on you). Minji would always get the cheesecake flavor (which you never understood and adamantly refused to try), while you would settle for the classic chocolate. Sometimes, if you felt adventurous, you would ask for pistachio.

“It’s hard to believe that this might be the last time I eat here for a while,” Minji said.

“I know,” you pouted. “The poor store is gonna lose so much money now that you’re gone.”

You winced as she kicked you under the table. You mentally noted to get your shin x-rayed at some point.

“You're so annoying,” she grunted. “Can’t you be sentimental for once?”

You were sentimental. Especially when it came to Minji. You just weren’t the type to show it. That was one of the differences between the two of you — Minji was straightforward and self-assured, never having trouble voicing her feelings. You, on the other hand, preferred to mask your emotions with humor and deflections, saying a lot without really saying much.

You liked that about Minji. It was definitely jarring when you were first getting to know each other, but you learned to appreciate her bluntness and honesty. It meant you didn’t have to overthink as much.

“I am sentimental!”

“You literally gave me a card that just said ‘HBD’ on it for my birthday. Actually, it wasn’t even a card! It was a post-it note.”

“That is sentimental…”

Minji glared at you.

“Okay,” you huffed, folding your arms. “Maybe it’s not. But it’s the thought that counts.”

“If you’re so thoughtful,” she tilted her head. “You wouldn’t mind helping me clean and pack, right?”

“…Fine.”

You regret not getting a parting gift for Minji when she left. Her departure was bittersweet, like all departures tend to be, with tearful promises to keep in touch. You never ended up confessing, and so you tucked away your feelings in the locked box that held all of your memories with Minji — the one you kept hidden in your closet, filled with birthday letters from her, polaroids, receipts and other miscellaneous collectibles from your time spent together.

The hardest part was watching her cry as she said goodbye, both to her family and friends. She had always been more of the crier between the two of you. You remember her pulling you in for a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around you as her tears stained your hoodie.

“I’ll miss you,” she sniffled. “Keep in touch, okay?”

“I’ll miss you too,” you mumbled, barely audible over the chatter in the crowded airport. “You’ll do great, just like you always do.”

She pulled back with a sad smile. “Thank you, Y/n. I’ll try to come back soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

You held back your tears on the drive home, only allowing yourself to cry when you reached the comfort of your bed.

You weren’t one to welcome change. You enjoyed the stability that routine brought. Minji leaving was a change that left a gaping hole nothing could fill. You always preferred solitude, but the loneliness that was gnawing at you because of Minji’s absence was hard to adapt to.

‘Keeping in touch’ never really works out the way you want it to. The first few months were fine, the two of you consistently Facetiming and texting as you both settled into uni life. Then as months went by, texts were less frequent, especially during exam season.

By the time you were both 20, communication was sparse between the two of you. The two of you were never avid texters anyway. You did chat from time to time, making small talk, or talking when there was something to talk about, like birthdays or a memory popping up on Snapchat.

Small talk with her wasn’t really small talk though. You savored every conversation, clinging onto past memories and what she made you feel.

It wasn’t really the same. Both of you knew this. You never held it against Minji, though. Watching her Instagram stories with her new friends and posts of her adventures brought you happiness. You hoped she was happy too.

But on the melancholic nights when you went out on drives to ease the emptiness, coasting through the sleeping streets with nothing but the moon to guide the way, you felt Minji’s ghost in the passenger seat. And if you tried hard enough, you could almost feel her presence, imagine her soft laughter.

You would always wonder if she was also thinking of you when she lay in bed at night, when she opened up a new document, or when she went and ate ice cream with her friends.

When the ache in your chest was too much to bear, you would roll down the window, find solace in the wind blowing against your face, and turn up the volume of your playlist to drown out your own thoughts. You felt silly for yearning for someone who was miles away now, both literally and metaphorically.

You were 21 when you met Minji again. It was the end of the year, so anyone who left was finding their way back home for the Christmas break. You knew she was coming back, you saw the stories of her packing and the pre-flight pictures.

This was the first time she was coming back — she couldn’t make it the previous three years. You didn’t know why, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t know if you still had a place to ask.

She texted you and asked to hang out. It didn’t really come to fruition until one unsuspecting Friday night. You were playing a parkour map on Minecraft when you received a call notification from her. You almost dropped your phone when you saw it.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, hey.”

You wiped the sweat off your palms. It had been a while since you last heard her voice.

“Did you need something? It’s almost midnight…”

You heard her scoff over the phone. “Don’t act like you go to sleep early.”

“I’m not! It’s just, you know, pretty random for you to call out of nowhere. Especially at this time.”

There was a short pause. You set your phone on your lap as you continued to make your way through the parkour map, distinctly tasting the strawberry flavor of the lollipop more now, for some reason. You knew why.

“Are you seriously playing Minecraft right now?”

You stopped. “…Maybe. How'd you know?”

“I can hear you smashing the space button,” she laughed, sounding almost fond. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

You cleared your throat to fight the embarrassment. “Anyways. What’s up?”

“Oh, right. I know it sounds crazy, but do you wanna go on a drive?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah. For old time’s sake, you know. And I miss you.”

“Um,” you got off your bed and opened your closet. “Sure.”

“You’re driving by the way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for letting me offer.”

You grabbed a familiar hoodie. It was Minji’s. You remembered Minji stealing your hoodie, and giving one of hers to you as a peace offering. You both agreed that the swapped hoodies were a better fit for each other. You decided to wear another one.

“I’ll pick you up in 15?”

“See you soon!”

“Wow,” Minji said as you pulled up in her driveway. “New car?”

She was still so pretty. You temporarily discarded the lollipop stick in the cup holder before popping your head out of the window. “Get in, loser.”

“I kinda miss your old one,” she clicked her seatbelt in as you started to reverse out.

“You sure about that?” You asked incredulously. “The air conditioning didn’t work half of the time. And the window on your side couldn’t fully roll down.”

Minji shrugged. “Still held a lot of memories.”

You both smiled as you reflected on the many nights spent in the old junk: belting your hearts out on highways, feasting on fast food in empty parking lots, sitting on the hood at lookouts that flaunted the city’s charms. You put on your playlist that you always had on loop whenever you thought about her.

“Speaking of memories,” she continued. “I see you still have this little guy.”

She poked the bobblehead of a monkey wearing sunglasses. It bobbled. She bought it on a whim at one of those quirky souvenir stores because the two of you were both born in the year of the monkey. Little Guy had been here for a while, since your old car.

“New car felt pretty empty,” you said. “I couldn’t live with the guilt of throwing him out.”

What you didn’t say: I have a bad habit of hoarding anything that reminds me of you.

“That’s good to hear,” she grinned, reaching into her pocket. “Because I bought him a friend!”

You glanced at Minji in amusement while the light was still red. She carefully placed the new bobblehead next to Little Guy. It was another monkey one, slightly taller than the original, and it was posing with a peace sign.

“Where’d you find that?”

“Pure coincidence,” she explained. “I was out shopping with my friends one day and I saw it. I knew I had to get it.”

You tried to focus on the road as thoughts began racing through your head. She still thought about you. That was good to know.

“Thanks.”

You bit your lip as there was another lull in the conversation. There would always be so much to say back then.

“I can't believe it’s been three years,” is what you settled for.

“Yeah,” Minji’s eyes softened. “It has.”

You tightened your grip around the gear stick. “How are things over there?”

“Really good,” she answered. “Besides university. That’s always a pain in the ass, no matter where you are.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said. And you truly meant it.

“I get homesick a lot, though,” she confessed. “I miss the food, my room, everything. You should visit one day.”

“Maybe,” you pursed your lips. “I’m super broke after buying the new car, though.”

“Do you still do the tutoring thing?”

“Yeah. It’s relatively easy and brings the money in.”

“I still can't believe you willingly tutor math.”

“And I still can't believe you don’t tutor. You’re so much smarter than me.”

“That’s not true,” she frowned. “But, I’m glad you bought the new car. So I don’t have to drive.”

You sighed in mock frustration. “Three years and you’re still a passenger princess.”

She only laughed in response. “Enough about me. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Just living life.”

Heat washed over you as you felt Minji’s intent gaze on you. There was always something so compelling about her, the fact that she could disarm you easily and make you feel unguarded.

“Uni sucks,” you continued hesitantly. “I’m still procrastinating. And playing Minecraft during my lectures.”

“I was wrong,” she said with a hint of a smile. “You’ve changed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I have?”

She tilted her head slightly, still studying you. “You seem more… withdrawn. And grown-up. Weary, even.”

“I’m the same as I always was,” you said, but you weren’t too sure who you were trying to convince. Maybe spending all this time alone along with the inevitability of growing up did change you.

“I’m still amazing at typing. None of my friends have beat my record yet.”

“Of course you still brag about that,” Minji rolled her eyes.

She turned to face the window again, watching the scenery that rushed past.

“But, my point still stands. You have changed. Since when was I the one to lead the conversation?” She asked playfully, but you knew there was some truth behind it.

Younger you would jump at the opportunity to hang out with Minji and talk her ears off. When the two of you started to grow apart due to the long distance, you subconsciously stopped initiating conversation. You just wanted to quell your feelings and move on as soon as possible. It worked, for the most part, you think.

Until tonight, that is. Seeing her again after all these years fostered emotions you weren’t sure you wanted to face. You’d never tell Minji any of this, though.

“You’ve changed too,” you said. “You look older. Hag.”

“Rude,” she scoffed and pinched your hand on the gear stick.

“I’m joking,” you continued with a faint tug on your lips. “You carry yourself lighter now. But you still have that maturity about you.”

She leaned back in satisfaction at your response, humming in acknowledgement.

“By the way, did you have a destination in mind?” You blurted out. “Cause I’m just driving mindlessly, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on you. She could always read you like a book. You hoped that these years changed that. She could probably feel the nervousness and awkwardness radiating off you.

You welcomed the silence as you tapped on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the current song, processing what was happening. Minji was here, in the car, with you now. Just like how it used to be. A different car now, though. And a different her. A different you, too. You had missed her so much, but now that she was here, you didn’t know how to feel or what to say.

You took a last-minute turn, deciding to drive on a path that you knew all too well, one you could practically drive with your eyes closed.

(Pass by the park where you would force Minji to push you on the swing. Keep driving straight until you reach that one flickering street lamp, then turn right. Continue driving, cross three roundabouts, then turn left on the fourth, driving onto a rocky road.)

Minji smiled as she recognized the destination.

You parked the car and the both of you hopped out, feet on the gravelly surface. You had walked on this ground so many times now that it was basically ingrained into your feet. The two of you sat on the hood of your car. It was a bit chilly, but the hood was still warm from the engine.

Minji breathed out deeply. “This view never gets old.”

“No,” you murmured in agreement. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Did you still come here?” She turned to look at you. “When I was gone, I mean.”

“Sometimes.”

The two of you continued to take in the view, both lost in your own thoughts.

You always wished you could capture a moment in time, especially the moments with Minji: the light fluttering in your chest, the quiet intimacy you two shared. This moment was no different.

Nostalgia was a deceiving thing. You had dreamt of this moment so many times — meeting Minji again. That it would be like the polaroids you kept at home, give you peace of mind, provide you with some sort of comfort. It was silly of you to think that, too idyllic and quixotic. Maybe it was a good thing that you’re not as optimistic anymore.

You could barely contain your shock when the next words came out of Minji’s mouth.

“I loved you, you know.”

You swallowed down the hope that started to rise in your chest like water. You didn’t want to drown in the feelings you had suppressed long ago.

“I loved you too,” you said warily, slightly confused. “You were my best friend.”

The use of past tense left a bitter taste in your mouth. But you were afraid she had moved on, found new friends and found a home in them.

Minji smiled wryly. “I meant that romantically. As in more than best friends.”

You took in a sharp breath. You wanted to cry. All those years I spent wanting, you thought, and she loved me too.

“You loved me?” You whispered in disbelief, wringing your hands together.

There was an unreadable look on her face. “You say that like it’s hard.”

Isn’t it? You wanted to say. What could you possibly have loved? The tight squeeze on your chest was persistent, uncompromising to your pain.

“I loved you too,” you said quietly. You had always thought confessing would lift the weight off your shoulders, free your heart from the burden of hiding. You never felt more hopeless than in this moment, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I?” Minji replied as she sagged her shoulders, her voice small. “I was so sure you only saw me as a friend. You were always teasing, so I didn’t know if you were seriously flirting or not. And you’re not the emotional type… I couldn’t tell how you felt about me.”

“I’m sorry,” you exhaled shakily. “You seemed so focused on your grades and your work, I thought I never stood a chance.”

“You don’t need to apologize. We were both stupid,” she shook her head with a chuckle. “I can’t believe teasing was your only way of showing affection. I think tonight’s the first time I’ve heard you say ‘I love you’.”

You never wanted to say it, because you felt guilty that it meant something else to you than it did to her (or you thought it did). You wanted to give your younger self a kick in the shin.

Minji’s eyes were glassy, shining with unhushed tears, and you wanted to reach out to her. Your hands were resting on the hood of the car, only centimeters apart. If you were brave enough, you would inch your finger closer, ever so slightly, to brush against hers.

But you were never courageous.

You felt like you were suddenly 14 again, staring at your laptop screen, staying up late to finish your Sylvia Plath research task, reading an excerpt from The Bell Jar. You had stared at the fig that held the possibility of you being Minji’s for so long, never daring to believe it, and watched it die. And the way your heart plummeted now was the fig dropping at your feet.

You tried to not let the quiver in your voice show. “Do you think things would be different now if one of us confessed back then?”

“Of course it would be,” Minji smiled ruefully. “But there’s no point in thinking about it too much. What’s done is done.”

She was right — what-ifs were a dangerous rabbit hole to find yourself in. You didn’t know which was more paralyzing: the fear of ‘what if Minji rejects me’ from back then, or the regret of ‘what if I had confessed’ now. It’s always so easy to berate yourself for making the wrong choice once you know the outcome.

Then, as an afterthought, she added, “I wonder how the younger versions of us would react to us now. I don't think they'd recognize us."

You laughed softly. “No, they wouldn't."

The two of you spent a few more minutes in silence.

“You’ll be leaving again in a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” she checked her phone, hopping off the hood. “We should head back. It’s almost 2am.”

There was so much left unsaid. But if you had learned one thing from tonight, it was that things were different now. This is how things were meant to end. Sometimes, things just don’t work out, and you just have to learn to live with it.

You should’ve realized how stuck you were in the past, your mind refusing to accept the fact that everything has changed. And that everything will continue to change.

There was a certain sense of freedom in the conversation on the way home, like the two of you knew that you wouldn’t get something like this again. You reminisced and laughed about the good old times, and you think that this was enough. This is what you needed.

Letting go can be a beautiful thing as much as it is painful. And love isn’t something you ever stop doing, or feeling, it’s always present in whatever fig you choose to grab, and it transforms into what it wills. You’ve chosen yours, and Minji’s chosen hers. You’ll always love her, just not how you used to.

“Thanks for the ride,” Minji clumsily pulled you in for a hug (it was a bit cramped because you were both in the car). “Take care of Little Guy and Big Guy.”

There weren’t any promises to keep in touch this time, and that was okay. If you were to ever see each other again, then nature will take its due course.

“Enjoy your time back here, Miss Popular,” you smiled. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

You watched Minji exit the car. There was a fleeting spark of hope as she lingered at the door, but you quickly shut it down. You weren’t the kids you used to be. But maybe in another lifetime, things would end up differently.

Your eyes followed her as she walked to the front door, waving at you before entering the house and closing the door behind her. You waited until you saw her bedroom light turn on through the window.

You started the drive back home and turned up the music, deciding to take the long way.

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #kim minji x reader

177 notes · View notes

eupheme · 11 months ago

Text

— i’ll be seeing you | part iii

[masterlist] | [playlist] | [part ii]

invisible man!alfred pennyworth x f!reader

rated e - 6k

tags: invisible man!au, age gap, holiday fluff, light angst, alfred is fully invisible/silent to reader, shared spaces, mutual pining, magical elements, holidays and christmas, kissing, FEELINGS, the Smut Chapter, masturbation, being walked in on, oral sex, brief free-use thoughts, unprotected PiV, invisible sex, mirror sex

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you'll crack yourself open, tell him everything. For now, you're content with the memory of his mouth on yours, the quiet confession he loosed over text. Even if he couldn't be more wrong.

Your fingers run across your lower lip, where you can still taste him.

The slight swelling of your flesh from the stolen moment in the hallway, a pounding that lingers in your chest even as you make it back to your room - the bags clutched in a fist as you wander, distractedly.

He hadn't returned when you called after him, a breathless gasp of his name. If it had been anyone else, you might have been offended. But this was Alfred, and you couldn't blame him. These weeks have been a slow circle of careful touches, a slow exchange of words.

Rarely impulsive. It makes your heart stutter, to think about it.

How he had moved, the hungry slant of his lips, the slip of his tongue.

It surely meant something.

If he hadn't stopped, you would have wanted more. Craved it. Content to stay in that hallway even, with how desperate his mouth made you. Socked feet soaked from the slush of your boots, frostbitten cheeks that now burn with the memory.

You hope he'll come to you.

Not tonight, you’re sure. Tomorrow, when the simmering warmth in your belly fades. In the morning, perhaps. The day will begin like all the others, and you’ll do your best to wait until he’s ready.

Already resisting the urge to seek him out, holding yourself back as you arrange your parcels. Writing a careful message, putting as much of your heart as you could into the gift. Simple, perhaps, but you had taken his request to heart.

It's left where he'll see it tomorrow. You're early - the day before Christmas Eve. But if he doubts your intentions, you hope that he'll find some comfort in the way you've been thinking about him.

There's only a little over a week left in your stay, but lately, it's felt less like a deadline. You care too much now, to let this be the end. Not knowing yet how you'll tell him - how you wish for more visits, how your heart refuses to let this be The End - but there, at least, you have time to drum up the courage.

You've always tried to look on the bright side, but you are a realist, after all. Even if his curse does not break, you don't think you'll mind.

Being with him feels like enough, in these moments together in the Tower. His touch has a weight, even if you can't see it. The messages shared have just as much meaning as a spoken voice.

It hasn't prevented you from knowing him.

And maybe.. maybe more than that.

Much more.

Your teeth grit, biting back your moan. The sound still sliding from your throat, as you push the blankets down further.

Fingers teasing past nipples peaked with the chill of the room and your thudding arousal. Making you shiver as they drift down, dipping between your thighs.

The kiss is still firmly rooted in your mind.

Just how he felt against you, the soft press of his mouth that turned passionate. An ache in your shoulder from where you had knocked against the coat rack, before he caged you against the wall. Stealing your breath.

It’s a welcome reminder.

You had holed yourself up, after the present had been placed. Snagging a photo for yourself as a reminder for later, for when you are gone. Liking the pretty splash of gold and red against the dark wood tones of the kitchen.

Surprise coming from the buzz of your phone some time later. His message - how dense he was for a man so clever. As if you hadn’t wished for him to do that very thing a hundred times over since you’ve discovered him.

Your own reply keyed quickly. A breathed out confession, sent with the photo you had taken.

Phone clutched to your chest, with another small smile at the thought of him seeing it.

You hoped tomorrow would come soon.

It had been impossible to not let your hands wander, when you replayed the moment for the umpteenth time. Skin bare after a shower, slipping beneath the covers to help speed up time.

You’ve wanted him for a long while. But now that you’ve had a piece - the memory of his body, his face beneath your fingers. The taste of his mouth, the soft groan you felt as your hands cupped the back of his neck - just desire was no longer enough.

There had been an ache, since. Insatiable, leaving you in a daze. You can feel it now, your need - as your fingers circle your clit, hips canting into the teasing pressure.

Slipping over slick skin, how even the thought of him has you wet and squirming. It’s not the first time he’s crossed your thoughts at night, but it’s the first time you’ve had something so vivid to imagine.

That old picture hazy behind your closed eyes, as you try to imagine his voice. Low, you think. Rough and accented and you’re certain he’d call you the prettiest names.

Darling. Gorgeous. My love.

His own slips free, sounding hushed in your empty room.

“Alfred.”

It’s a plea. Warmth pooling deep in your belly, a spark in your veins. Your breathing loud enough between your panting, parted lips that you almost miss the slow creak of a door opening.

Your door.

The watery light of the sconce outside creeps across the wooden floor. Your breath caught in your throat as you tear your hand away, reaching for the blanket to cover yourself.

Not knowing where to look, what to say until the mattress dips, an indent appearing in the thick duvet. The slightest brush at your wrist where the fabric is clutched to your chest.

Your heart racing, torn and twisted and so afraid you just ruined everything. That you’ve jumped too far ahead, that this would be too much for him.

“I’m sorry.” It’s weak, almost a whimper, “I didn’t think you’d hear, I-”

But you should have known.

He always comes when you call.

You had thought it was magic, another part of his curse. But maybe… it wasn’t. Maybe it’s been him all along.

Alfred’s thumb strokes your skin, before his other hand cups your cheek. So soft and tender that the fear starts to fade, a little shivering hitch of your chest as wished more than anything that you could see him.

And you try to find your words, once more.

“Is… is this okay?” It’s barely a whisper, a heat burning brightly as your face grows warm.

But his answer comes within seconds. Two quick presses at your wrist, almost pinching.

Yes.

And then his mouth is on yours. Index finger and thumb anchoring your chin in place as his lips brush, and then press.

You forget your grip on the blanket then, palms sliding over his chest, a hand splaying over the back of his neck.

Taking him with you into your nest of pillows, as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. As they open for him, the bed shifting as he settles closer - his hand leaving your wrist, brushing against your shoulder as it plants against the mattress for balance.

Your breath is caught in your throat, as he licks into your mouth. Even more hurried than beneath the mistletoe, soft moans in your throat as you try to pull him closer.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” You sigh, between kisses. Between the mouthful of air you wish you didn’t need, “Tomorrow though, okay? Just this, you, tonight-”

His answer comes instantly. Yes.

Meeting you, closing that last bit of gap.

The flutter of his pulse beats against your palm, where the meat of his thumb presses against your neck. Racing like yours is, so eager and so alive, that you’re pulling his hand down to your own heart.

Letting him cup your bare flesh, soft and supple. You think he must know what you mean, as his hand flattens. As you feel his moan in his throat, silent but there - buzzing against your lips.

Warm against yours, the wet soft press. How he opens for you as your hands slide to fist in his shirt. That black vest long shed as the hours turned late, buttons popped at his throat.

With your eyes closed like they are now, he’s never been more real to you. In this dark room he melds with the shadows, nose brushing yours as you sigh his name.

Solid and steady and warm, under your touch.

Coming with the greedy pull of your hands, fitting his body closer to yours. Fingers tracing over your bare skin, the softest pinch to the peak of your breast as his lips part from yours.

Pressing instead to your chin, your throat. Your own hands greedy, pulling and tugging. He comes willingly, settling against you as he shifts between legs that spread so readily, biting into his ribs.

You’ve touched him before. Weeks of light brushes - of getting his attention, of asking questions.

None of it compares to now - the very real weight of him. Pinning you as your hips lift, pressing into his stomach just as something warm and wet swirls against your breast.

Leaving behind glossy skin, your skin molding to his invisible touch as you gasp. You can feel the scrape of his beard against your skin as he moves to the other side. A gentle press of teeth that has you crying out, a leg hooking over his waist.

Fingers grasping at broad shoulders, slipping over velvet-short hair to twist in tamed curls. Anchoring yourself to him as you moan - wet before, now soaked through.

“Please touch me.” You’re begging, arching into the soft suction of his mouth. An ache in your belly - the knowing of something within your grasp, but being unable to reach it.

He lifts off you, then. Your hands slide over his chest, seemingly suspended in the air. A wrist caught with one of his own, your hand guided down to your center.

A pressure against your fingertips, lined carefully up against your clit.

Your breath is ragged, trying desperately to picture him. Feeling wonderfully exposed, as his fingers dent your skin. As yours slowly start to circle, wet and slick, as broken sigh slips from you.

It’s like your senses are heightened to his touch. Your thigh flexing when he lets go, a trailing touch against your skin again. Pleasure sparking at the swirl of your fingers, a little gasp when something ghosts over your slit.

Softly stroking, dragging. Over swollen, soaked flesh - his other hand sliding down to tap twice against your hip.

Teasing you - fingers just pressing against your opening, retreating - before those taps come again.

Your mind is hazy. As soft as the city lights that slip through the cracks in the curtains, bathing your skin. Taking you longer than usual to process that he’s asking you something - your answer coming in a rush.

“Yes.” You whine, “I need more. Please-”

The hand on your hip squeezes, as he fits his middle finger into you. Nudging the thick digit in slowly, stopping at each knuckle before drawing back, only to sink deeper next time.

It’s so different with him inside you. Already a fullness with just the slick pump, mimicking the circle of your fingers.

A noise ripping from your throat as he strokes deep and then curls. The pad of his finger brushing against a spot that has you clenching down around him.

“Oh my god,” Your fingers bite into his shirt, anchoring yourself to him, “Feels so good-”

The hand on your thigh soothes, as he works his ring finger in as well. A stretch now, with how thick they are. Your toes curling when both flex inside you, hips bucking into his touch.

Your fingers seem to move on their own - quick familiar flicks with one, the other hand wrapping in the cool sheets. Enough to make your fingers ache, as his own work deeper.

Loud, in the quiet room. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed at how wet he’s made you, the slick plunge of his fingers. Working you open, petting and stroking and you’re left trying to catch your breath, with the way he has you panting.

Something - his hand, you think - nudges at your fingers, then. Your release so close that you’re slow to move, a little cry that breaks on a moan as something warm flattens against your cunt.

A soft, wet drag. Your hand leaves the sheets to brace on the shoulder that nudge your thighs wider, opening you up to him.

As he eats you, pointed licks against your clit. Your hand curling around the spot where shoulder meets neck, feeling the low buzz of his moan.

Fingers curling in time with his tongue. With his lips, as he places a kiss between your thighs.

Ones that fall fully open, with the soft suck of his mouth. A heavy pressure in your belly, a tightening in your abdomen as you fight back the urge to grind yourself against his tongue.

Perhaps a month ago - before you knew about the curse, about him - you would have been content with this. The emptiness between your thighs, the searing pleasure.

Imaging, with the way your brain tends to spin tales, other illicit encounters. Playing on the way he moves so soundlessly. Sneaking up behind you to bend you willingly over the counter. Submitting to an invisible force, that could take you whenever he desires.

But, for a while now - your mind has changed. A brief fantasy, compared to your current desires.

More than ever you wish to see him. Each little expression, how you could see the burn that you can only wish matches your own.

Neat hair now tousled from your fingers, how his mouth would shine with you.

The way you could look into his eyes, so that you could tell him how much you want him.

Need him.

Not just here, but always.

You choke on his name. Butterflies in your stomach, that winding tightness feeling like it’s fraying - about to snap.

“God, just like that.” Your head tilts back against the pillows, stars glittering across the ceiling overhead, “Fuck, please don’t stop Alfred. I’m gonna-”

The rest is bitten off. The soft, echoing “oh” held - as your eyes open. As you look down, just as that pleasure starts to crest.

There’s a shimmer. Like gold caught in the sunlight, the twinkle of stars in the sky far outside the city limits. A deepening of shadows at the crux of your thighs, hinting at a form between them.

Twin grey-blue reflections caught in the light - sliding shut, just as you snap. The sight disappearing as your vision goes hazy. An ache of release as all that tightness within you ebbs, thudding with the flutter of your heart.

Bliss shudders through you, freeing your gasping cries. Fingers coaxing as you pulse around them, prolonging your pleasure with the soft press and swipe of his tongue.

It’s been ages since anyone but yourself has brought you to orgasm. You’ve forgotten what it’s like, to place yourself in the hands of another.

Even ones you can’t see.

Or, could you?

No. Surely nothing had changed, in the time between the hallway and now. You’ve spent weeks looking at him, and never once have you seen him like this.

You must be dreaming.

The thought settles over you, as you stare unseeing at the ceiling, still dazed. As a broad hand strokes your thigh, the stretch of the two fingers still buried in you.

Yes, that must be it. Trapped in a dream, while your mind tries to fill in the blanks, melding how you know him with the picture in your head. The soft suggestion of his face - the curve of his nose and his beard as a hand passes over his mouth.

Disappointment lances through you. But… if it’s not real, you’ll make the most of it. Allow you to experience this moment that may never come again.

Even in a dream, you want to give him everything.

“Come here.” Your voice is low, soft - as you roll to your side, after he eases from you. Patting the mattress where you just lay, letting your fingers trail and trace as he moves.

Waiting until his head indents the pillow before you swing your hips over his. His hands biting into your thighs as you straddle him, the wool of his pants soft against your bare skin.

It’s almost familiar, the way your hands slide up his chest. A much more pointed movement than your earlier explorations. Carefully finding the collar of his shirt. Dipping down to where his shirt splits, fingers tracing over skin and a coarse smattering of hair.

Tugging the buttons free, one by one.

Slowly opening him up, over a chest - muscle and flesh covering the racing of his heart. Down past his belly, just at your head dips.

Something like a sigh, hanging in the air, as your mouth follows. Pressing down against heated skin, as his own fingers pinch harder.

And there’s that shimmer again, as you scoot back. Illuminating the semblance of a face - panting, parted lips and a pinched brow. Settling yourself between strong thighs - fingers splaying across his abdomen while the other finds his hand.

“Can I touch you?”

It’s the second time you’ve asked. The first time through a hazy mind, not even sure what you were wanting. You have intent this time, as your fingers slip to wrap around his belt buckle, feeling the upward shift of his hips beneath you.

Yes.

The two squeezes come quickly from his entwined fingers, but with it comes something else. Another sigh of words, as if caught on a breeze in the still room.

Muted - as if said behind glass, a closed door.

“Yes, darling.”

It’s the dream, you think. Your mind unable to fully translate, caught between what you knew before and what you know now.

And still, it makes your heart ache. How pretty it sounds, those words. It has you tugging on the leather strap of his belt. Loosening, unbuttoning, hands eager to touch warm skin.

Alfred’s hips lift. The hand in yours grasping tighter when you try to slip yours away, and so you keep it there. Managing to tug the layers down with just one, sliding it over skin afterwards. Letting them drop down to the floor below.

You find him, wrapping your hand around. Hard and velvet soft beneath your palm, finger and thumb not quite meeting with the slow stroke of your hand.

He sighs - the sound rough, low. Thighs tense where they close around you, biting into where you kneel.

Lips brushing his stomach, the curve of his hip. Muscles tensing beneath your mouth, cock twitching in your careful grip.

You can’t help but smile. Pleased at how undone he’s become under your touch already. That desperate wish that this wasn’t so one-sided ebbing with the way the kiss in the doorway became so heated.

Emboldening you, even if this isn’t truly real.

“You’re beautiful,” You tell him, with another press of your lips. Looking up where you know he lies, watching. “I don’t need to see you to know that.”

Perhaps another work would have been better. Handsome, maybe. Or striking, but it doesn’t quite capture the puzzle you’ve fit together. The rough, muffled groan - how you’re sure you’ve rumpled that crisp white shirt, with how he lounges in your bed.

There’s an opalescent shine left behind when your tongue peeks out to lick a stripe up his cock. His hips do jerk then, fingers squeezing tightly.

Not a word, though. Not a “No” with his single grasp of his fingers. Just the still holding back of desire. Something you hope he will let go of, before you’re ripped awake.

And so, you taste him. Take him into your mouth, letting spit pool on your tongue as your lips open wider.

Bobbing your head, your hand following. Smearing spit across his skin, each jerk of your fist getting slicker.

Letting your fingers drift down until you can cup him, heavy in your hand. It’s then, with the soft suck of your mouth, that his fingers leave you.

Coming to stroke along your cheeks, where they hollow. A steady exhale of breath that quickens with the way your eyes roll shut, your tongue tracing along veins, trying to take him as deep as you can.

You were wet before, from the thought of him. From the orgasm he pulled from you - but the feel of him in your mouth sends another heady ache to rest between your thighs, slick as you press them together.

It’s when you’re almost gagging on his length that there’s a pressure, a sharp curse that is hissed through teeth as he grasps at you.

Easing you off, as you blink up at him. Waiting for him to guide you, eyes catching where the weight shifts on your bed. The shimmer of hands as they touch at your waist, guiding you to face the side of the bed.

Angling you towards the windows that run parallel. Your eyes meeting your own, in the ornate mirror that stands between them.

Not quite a straight-on angle, but it’s enough. A peek at your own heavy-lidded expression. His hips pressing to yours as he fits himself behind you, hand sliding across the curves of your hips.

Pulling you back, as he kneels. Inching your thighs wider, matching his. The hard curve of his cock nudging against the swell of your ass, as he shows you how beautiful he thinks you are.

With a hand that rises, across your belly, between your breasts. Up to your throat, where his hand spans - thumb and forefinger cradling the hinge of your jaw.

Keeping you facing forward, as his lips press against the back of your neck. His other hand drifting down, to dip between your thighs again.

“Oh, look at you.” It’s a rough sigh against your skin, as his fingers reach soaked flesh, “I’ve dreamed of this.”

A dream within a dream, you think dizzily - as he touches where you drip, where it clings to your thigh - before the fingertips catch and drag it over your center.

Down to where he’s already been, where you’re warm and wet and ready. The tease of two thick fingers before they’re coming back to circle your clit again.

You wonder if he had been watching, before. The way your own had pressed and circled, messy and eager. Learning what you like. Eyes finding your own again in that mirror.

Seeing only yourself, though you’ve slumped against him. You wonder what he sees now - never thinking to ask.

If he sees himself as solid as he feels against you, just invisible to the world. Or if he only sees the iridescent shape, the shine of his fingers in the dim, broken light.

Despite your wishes to see him, it is a sight. The pleasure that begins to build, though you seem untouched. Just the shallow grind of your hips into the air, in spite of the way he cradles you to him.

And the more you watch, it feels almost as if… as if that shadow becomes a little more solid. Bridging that liminal space between transparent and translucent.

It has your hand moving. Slipping between the curve at the small of your back. Catching where he’s hard against you, a wet smear left against your skin. All it takes is a shift of your hips to fit him beneath you, as you relax back against him.

Feeling where he juts out between your soft thighs, achingly stiff. An unconscious grind of his hips, that sends his cock gliding against your seam. Slicking up his shaft with you, as his fingers still press. That throb of pleasure slowly building with his touch.

“Christ, sweetheart-” Another soft, choked out sound. Again, no more than a whisper. Slipped out of lips unused to speaking out loud, but cannot help it.

“I need you.” Your voice is much louder, “It’s not enough, I need you inside me-”

Ready to lift, to press him into you if he’ll let you. It would be easy, with the way his hips already move, the shallow thrust that sends him skimming against swollen flesh.

He catches you as you rise - broad hands at your hips. This peek in the mirror only a brief interlude to where he really wants you, pressed into the mattress beneath him.

Much more familiar, hurried, with the way you fit together now. His fingers entwining again to answer with those squeezes, though he murmurs it as well.

“Yes,” He groans, with the rock of his hips. “Yes, my darling. I need you too, I wish I could tell you-”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer, that you can, when his hand slides from to wrap around his cock. Angling himself down to press against your opening.

He holds himself there, until you’re wiggling against him. A downward shift until the head is nudging inside you, until you’re already clenching in anticipation.

“Alfred,” You all but whine, “Fuck me, please, I want you to-”

Part of you is certain he’s confirming you want this, and you want to tell him he could do anything. That you’ll beg, if he wants. That you’ve been his, that you’ve needed him for ages.

Those sentiments choking you with the steady thrust of his hips, the rough sound in his throat. Your own moan high as your arms wrap around him, as he presses himself deep inside you.

Shallow rolls of his hips, easing himself out and then back in - your fingers biting into his shoulders as he seats himself fully, hips pressed flush with yours.

He fills you so perfectly. That dull, pleasurable ache of being stretched open, your legs opening wider so he can go just that much deeper.

Your eyes close as he begins to move, finding his jaw with your mouth. Kissing blindly across his cheek as you moan, until his own low grunts and gasps meet yours.

Murmuring another low curse against your mouth, as his hip saw. The rolling stroke bumping something inside you that makes your muscles tense, that warm heat to spread.

“S’good. Feels so good-” It’s a messy mumble, as you chase the pleasure that swells inside you.

Trying to cling to him as he slowly pulls back. Hands that ghost over the soft bounce of your breasts, past your hips. Tugging your thighs up over his, his fingers pressing into your skin as he finds that spot again.

Your eyes open, seeing the shadows cast as he curves over you. The downward tilt of his head, and again - you wonder.

If he can see the way he splits you open. The shine of your arousal on his cock with each snap of his hips, the way he has you clenching around him.

It has you reaching. Tracing over stomach and hips, the way he leans into your touch. His grip loosening so his hand can press over yours, molding to his form.

It’s been ages since he’s been known this way. Perhaps never quite like this. Opening himself up for examination. Pinned under your own gaze, dissected by your touch, after all those years alone.

You’re struck by him. The way he touches you so gently. How you’ve talked for so long translated so carefully here. Little squeezes and soothing strokes of his hand.

So much said silently.

It sends something flipping in your chest. An urge to never be parted, to stay just like this - with him, in this room, forever. Something you think just might be….

Might be-

Well, that sentiment is another thing to wrap up carefully, all neat folded corners and tied with a golden bow. Perhaps to be delivered tomorrow, something you can tell him yourself and not this dream-Alfred that’s been spun from your deepest desires.

A hope that you can say what been slowly blooming, swelling in your heart. That just maybe - he will write down the same sentiments for you.

Because surely, you’re not alone. Even if his feelings are half as real as this - with those soft words and even softer touches - it would be enough.

You’ll hold that back for now, but there’s others that manage to slip free from you, under his gaze.

“I want to stay,” You breathe, as his hips slow. As his fingers grip even tighter, “I want you. Just as you are.”

He folds, with your words. Strong back curving as his hips drop to press flush with yours - your own thighs wrapping around his waist.

Lips brushing your cheek to let you know he’s there, before they ghost against your mouth. So much said in the soft groan, the way his hand cradles your face.

“Oh darling,” You hear him say, in the moments your lips part, “My perfect girl. Anything you want, it’s yours. I’m yours-”

His confession makes you ache - it’s there in the roll of his hips, the way his other hand slips between you. Sliding over sweat-dewed skin to pet at you again, stroke between your thighs.

Sending you higher, twisting and curling. Until you’re panting against his mouth, until you’re swallowing his own sounds that slowly grow shorter, rougher. Louder.

His thrusts losing his careful, steady rhythm, fingers pressing just a little harder. Circling faster as your muscles start to tense, as your hips roll and grind as you meet him.

You can’t believe you’re so close again, your vision going soft and hazy.

And he’s there with you, a warning in the gentle taps against your arm. His voice rough in your ear, though he thinks you cannot hear him.

“Please gorgeous, I need you to come. Want to feel you on my cock, first-”

There’s the scrape of his beard against your cheek, the press of his mouth against your throat. Another wet press of his fingers and you’re there - clinging to him as your cunt clenches down around him.

Your moan high as you orgasm pulses through you, starting from where you grip his cock, slipping up your spine and tingling down your limbs.

He’s gone still, keeping you full with him. Keeping that weight inside as he helps you ride out the pleasure with his fingers, his touch almost sloppy with the way he staves off his own orgasm.

A soft cry from your throat when he pulls himself from you a moment later, lifting his hips just enough to twist his wrist. To wrap his fist around his cock, slick with your release. It’s only a few jerks before he’s spilling across your skin - the curve of your mound, against your belly.

Dripping down to sticky thighs, and when he’s worked himself empty, you can see the white streaks against your skin. As pretty and shining as he is in the silver streams of moonlight, and from this angle you feel like you can see the hand you’ve come to know so well. How it unfurls to stroke against your thigh.

As gentle as ever, contented in the lazy path his fingers take.

Leaving you cozy, when he tucks you against him. A cool cloth from the bathroom smoothed against your thighs, as he wipes himself carefully from your skin.

A soft plead mumbled against his neck, as your arms wrap around.

“Stay.”

You can hear the rumble of a soft hum of amusement, as if there was anywhere else he would wish to be.

Cheek pressing to your head, as you both get comfortable. It feels like a perfect fit, the way your body curves against his, the way his arm fits around you. Fingers finding yours to squeeze.

Yes.

But he says it too, in a voice so low you only just catch it.

“Of course, love. Always.”

There’s a golden glow, in the room. You think perhaps it’s dawn, come early. Warm and glittering as you curl in your bed, fingers tracing over bare skin.

Drifting in and out. Blissful in this soft embrace, as your mind slips from you, hazy in this soft afterglow. Leaving you to clutch at the thought that if it is a dream…

Then it’s a very good one.

And you desperately hope you’ll remember it.

The dull, repeated buzz pulls you from a deep sleep. You don't know the last time you've felt this content - curled on your side, loose-limbed and warm.

Fingers fumble beneath the pillow. Finding your phone beneath, as you peer at the message with bleary eyes.

Change of plans. Boarding flight now, be home tonight.

You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like.

The message makes you smile, wonder if Bruce as told Alfred yet. Thinking about how relieved and happy he will be, as you open a next text to send to him.

Did Bruce text you? It looks like your Christmas wish came true! 💕

You send it before you can overthink the heart you tacked on at the end.

Frowning then, as a matching buzz rattles against the wooden floor below.

A sleepy shift as you glance down, to see the bright edge of a screen. A sliver exposed from where it sits deep in a dark pocket, from a pair of trousers half-hidden under your bed.

Your frown deepens.

Eyes rising - seeing where the door stands open and silent. Still, as the sun weaves its way to spill in golden stripes against your floor.

It's then, that you feel the tension at your waist.

The press of something solid, as you had leaned, now pulling you back into the warmth of the bed. Too tired to notice how you were crowded closer to the edge, than your usual spot in the middle.

To notice that you're not alone.

Something warm and sturdy and strong behind you. The bristle of something coarse against your shoulder, as your blankets shift.

A low sound, a hum, as it moves - sliding from your hip, splaying under your chest with another backward tug. Holding you close.

An arm comes into view. A hand.

A proper, solid one.

Dimples of skin at strong knuckles, calloused fingertips dragging across your curves.

Those last dregs of sleepiness are snatched from you.

He makes a low sound as you push yourself upward, and turn. Not caring how the blanket pools around your waist now, the chilly air hitting bare skin.

Definitely not alone.

And you’re not afraid - not when your eyes drop down. Because you know this face, this steely gaze that is softened with sleep.

Hair that has long gone silver, tousled from the brush and grip your fingers.

Breathless at the two realizations that crash over you at the same time. Fighting each other in your mind, as his eyes crack open.

That the curse has been broken.

That it hadn’t been a dream.

His name is a broken sound, a pricking in the corners your eyes as your hands cradle his face. That contented look turning sharp - alert from your expression, as he pushes himself up on his elbows.

Reaching for you, that familiar space between your wrist and forearm. The words still sliding from him as they often did when you spoke - liking to imagine that you could hear them.

“What is it, darling?”

And it’s not the soft whisper from the night before. It’s a rough, sleepy sound. Beautifully low and rasping, and it only makes your heart lurch even more.

“I can-” You have to take a breath, to stop the tremble, “It’s broken, Alfred. You’re-”

And he seems to understand - an arm curling around your waist. Holding you against him as you yelp, as he pushes himself fully upward.

Putting you both in view of the mirror where he had held you, the night before. Where you both now gaze into the reflection, watching the way you curl around each other.

Beautifully ruffled and bare-skinned from your shared evening and contented sleep.

Watching his expression change - confusion, and wonder, and then - relief. Fingers stroking the grey of his beard, before his eyes are tearing away.

And to look at him fully, to have that gaze returned - it has your heart twisting tight, stomach tying into knots.

Your voice is soft, still trembling, “What broke it?”

His touch transfers to you, his hand coming to cup your cheek. Watching the way you lean into it, the concerned pull of your brow.

“You did, love.”

And how you wish it was true. That you had helped him, somehow. Like you had wanted to, so badly, for all these weeks now.

But instead, your head shakes, “But I don’t understand. What did you want?”

His smile is soft. Those stormy eyes clearing with a lifted weight, as he pulls you closer. Knuckles stroking across your cheek, affection woven into every facet of his touch.

It’s a look that you hope you’ll see every day, for the rest of your life.

“I wanted to be seen.”

"to be loved is to be seen."

and they lived happily ever after - the end! ✨ this has been so fun to write and such a comfort during this holiday time. thank you so much for reading this! it means so much 💖 and hope you all have a very happy holidays! 🎄

#this is the last part!#thank you so much to everyone who's read this #or left a nice note they made me so happy #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x f!reader #alfred pennyworth fan fic

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ugh-yoongi · 11 months ago

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across the btuniverse ⟡ a bts x beatles collab | the masterlist

welcome to across the btuniverse, a collab for which we got a little help from our friends. we've got nine delightful stories for you to sit back and enjoy. as there is no deadline for this collab, all fics will be posted as they're finished. we thank you for your patience, and we really hope you enjoy them!

isn’t this more beautiful? ● written by @effortandmore 🍓 pairing: namjoon x reader 🍓 genre: idolverse, smut, angst, vibes 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: you meet namjoon by accident. you fall for him without noticing. he slips in and out of your life at will, and you let him. but as you get closer, you start to wonder if he’ll always feel lonely, even with you by his side. or, a small story told out of order about time, loneliness, and knowing what we deserve. → based on: eleanor rigby | READ HERE

long, long, long ● written by @moni-logues 🍓 pairing: jin x f. reader 🍓 genre: soulmates au, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: a not-exactly-by-chance encounter gives you and jin a second chance to get it right. you don't. will jin give you a third? → based on: long, long, long | READ HERE

the secrets we keep ● written by @the-boy-meets-evil🍓 pairing: hoseok x reader 🍓 genre: musician (non-idol)!au, angst, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: hoseok finally gets to go on his first real tour. it's everything he's ever wanted, getting to share his music with his fans. before he leaves, he promises you that nothing changes. he'll call every night and text every morning. there's only one problem. he’s not really sure if he means it. → based on: all my loving

a guy with a sword is bad news ● written by @ugh-yoongi 🍓 pairing: jimin x reader 🍓 genre: non-idol, mysticism au; strangers to lovers; angst, fluff 🍓 rating: mature 🍓 summary: yoongi tries telling him the “medium” he finds is bullshit, but jimin’s… stubborn, to say the least. desperate to find meaning in anything when his life feels like it’s falling apart. he expects that the tarot readings might not come true; expects the horoscopes and chart readings and psychic visions might not either. but jimin underestimates the only part of this charade that’s real: you. → based on: blue jay way

subject to change ● written by @hot-soop🍓 pairing: taehyung x reader 🍓 genre: slice of life, non idol au 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: taehyung makes up stories. he borrows the lives of the people he encounters, the people on his street - he writes about how they move, and what they say, and how he imagines they might think, how they might love. he writes about you, too. → based on: penny lane

nyooom ● written by @biashub🍓 pairing: jungkook x reader 🍓 genre: smut, idol au 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: working as a valet for the most exclusive restaurant in town had its perks. one of those perks? you got to regularly drive jeon jungkook’s car. → based on: drive my car

love to love you ● written by @wonwussy🍓 pairing: jungkook x reader 🍓 genre: angst, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: he told you not to fall in love with him. you listened. however, he didn’t expect to break his own rule. → based on: if i fell

the fic info above is subject to change and belongs to its respective author.

#bts collab #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #collab: atbtu

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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year ago

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Dreamers

Lee Seokmin (DK) x fem!reader

Genre: mostly fluff, with a hint of anxiety

Word Count: 10.9k

Wanings: food mentions. adult language. a few parts may come off as suggestive, but not really. y/n is an environmentalist but not vegan.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Sleepwalking is a nasty issue. You find yourself in the correct building but wrong apartment, sharing a room with a ridiculously cute boy who seems to find it amusing.

Note: This one goes out to all of my ambitious girlies! Keep working towards your dreams!

The moment you stepped onto the evening bus you regretted the decision.

With a bright smile, Sunny greeted you, rushing to move her bags into her lap so you could take the seat next to her, all while never once taking her eyes off you. Her brows rose in a questioning manner. You cursed under your breath as your neighbour’s usual warm smile morphed into a look of disbelief when you sank into the seat next to her.

With a sigh, you raised a hand to silence her. “I know.”

But she didn’t take the hint. “When was the last time you slept? Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answer to?” you whined and hugged your bag close to your chest. “I’m sure you heard me showering at 3 am.”

“The bags under your eyes aren’t supposed to make it look like you have a black eye,” she told you as if she hadn’t heard you at all, still eyeing you in worry. “How much did you sleep? You look worse than Jeonghan when he thought I was mad at him.”

“Does it matter?” You huffed. “At least I’m getting some rest.”

“I think it only counts as rest if you actually get 8 hours of sleep every once in a while,” she countered with a snicker, “which, by the looks of it,” she gave you a once-over, followed by a disappointed a sigh, “you haven’t had in years.”

“I sleep just fine. I’m healthy, I am productive,” you defended and tightened your hold on your bag. “Sleep is for the weak anyway.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how you’re friends with me but not Jihoon. Your mentality is almost identical.”

“Listen, somebody has to do the work. And unlike some, I’d actually like my work to amount to something bigger than an average paycheck that barely covers my bills. I have ambitions. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Honey, at this rate you’re not gonna live long enough to see your ambitions come to life,” she grumbled under her breath and linked your arms. “It’s okay to rest every once in a while. Take a week off from work and actually just do something fun for a change.”

You grimaced. “I’d rather not. Messes with my groove.”

Sunny had no words left to say. She stared at you with a wide mouth for a moment before sputtering, “How– How are we friends?”

“Fate brought us together so you could nag me at all possible hours,” you joked, looking out the window now to avoid missing your stop. “But seriously, I don’t need to rest. I love my job and my colleagues and I’m making a change.”

“You should at least go to sleep early tonight.”

“Can’t. I have a big report due next week and I don’t want to miss my deadlines.”

Her gaze hardened immediately as she cursed, “Why, you little–”

“Hey!”

“I’m just worried about you,” she mumbled through a pout just as your bus arrived at your shared destination. With a begrudging sigh, she unlinked your arms and gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you stood up and walked over to the door “Well, I guess it’s your life. But I swear–” she pointed at your face, eyes squinted in a glare; she interrupted herself mid-sentence, “no, I vow that if you collapse under the stress, I’ll personally go and hand in a letter of resignation in your name.”

You scoffed at her empty promises, smiled, and stepped off the bus. You had no doubt you would be just fine and she was overreacting over nothing. She couldn’t wrap her mind around your work ethic and goals – she was built of an entirely different wood.

Then again, you couldn’t deny you often felt a little jealous of her. The nagging feeling hit once again when you looked up to find Jeonghan standing at the gate of your building, his smile widening the closer Sunny and you got to him. You envied that she had found – through trials and tribulations, you’d admit – a perfect man to brighten her days while you had no time to even contemplate romance.

“How was your day, my beautiful lady?” Jeonghan greeted your neighbour with a sweet kiss on her forehead before taking her bag and leading her inside with a hand on her back. He didn’t forget to offer you a welcoming smile and a friendly “good evening” as well, both of which you returned.

“Are you going to the 5th floor tonight?” you asked them as the three of you trudged up the stairs and they made no effort to walk to her apartment.

Sunny nodded. “It’s movie night and he has the bigger TV.”

Jeonghan let out a loud ‘ha!’ and grinned at her victoriously. “So you admit it. My TV’s better than yours!”

“That’s–” She sighed deeply. “That is not the point right now–”

“How is it not?”

Unable to continue watching their lovers’ quarrel, you hummed and waved them goodbye before promptly unlocking your apartment, walking in, and quickly locking it again as if their bickering or cheesy nicknames could otherwise follow after you.

You had far more important things to do, after all.

With a tired sigh, you warmed up some of last night’s leftovers and opened your laptop. The familiar Times New Roman font on your screen prompted a soft groan, but still you squared your shoulders and got to work.

If you were quick, you’d get this done way before the deadline. Maybe you could even go to work in the morning with a nearly finished report! You smiled at the thought.

But life doesn’t always go as expected.

You thought you were old enough to know this fact already. After all, when had life ever followed your expectations? It seemed to enjoy throwing curve balls right at your head.

You woke up with a splitting headache at 7 am, an hour before your usual alarm. It was strange – you concluded so as you stared at the time on your phone through a squint. With a soft huff, you let the phone drop back onto the mattress and your head onto the pillows.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you then heard a voice.

Your eyes snapped open. There was someone in your room.

The voice sounded apologetic as it continued in a whisper, “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make any noise. Sorry. Let me just get my shirt and–”

You sat up abruptly to stare at the intruder – a handsome familiar-looking man shuffled around the walk-in closet. Worst of all – he was shirtless. You dreaded to think of what had happened the night before.

“Who– Who are you?” you stuttered out, instinctively lifting the blanket higher against your torso despite the fact that you were fully clothed. “Why are you in my apart–”

Then it hit you. The worst of the worst realities.

“Holy shit, this isn’t my apartment!” you screamed and jumped out of bed to apologise profusely. “I’m so so sorry! I had no idea! I don’t how–”

“Hey, hey!” The man – now wearing a crispy white button-up shirt – walked out of the closet hurriedly, a worried smile on his face as he rushed to comfort you with a gentle hand on your back, leading you to sit back on the bed. “It’s okay.” He let out a laugh. “I was going to let you sleep for a while more. It’s okay.”

You had no clue how he could be so calm about this. What the hell happened last night?!

You stuttered. You sputtered. You gasped for air like a fish out of the water. You were on the verge of a panic attack at 7 am in the morning and he was smiling, all while patting and rubbing your back like it was the most natural thing.

“Why am I here?” you eventually managed to breathe out. You hated to admit that his calm and friendly nature was helping you adjust to the situation.

He raised a brow, his soothing movements stopping. “I was hoping you could answer that.”

When you made no move to do so and only offered him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “I woke up to someone trying to unlock my door at 2 am. Almost cried, actually, but then I heard a knock and Mingyu telling me to open the door, so I did and you…” He gestured widely to his room. “Well, you came in and went straight to bed as if it was your own home. I didn’t know what to do but Mingyu and I figured you needed to rest.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw. “You didn’t think to call the police?”

“Well,” he grimaced, “I was going to but you really looked like you needed to sleep.” He gave you a worried look, inspecting your face. “You still do, actually. Do you sleep at all, like, outside of my bed?”

“I sleep plenty,” you scoffed and got out of the bed, wiping your face with your sleeves as if to rid it of any evidence that might suggest otherwise. With an awkward look, you bowed and began heading out. “Well, thank you for… your hospitality. I’ll get going. I’m sorry for bothering you. This won’t happen again.”

Before he could say another word, you slammed the door shut behind you and began heading… where were you heading?

You looked around the hallway. It was still your building. You could recognise these hallways even in your sleep. A quick glance informed you that you had just stepped out of apartment 1D – the apartment directly below yours.

You groaned as the realisation sank in that you could never visit the first floor without feeling awkward again. With a sigh, you headed up the stairs to your own apartment.

“Isn’t that Seokmin’s apartment?” Sunny pointed out when you told her of your horrible adventure on the bus home from work later that day. She frowned a little as she tried to recall exactly who lived there.

“Whoever it was, at least it wasn’t Jihoon.” You shuttered to even think about it.

Sunny grimaced. “Yeah, I’d be bailing you both out of jail right about now.” She then shrugged. “Yeah, I think that’s Seokmin’s apartment. He really just let you stay the night there?”

“Apparently?” You wanted to laugh at the insanity of the situation. “I have no recollection of what happened or how I ended up there. The last thing I remember is working on my report in my kitchen and then waking up in a shirtless man’s apartment.”

“Shirt–” She almost broke her neck at the speed she turned her head to look at you with wide eyes. “He was shirtless when you woke up?!”

“He was getting dressed for work–”

“Well, is he hot?!”

You had never wanted to throw someone out of a moving vehicle so much before. “Is this what you’re focusing on right now? I’m going through a crisis here!”

“Yeah but–”

“You literally have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but–” She paused mid-excuse and nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Right. You have a point there.”

“How did I possibly end up in his apartment at night without remembering it?” you contemplated, leaning your head back against the seat. “I can’t think of a single explanation.”

“It is weird,” Sunny hummed in agreement as the bus rolled to your stop. The two of you got off.

“Where’s Jeonghan?” you wondered in surprise upon not seeing him all the way up to the second floor.

Sunny shrugged, still deep in thought about your predicament. “I don’t know. Probably causing trouble with Junhui again. Possibly getting on Joshua’s or Hyesoo’s nerves. Maybe he stole someone’s mail or took the hinges off someone’s door. Not my problem.”

You could only stare at her in absolute wonder. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s his own person.” She then clapped her hands together in revelation, stopping in her steps in the middle of the hallway. “Didn’t you say you used to sleep-walk as a kid? I swear you mentioned it over coffee once.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but it hasn’t happened in a literal decade.”

“Who’s to say it didn’t happen again last night?” she suggested with a shrug. “By the way, do you wanna come over for coffee and cake? Jeonghan bought one on sale because the expiration date is today, but it’s sort of giant.”

After contemplating for a moment (more of a debate really, won by the grumbling of your stomach), you agreed and followed her into her apartment.

As the two of you walked into the kitchen, she continued, “All I’m saying is that there’s a lot going on in your life right now and maybe it all worked together – the stress, the lack of sleep, you get the gist – and now you’re sleepwalking again.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” Jeonghan suggested. You jumped in your spot before finding him sitting at the dining table, fully focused on assembling a lego set. He continued without a care in the world, “Sleepwalking can be a serious issue.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

He finally glanced up to offer you an amused look and a chuckle. “I’m her boyfriend. Where else would I be?”

“I invited her over for coffee and cake,” Sunny informed him with a kiss on his cheek. “Play nice.”

“Yes, princess,” he spoke in reply before turning back to you. “But I would really go to the doctor if I was you. If it’s bad enough that you wake up in someone else’s apartment, it’s bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit.”

You felt yourself pale, your blood running both ice cold and lava hot. “How– Why do you know that?”

“It’s the talk of the town,” he joked before waving his joke off. “Just kidding. I met Seokmin on my way to the store earlier and he told me. He seemed worried about you.”

“So it is Seokmin!” Sunny cheered victoriously. “I knew it! I told you!”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

You sat down at the table and slumped in the chair. “But if I’m sleepwalking, why did I go to his apartment?”

“Isn’t it right below yours?” Jeonghan pointed out like it was obvious. “Asleep you probably thought you were going to your own apartment. You just mixed up the floors.”

“So,” you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose before meeting his eyes and maintaining eye contact, “what you’re suggesting is that I fell asleep–”

“Yes.”

“–in my apartment–”

“Mhm.”

“–then left my apartment for some reason–”

“That much seems obvious.”

“–and then went to Seokmin’s apartment–”

“For some reason, yes.”

“–one level below my own?”

Eyes widening, he hummed at the slight error in the logic. “You do have a point. Why would you leave your own apartment to go to your apartment?”

“My head hurts just listening to this,” Sunny informed the two of you while serving the cake. As a slice fell over on a plate she quickly assigned to Jeonghan, she suddenly suggested, “What if you thought you were going on a walk and then returned home?”

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he began recounting, “So, what you think happened is that she fell asleep–”

“I’m going to kick the both of you out if you start again,” his girlfriend declared all of a sudden, pointing a knife in his direction. “I’m serious.”

“It is a reasonable guess though,” you decided as Sunny placed a plate of cake in front of you. “I do love going on walks when I’m stressed.”

“Then–”

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. You watched in mild amusement as Sunny and Jeonghan silently argued over who should open the door and if they should open the door at all. Eventually, to your surprise, Jeonghan relented and got up with a slight groan. The moment he was out of the kitchen, Sunny stole his seat across from you.

“I think the worst part is that I don’t know how to face him again, like ever,” you started the conversation again while taking a bite of the cake. “It was so awkward.”

“Speaking of awkward,” Jeonghan announced and led the newest guest into the apartment. The now familiar feeling of both ice and lava in your veins made a new appearance as you recognised the visitor. Your spoon dropped back on the table.

Seokmin offered you a friendly smile and a wave. “Ah, so that’s where you are. I tried your door but no one answered so I wondered if I had the wrong place.”

“You–” That was the only syllable you managed to voice. Your brain was scattered, filled with pictures of the awkward morning as well as a single fluttering butterfly carrying an obnoxious sign that said ‘he cares’. You gulped.

Thankfully, Sunny stepped in. She smiled brightly and ushered Seokmin to take a seat while she found an extra plate.

“I wasn’t going to come and bother anyone–” he tried to reject the offer of cake, but failed to. He was too friendly for his own good – just like the rumours around the building often said. He sat in the seat Sunny had preoccupied just seconds ago, right across from you, and smiled at her. “Well, if you insist.”

“What can I do?” Jeonghan sighed and theatrically looked away as he started his monologue. “Everyone loves my girlfriend so much. How can I possibly keep her–”

“Stop being melodramatic and come eat, idiot,” Sunny laughed and took the seat next to you. “So, Seokmin, what brings you to my friend over here?”

Seokmin opened his mouth to reply before turning to you and softly asking, “Is it okay to talk about it here?”

Sunny chuckled. “About her waking up in your apartment? Go ahead. I think everyone in the building knows already.”

“Oh.” He offered you an awkward-looking smile. “Well, sorry about that. I only mentioned it to Mingyu and Jeonghan but I guess– Nevermind. I just wanted to tell you to not worry about it.” His smile brightened, genuine and full of warmth all of a sudden. “We all have rough days – and rough nights – and I’m just glad you got some rest.”

“I have one question,” Jeonghan raised his arm before asking, “where did you sleep?”

“Me?” Seokmin shrugged. “The sofa. There was a woman in my bed.”

You somehow felt both worse and better than before. At least you knew he didn’t hold a grudge – after all, he seeked you out just to tell you it had been fine – but at the same time: you made this poor man sleep on the sofa instead of his objectively comfortable bed.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I said it’s fine,” he laughed and reached out to pat your hand. “I really don’t mind. You looked like you were sleeping very well. But–” he tilted his head in thought, a slight frown appearing, “–is it possible you were sleepwalking? You didn’t react at all last night, to anything. You just… brushed past us like we weren’t even there. I don’t know if you even had your eyes open.”

Sunny all but slammed her spoon on the table to give you a haughty look. “Yep. Told you. You were sleepwalking.”

You frowned. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Should I…” Seokmin scrunched up his nose in thought. “Should I maybe keep a look out in case this happens again?”

Immediately you shook your head. “No. No need. It was a one-time thing. A fluke. It was nothing. Won’t happen again.” In your attempts to not look at him, you happened to eye the clock. Your jaw dropped. “Oh. I should go home. I have–”

“–a report due in a week and deadlines to meet,” Sunny finished for you with a laugh. “I know, I know. Go.”

Jeonghan spoke up as well, “Take the plate and another slice of cake before you go. I want to know you eat at least a little between your work.”

You did as you were told and made your escape without another word, not even a goodbye to Seokmin.

You had no time to feel guilty or consider that your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him coming to find you. Once again, you buried your feelings into lines of Times New Roman in your report.

“Oh, you come here too?” you heard his voice just two days later at the grocery store.

It was a little surprising to find him there: the store was a good mile further from the one closest to your building. Like a startled owl, you stared and blinked at him in the cereal aisle.

As you opened your mouth to respond, he chuckled and looked away at the cereals. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk to me. I just needed to get some Fruit Loops and figured I might as well say hi.” He placed the cereal in question into his basket and offered you one more friendly smile and a playful wave. “So, hi!”

“Hi,” you managed to drag out as you lifted your hand in a wave.

With a chuckle, he turned and headed away to the next aisle. You thought you were free from him for the day.

But alas: you found him again when you went to get eggs. He seemed to be contemplating between two brands. You tried your best to go unnoticed as you searched for your favourite local free range brand. To you dismay, he stood right in front of the eggs you seeked.

“Excuse me,” you started and tapped his shoulder when he didn’t seem to notice.

He smiled upon recognising you. “Yeah?”

“Could you move? I want those eggs.”

“The expensive ones?” He raised an eyebrow and handed you a carton. “They’re almost triple the price of the store brand.”

“But they’re free range and locally sourced. You should try them,” you explained with the slightest bit of enthusiasm before placing eggs into your cart and walking away in the direction you thought him least likely to follow.

You truly thought you were free of him when you went to the checkout, but once again, as if tasked by god himself to be wherever you went, Seokmin was in front of you in queue, meticulously placing his items on the counter. As he turned to put away his basket, his eyes found yours and a bright smile appeared on his face. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“It’s me again,” you replied with an awkward laugh.

“Are you leaving too?” he wondered while fishing his bag for his wallet. When you nodded, his eyes lit up. “Do you need a ride home?”

Your eyes widened. “A ride?”

Why was he offering you a ride home? Why was he so friendly with you at all? You had broken into his apartment – in the eyes of the legal system anyway – and he was smiling at you like you were a beloved friend.

“Of course. We should stick together, no? We’re neighbours, after all– Hold on,” he interrupted himself to respond to the cashier, “Yes, by card please.Thank you.”

“You might have to wait a moment then,” you finally relented when he turned to you once again, eyes resembling a puppy. His smile widened at your words and he nodded.

The ride home was short and awkward. You greatly feared he would try to retaliate for the emotional damage you might’ve caused by sleeping in his apartment. To your relief, he did not such thing and only continued cheerfully chattering.

“–but I feel like a dog would be too much work, you know? I love dogs but I don’t have that kind of time.” He offered you a glance. “Do you have any pets?”

You scrunched up your face in thought as the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot of the building. “I have a cactus.”

“... Does it have a name?”

Eager to not disappoint, you blurted out the first name that came to mind: “Bertha.” You shut your eyes in shame.

But as the two of you got out of his small red car, he laughed. “Bertha? Sounds lovely. Is she high-maintenance?”

“Very.”

“Yeah?”

You decided you liked his laughter and the bright smile that came with. “Easier than a dog though.”

He laughed louder at that and handed you your grocery bags. “I bet. Maybe I should get a cactus too.”

“I highly recommend,” you chuckled, finding his laughter contagious. “It’s very fulfilling to watch it do absolutely nothing all-year-round.”

When the two of you got into the hallway, he paused in front of the staircase. As you were about to ask him about it, he asked, “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, I’m–”

“They look heavy.” He frowned before holding up a single finger, jogging over to his door, dropping his singular bag in front of it, and running back to you. Before you could formally protest, he grabbed the bags from your hands and began the journey up the stairs. When you froze in your spot, he turned to ask, “Well, aren’t you coming? Or were you going to sleep at mine again?”

Your face burned at the teasing comment. You decided following after him was the lesser evil.

“There we go,” he cheered when the two of you reached your door. He rubbed his hands against his thighs a few times, awkwardly like a schoolboy, before smiling and waving goodbye. “I guess this is goodbye for the day. It was nice talking to you.”

You didn’t manage to even thank him before he was already halfway down the stairs. Maybe you made him as nervous as you made him. As you went to sleep that night, you replayed the interaction over and over again in your head, failing to hide a smile at the memory.

The valley of the mattress had a hold over you. You had never been so comfortable waking up – well, with the exception of maybe once or twice.

The pillows were the perfect temperature, the blanket hugged you just right, the big teddy bear you hugged to your chest smelled fresh out of the washing machine–

“Since when do I have a teddy bear?” you grumbled in confusion and pried your eyes open. You felt all blood rush away from your face as you looked at the bear – light brown with a baby blue bow, its eyes shining up at you.

You had never even seen this bear before.

Cursing under your breath, you glanced around the room. You were back in your very own personal hell full of flowing beige curtains, white unfamiliar sheets, and teddy bears: the hell known as Seokmin’s apartment.

The realisation brought tears of frustration to your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them loose. It was barely 8 am but you were already on the verge of crying – what a joke.

Wiping your eyes, you all but slammed the bear down on the bed (you’ll never admit you did feel a little bad about it seconds later and gave it a little pat on the head) and stood up. You stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

As you reached for the doorknob – the final obstacle on your journey out of hell –, you heard his voice, sweet as honey like always, “Oh, you’re not going to stay for breakfast?”

You froze.

“I made extra waffles and all,” he added, sounding a little dejected. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so you sighed softly and turned around to give him a tight-lipped not-quite-genuine smile. His own grin brightened at the sight. “Is that a yes? You’ll stay?”

“Only for the waffles,” you lied and took a seat at his table.

He laughed and placed a plate of fresh food in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “Not because you don’t want me to feel bad?”

“No,” you grabbed a fork and began filling it with food, “I just don’t like food waste.”

“Oh, right! Minghao said you work for an environmental company. That sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” You swallowed your food. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

He cleared his throat as though the question had caught him by surprise and he was too shy to say. After a moment of silence, he bashfully admitted, “I’m a music teacher at primary school.”

You blinked in surprise. “A music teacher?”

“Well, I wanted to be a singer– a musical actor, actually,” he explained, his voice fluctuating in volume and his ears bright red, “but I’m a little too shy to audition. So I just stuck with teaching others to sing.”

“That’s so cool though,” you told him with a smile. “Are you good at singing?”

His ears seemed to turn an even deeper red. “My friends think so but I don’t know. I think there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

“Then why not audition? You only live once.”

He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden, watching your increasingly awkward self. You were just about ready to apologise for your possibly intrusive question when he softly asked, “Why not rest and live a little? You only live once, right?”

The question felt awfully pointed and you didn’t fail to let him know with a glare.

“I’m serious,” he declared, his lips pouting a little as if he was actually upset at your lack of self-care. “Whenever I see you, you’re always rushing somewhere. The only person you seem to be friends with is Sunny, and maybe Jeonghan by association.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m also friends with Minghao–”

“He barely even leaves his apartment. He doesn’t count.”

“He counts!”

“Do I count?”

“Of course you–” Your eyes widened as did his smile.

“We’re friends now!” he declared while pointing an accusatory finger at you, his voice raising in excitement. You began to protest but he was having none of it. “No take-backs! We’re friends – you just said so!”

“I didn’t actually–”

“Nope. No. We’re friends.” He narrowed his eyes at you, his smile never fading. “Or do you just sleep in random guys’ beds?”

You wanted to protest, you really did, but there’s only so much you can say to defend yourself against such accusations. Besides, his bright smile at your defeated nod could’ve won awards.

Accidentally waking in his apartment didn’t end. No. In fact, it somehow got worse.

Once every week quickly turned into once every few days. You were tempted to start keeping track of how often you woke up in your own bed but one could assume the numbers wouldn’t be too impressive.

You grew accustomed to the smell of his detergent and the smell of breakfast in the mornings. Was this what it might’ve been like to be in a relationship?

“How come you’ve never dated anyone?” he wondered once over breakfast.

You shrugged. “I don’t have the time.”

“Too busy saving the world?” he teased like he often did. Over time you stopped finding it annoying (perhaps because he sounded almost genuinely proud of you every time he said it).

“I assume you don’t get a lot of dates either,” you bit right back between bites of pancakes.

He seemed to be taken aback by your observation. “What makes you think that?”

“You sleep with a teddy bear, Seokmin,” you deadpanned.

He pouted. “Fluffy is a premium sleep companion.”

You laughed. “Is he?”

“You steal him every other night!” he accused with a chuckle. “I’m sure you know how great he is by now.”

“He’s truly a– What did you say? A premium sleep companion?”

“That’s what the label said when I got him.”

“Maybe I should invest in a bear too,” you wondered thoughtfully between bites.

Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

“No ti–”

“If you make the ‘no time’ excuse again, I will scream,” he said with in utmost seriousness. You promptly shut up: Seokmin’s lung capacity was well-known by everyone in the building.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “You know, if it’s physical contact that you need to sleep– Nevermind. How are the pancakes?”

Whether it was to save your or his dignity, you chose to ignore his first comment and answered only the last question, “Their colour is nicer than usual. I like the golden colour.”

“I guess the free range eggs really do make a difference,” Seokmin mused with a chuckle. When you offered him a surprised look, he hummed in confusion. “What?”

“You bought free range eggs? Didn’t you say they were too expensive last time?”

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well try to make some more ethical choices while shopping. Besides, you recommended them–”

Your eyes welled up a little. “You bought more expensive eggs because I recommended them?”

“And because I care for animals,” he added in a little too fast.

You laughed and nodded. “For the animals, right. Me too.”

“Do you ever rest from your work?” he wondered after a moment. “What do you do outside of it?”

“I… don’t know. I read. I like to clean.”

“But what about going to festivals? Swimming? Cycling? Dancing?” He grew more and more desperate as you rejected every hobby he offered. “No wonder you’re so tired all of the time! You’re a workaholic.”

You snorted. “Sunny did say I’m similar to Jihoon.”

“I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“I think he’s worse though.”

“Oh, definitely, but he doesn’t go to sleep in his neighbours’ beds,” Seokmin pointed out with a look of worry. As he watched you for an exactly uncomfortable amount of time, his eyes eventually lit up again. “I have an idea. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“Working–”

“I swear if I hear that word one more time, I will scream.”

You, once again, promptly shut up.

“Great,” he beamed and clapped his hands together, “I’ll text you to details later.”

“You’re not even going to tell me what we’re doing?”

You sighed in disappointment as he smiled brightly and shook his head ‘no’.

A knock on your door notified you of his arrival. Despite being sure it wasn’t meant to be a date and knowing that Seokmin had seen you in far worse condition, you still took a deep breath and gave yourself a quick once-over at the mirror.

When you opened the door, he smiled at you brightly. “I see you’ve dressed up too.”

“I would hardly call this dressed up,” you told him rather sheepishly, suddenly even more aware of you appearance. “You look very dapper as well.”

“Yep, and do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

His smile widened so much you worried for his cheeks. “Because you and I are going to the theatre.”

“The theatre?” You paled at the mention and looked down at your outfit. “I feel like I’m underdressed then.”

“You look fine,” he laughed and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late. And trust me,” he widened his eyes for dramatic effect, “you don’t want to be late.”

You gave in begrudgingly and locked the door as fast as you could while he practically bounced at your side in excitement.

“What are we going to watch then?” you finally remembered to ask when you entered the theatre less than 15 minutes later. “I swear, if you dragged me here to watch an opera–”

“It’s a musical, actually,” he admitted bashfully. “I love musicals and I don’t know much about other theatre performances so I thought– But if you don’t like musicals, that’s–”

“I don’t mind musicals,” you told him with a little laugh and pat on his shoulder. “But I have to admit, it has been ages since my last time at the theatre, and I haven’t seen a musical in a few years at least.”

“That’s fine. I’ll guide you through it.” And as if the last shy bone had left his body, he grabbed your hand and led you to your seats, all the while widely smiling at you and giving your hand periodical squeezes of encouragement.

His hand never left yours for the duration of the musical, not even for intermission, not even when he ordered cake from the theatre café to hold you over until after the show. His hand remained warm in yours, fingers squeezing a little tighter every once in a while, his thumb running over the back of your hand.

It was so warm, so comforting. Just his presence alone was enough to make you dizzy with the feeling of safety and happiness. His touch? You were floating on cloud 9 with zero regard for what was going on below – or on the stage, for that matter.

Frankly, you could barely remember to watch the musical because you were so busy marvelling at the feel of his hand in yours.

“That was so good,” he excitedly told you as the two of you returned to your apartment. “The music was phenomenal.”

“The actors were very good.” And that was the only contribution you could make to the conversation because you definitely hadn’t paid any attention to the plot and your knowledge of music was simply not there.

But thankfully, that seemed to be far more than enough. His eyes gleamed as he sat onto your sofa and gestured widely while speaking, “Right? The leading woman was just– Incredible, fantastic. Her range! I’m a little jealous, actually.”

You took the seat next to him. To your surprise, his hand found yours once again, wasting no time in interlocking your fingers. And just like that, paying attention to anything else became difficult.

Were you really developing a crush on him? Just like that? You refused. You were too busy to be pining after a man.

But when slid closer to your side and looked at you like you were the most wonderful person to ever exist, you suddenly didn’t care about the lack of time. Screw it. You’d make time if it meant you got to see his star-filled eyes again.

“... Sorry, what?” you coughed out when he paused and looked at you expectantly.

He laughed. “You’re so cute. I asked if you wanted to go see another musical with me someday.”

“I’d love to,” you blurted out without thinking.

Yeah. Screw deadlines.

“Okay, perfect!” His smile brightened up the entire room as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Because I heard they’re doing Excalibur next season and I desperately need a friend to go watch it with me. I saw the premise and heard a preview of one of the songs and they’re holding auditions next month and I am already obsessed–”

Your brain was barely functioning at all, and yet you could recall one single memory from the depths of it. A dream he had shared. “Then why don’t you audition?”

He sat up abruptly, looking at you as if you were insane. “I couldn’t possibly–”

“Why not?” you asked. “I heard you singing the other day. You’re really good. I think you could get any part pretty easily.”

His ears turned more red with every word you said. “You flatter me…”

“I’m serious, Seokmin!”

“I’m not that good. And I have zero acting experience, aside from a few courses I did in college. Why would they ever pick me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” you countered and he scoffed.

“I can think of a few–”

“You never know if you don’t try,” you told him and raised your hand to brush a stray hair off his forehead. “I’m rooting for you.”

As your words faded into the night and your eyes met, you wondered if he could feel the sparks flying and bursting all around you as well. Did he also feel that overwhelming adoration for you?

He sighed after a while, a bashful smile on his face. “You must be tired. It’s been a long night. Go to sleep.”

“I really should,” you yawned as if on cue. You shared a laugh at the timing.

He squeezed your hand one last time. “Well, good night then. I expect I’ll find you at my apartment in the morning–”

“Or you could stay here and we don’t have to worry about that,” you blurted without thinking. Your face flashed hot right after.

Had there been any alcohol in that cake he bought for you? Why were you feeling so bold all of a sudden?

“I–” He seemed speechless.

“I don’t know why I said that,” you rushed out and avoided his eyes. “I think I’m just really tired and work has been stressful and maybe my brain is just broke–”

He placed his hand behind your neck and led your head to rest against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You could hear his body rumble with laughter as he held you. “I’d love to stay over. Besides,” he pushed you away just enough to look you in the eyes again, “I think it’s only fair that I get to sleep over this once, because you sleep over at my place a lot.”

You frowned and pouted. “It’s not like I mean to–”

“A lot,” he repeated with wide eyes and a teasing smile before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

When you recounted the half-embarrassing and yet half-lovestruck happenings of the previous night to Sunny on the way back from work, she stared at you in bafflement.

“You actually asked him to sleep over?” she gasped, hand over her heart as if she was a peasant woman of the 16th century hearing the most scandalous gossip. “You little vixen!”

“Nothing happened,” you insistently told her as the two of you stepped off the bus.

She huffed. “That’s honestly so boring. I mean, have you seen that man? What I wouldn’t give to–”

“I am once again reminding you that you already have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t know what we’re into in the bedroom,” she countered with a smirk.

You only now realised how much Jeonghan was rubbing off on her. She was becoming a second him, slowly but surely. Couple of the year.

“I’m taking away your friend privileges, Sunny,” you told her at that and rushed ahead to avoid hearing any more weirdly Jeonghan-like jokes from her.

She laughed at that before running after you. “Okay, okay, no more dirty jokes.”

“Thank god,” you sighed towards the sky.

“So, did any sleepwalking occur?” she then asked before humming in thought. “Well, I imagine if it had, I would’ve heard about it by now. It would’ve been quite a sight to see Seokmin running after an asleep you towards his apartment at 2 am.”

“I didn’t sleepwalk.”

And frankly, if you had, Seokmin must have done a very good job of getting you back to your own bed because you woke up exactly how and where you fell asleep – wrapped in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck.

Sunny suddenly stopped in spot. Her eyes wide, her lips parted. She pointed an accusatory finger at you, “Wait, does that mean you two are dating now?”

You weren’t sure you had the answer. And you wouldn’t have time to find the answer for a while.

“Good morning!” you heard Seokmin’s voice before you even opened your eyes.

Unlike the previous few times, disappointment filled you as realisation hit. You groaned and turned over to bury your face in his numerous pillows, hoping you could suffocate yourself out of a mildly infuriating nightmare.

Seokmin clicked his tongue. “Not quite the greeting I was expecting, especially considering I was greeted with a hug the last time we shared a bed.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh, you’re mean today.”

“Did I fall asleep mid-work again?” you sighed and slowly sat up to glare at nothing in particular. Seokmin went to great lengths to avoid whatever direction to directed your deadly look to. “God, I bet I didn’t even make it to the second graph– I’m not gonna have time to go to the office for work today.”

He stared at you curiously. “So, work from home? I mean, if you have the possibility.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll get distracted and then I still won’t end up doing anything,” you whined before falling back into the pillows. You wanted to cry just at the thought of that stupid report waiting on your idle laptop.

“Why are you so stressed about this report anyway? I don’t think you were ever this upset over any other reports.”

“If this project report goes through, and we pull off this project – which I still have to plan, oh my god, I am so far behind–”

Seokmin laughed at your frantic movements and moved over to place his hands on your shoulders and keep you still. “Hey, hey, don’t get distracted. If the project goes through…?”

You took a deep breath. “If the project goes well, I will get a promotion. Less hours, better pay.” You sighed. “Then maybe I’ll be able to get a dog like I’ve always wanted.”

“That sounds wonderful! We should celebrate with breakfast,” he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

But as tempting as it sounded, you simply didn’t have any time to chat. You had work to do. And so, you stood up, fixed your hair, gave Seokmin an affectionate yet half-hearted pat on the back and headed for the door.

You couldn’t wait to spend your day in complete lonely misery. At work you at least had friends to talk between sections. All you had in your apartment was Bertha and instant coffee.

And it was as if Seokmin knew it just from the way you spoke to him that morning.

When the clock struck twelve, you heard a timid knock on your door. Confused at the noise and a little disoriented from the five pages of words you had written, you stood up and went to the door.

Your heart grew three sizes when you saw him standing there, looking so awfully huggable in his large white hoodie and grey sweatpants, glasses on his nose accompanied by a kind smile. You were so surprised to find him there that you failed to consider why he came.

He had to nudge you with the plastic bag he was holding for you to even notice it.

“Sorry,” you stammered and stepped aside to let him in, “I’m just a little-”

“Stress? Overworked? Confused because you’ve been staring at a 15-inch screen for the past three hours?” he suggested and brought the bag to the kitchen. “That’s okay. Don’t even mind me.” He smiled as he nodded towards your laptop. “Go on. Work waits. The sooner you get to it, the sooner it’ll be done.”

Disoriented as you were, you didn’t dare argue and slowly walked back to your previous seat at the coffee table, all the while watching him cautiously.

As your fingers landed on the keyboard, he began lifting things out of the bag. You watched in awe as he stacked snacks and vegetables onto the counter.

Feeling your eyes on him, he lifted his head to glare at you. “Work.”

“Work,” you repeated on instinct and turned back to your laptop. He laughed a little at your robotic tone.

Some 20 minutes later, you felt a presence next to you. When you turned to face it, Seokmin was holding an fruit slice up at your lips.

“Eat,” he told you softly. You did as told.

“What are you doing?” you asked between confused laughter and chewing. Your eyes landed on the bowl of fruits he had placed in front of you.

He shrugged. “Taking care of you. You seemed so upset this morning… I thought it would be nice to spend my free day helping you.”

Your eyes widened. “It’s your free day? And you’re here? You should be resting!”

“Watching you is all the rest I need,” he winked playfully before lifting another fruit to your lips. “Now, eat up. This is lunch. I’ll make something better for dinner.”

“You don’t have to–”

He took this chance to shove a piece of apple into your mouth, effectively interrupting your speech. “I will, and I don’t care what you say.”

He glanced around the apartment as you began to eat the fruits on your own. “When was the last time you opened a window?”

You watched curiously as he stood up (with a groan because his bones simply weren’t as nimble as they used to be) and headed over to the windows, opening a few to air out the room. As he did so, he told you, “They say that good airflow and fresh air help the thought process. We air out the classrooms between every lesson so the next students won’t get too tired.”

“I don’t think I’ve opened any windows in here since I first moved in,” you confessed before turning back to your laptop. Before you could your train of thought again, a soft fabric was placed on your shoulders. You looked up to find him smiling at you brightly. “So you won’t get cold.”

“What about you then?”

He shrugged and winked. “I’ll just consider this my daily walk in the park.” He then looked around the apartment again, as if looking for something to do. You couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Maybe… you could… make me a cup of tea?” you suggested.

He lit up at the idea. “Coming right up!”

Before heading to the kitchen, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. It seemed almost like a reflex – like he didn’t even need to think about doing it.

Relishing in the leftover warmth of his lips and the feel of his hoodie on your skin, your work took a backseat for a while. Instead of thinking about your project of a lifetime, your brain was drowning in one singular question. You glanced towards the kitchen to watch him, a smile appearing on your face as you did.

“Seokmin?” you called out softly after a moment.

He hummed in response immediately, eyes lifting from the cup he was preparing so he could offer you an encouraging smile.

You took a deep breath. “What are we?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“You and I. What are we to each other?” you wondered, unable to look away from him. There was something you badly wanted to hear him say and yet feared at the same time. “What are you to me?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I… I’ll be whatever you’d like me to be.”

“Whatever? A friend?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he breathed out, a little shakier than before.

“What about a lover?”

He smiled. “If you so wish.”

“Then… what do you want me to be?” you asked him quietly, a part of you praying your words would go missing in the incoming wind before they reached him.

“I just…” He bit his lip in contemplation, ears turning red, and avoided your eyes.

“What do you want me to be to you, Seokmin?” you repeated your question, a little bolder this time, hope sparking in your heart.

He looked up again, into your eyes. “Mine.” You let out a breath – of relief or fear, you weren’t sure – but he didn’t hesitate when he repeated, “I want you to be mine.”

You felt guilty for the words you’d utter next. “But we don’t have the time for that…”

“That’s okay,” he assured you with a kind smile. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Slow? How slow do we take it?”

“As slow as you need. I’m not leaving.”

“I signed up for the auditions,” he told you over breakfast a few days later. “Jihoon’s helping me prepare.”

You were still neck-deep in your project, struggling to meet the deadlines and coordinate your team. This seemed to lead the asleep you to Seokmin’s apartment more often than not. It was almost like you woke up in his bed every morning now.

But even in your despair, you couldn’t help but be excited for Seokmin.

Your eyes lit up and a squeal came out as you grabbed his hand over the table. “Really? You did?!”

He used his free hand to rub the back of his neck bashfully. “Well, you said I should give it a try, right? Who knows,” he shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant or even fake a little bit of confidence, “maybe they’ll give me a part.”

“I’m sure they will,” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “Your voice is amazing and you’re so handsome – the ladies are going to swoon when they see you on the stage.”

He laughed. “Will you be one of those ladies?”

“I’ll be in the front row,” you solemnly promised. “At every show. You’ll get sick of seeing me.”

“I could never,” he assured you.

Seokmin’s audition would take place two weeks later. You made sure the mark the day with a big red circle on your calendar – on all three of them, in fact. And now it was time.

Between your seemingly endless stream of project complications and Seokmin’s daytime job and audition preparations, you barely saw him. If it weren’t for your persistent sleepwalking problem, you wouldn’t have seen him at all. And so, the curse had became a blessing.

“You’ll do great,” you assured him minutes after waking up in his bed. You made sure to give him the warmest hug before letting him leave the room. “I believe in you. And so does Jihoon, apparently.”

Seokmin pouted. “Did he say that or are you lying to make me feel better?”

“We talked yesterday,” you told him, appalled that he’d even accuse you of such atrocities. “He said he has complete faith that you’ll do well.”

“I don’t believe you but–”

“Do you want to fight me? Already?” You raised a brow and he shook his head immediately. “Exactly. Just accept the compliment. And don’t forget to call me when you finish, okay?”

“Of course,” he promised.

He kept that promise. Just as he stepped out of the theatre, his shaky hands picked up the phone and chose your number.

You answered the call with prep in your voice. It had been a good day so far and you were expecting to hear his no-doubt joyous retellings of the audition.

What you weren’t expecting was: “Can you come get me? I think I might cry.”

“Why, why?” Despite your words, you didn’t hesitate to slam your laptop closed and grab your jacket. “Are you okay? Were they mean?”

“They weren’t mean,” he mumbled on the other side of the line, “but I don’t think I did well.”

“I’m sure you did wonderful,” you spoke while rushing down the street. Thankfully, the theatre was barely a five-minute walk from your office – half that at your current pace. “You’re just putting yourself down over nothing.”

Seokmin whined. “You’re seriously overestimating me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. You overestimate me.”

As you crossed the street, you noticed a familiar figure dragging his feet along the pavement, head low and shoulders slumped. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because you like me a little more than you should,” he suggested while kicking a pebble. You could already hear his voice even without the phone. “I’m sure the directors think I’m a joke or something. God, I am so–”

“Don’t you dare say another bad word about yourself,” you scolded him with a gentle slap against the back of his head.

He stared at you in bewilderment – both from the fact that you might as well have appeared from thin air and the fact that you just did that.

But you were unrelenting in your affection for him. “Lee Seokmin, listen to me: you did absolutely great. You did your best. And even if you don’t get a part this time, they’ll value the fact that you now have experience with auditions. Take it in stride.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. Before long, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you impossibly tight. “You’re just saying that… Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, silly,” you laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. “I think we should celebrate this occasion.”

“Even if I screwed up and don’t get the part?”

You scoffed. “Absolutely! A little cake can make everything better, no?”

He sighed. “I don’t think I can eat right now. I might throw up from the nerves.”

“Drink then?”

He contemplated and then straightened up. “I could go for some bubble tea…”

“There we go!” you cheered and gently pinched his cheeks, prompting a small giggle. “My treat because you did so well today and I’m so proud of you.”

This time it was you who grabbed his hand without any hesitation, more than happy to reassuringly squeeze it as you walked and talked.

“When will you get the answer?” you wondered.

He sucked in a breath. “In about a week, they said. Or maybe never–”

“Seokmin,” you scolded.

“In a week,” he corrected himself with some enthusiasm. “I’ll get answers in a week. And then I might actually cry.”

“And I’ll be there when you cry tears of joy, darling.”

“Tears of joy?” He raised a brow and smiled in disbelief. “You seriously put too much faith in me.”

You nudged his side. “As if you haven’t been equally supportive about my promotion.”

“Oh, right,” Seokmin gasped, “won’t your promotion interview be in a week too?”

You would’ve preferred he didn’t remind you. Then again, you guessed it was only fair.

“Will you come over to hold me when I cry too?”

“Tears of joy?” he teased and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I’ll be just a call away.”

The week somehow passed at both the pace of a snail and the pace of Junhui on a sugar rush.

After finding you in his bed every single morning, Seokmin resorted to just sleeping over at your place, tightly cuddling you to keep you in place. He now had a whole drawer dedicated to his things in your bedroom.

The day started okay. You were awoken not by a loud alarm like you had expected, but by Seokmin gently singing you awake.

For a moment, you thought you had died and gone straight to heaven – maybe working so hard to save the environment had paid off after all, you thought. But no, it was just your reality.

What a beautiful reality. You couldn’t help but smile as you cuddled into his chest.

“If you keep clinging onto me like that, I won’t be able to make my famous waffles for a lucky breakfast,” he whispered but made no attempt to push you away.

The delicious breakfast was followed by an encouraging hug on the way out of the building, him to the school and you to the office. You wore a smile the entire time.

Up until you made it to your desk. Then the reality began sinking in.

This was the day that could make or break your career. The day you had worked so hard for that you neglected your private life for so many years.

As the clock on the wall slowly ticked forward, your hands began to shake. Your throat was dry. Your head was fuzzy, full of nothing but anxiety. If someone had asked you about anything, you would’ve only been able to stare at them with a mouth wide open.

20 minutes until your scheduled interview. You were starting to feel sick.

When another colleague came to give you a supportive pat on the back, you excused yourself and grabbed your phone to rush outside to the balcony. You sat on a chair and willed yourself to take deep breaths as you tapped on his number.

You wanted to slap yourself when you realised that you hadn’t even bothered to check if he was on break yet.

But he answered on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? Did you have the interview alread–”

“Seokmin, I can’t do this,” you whimpered into the microphone. “I can’t do this. They’re gonna realise I’m an idiot and they’ll fire me and–”

“Woah, woah, what happened to your positive can-do attitude?” he wondered. “You’ll be fine.”

“No–”

“(Y/n),” he said your voice so firmly that your breath got caught in your throat. “(Y/n), you will be fine. You’ve worked there for so many years, you’ve achieved so many things. If they wanted to fire you, they would’ve done that by now.”

You took a shaky breath. “What if it’s an elaborate prank?”

“Why would– Baby, listen to me. You’ve worked hard. You put everything you had into that project – I was there, I saw it. You and your ideas are invaluable to your company. They’re going to ask you a few questions as a formality and they’re going to give that promotion and then you and I are going to go to a celebratory dinner and it’ll all be over.”

“And I can get a dog?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You can get two dogs if you want, baby,” he laughed. “You deserve it. Don’t underestimate yourself. I believe in you and I’m sure your co-workers do as well.”

“How do you always know the right words to say?”

He laughed once again. “Baby, I’m a teacher. I’m literally trained to comfort people. I’m just glad I’m able to comfort you as well.”

“Thank you.”

“No need,” he responded, “just go and ace that interview. Okay?”

“And then you’ll come and wipe my happy tears?”

“You already know the answer to that question. But I expect the same treatment when I get my audition results.”

“Will do.”

“Go and get them, tiger.”

You weren’t sure what it was, but something about the conversation seemed to have lifted the weight off your shoulders. When you walked back to the office, the upcoming interview no longer felt as taunting.

As the clock hit 2 pm, you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and headed to your manager’s office.

When the day ended, you found Seokmin standing in front of the office building, a blinding smile on his face.

“Well?” he asked expectantly, though the look in his eyes said that he had every faith that you would only give him good news. You were glad to prove him right.

Your coy smile was replaced with joyous laughter as you ran to hug him and called out, “I got the job!”

“You got it? You got it!” he cheered with you, jumping up and down with you in his arms, not far from spinning you around in the air. “I knew you would! What did I tell you? Silly you,” he let you out of his hold to place his hands on your cheeks and pull your face closer to his own, “you thought you wouldn’t get the promotion. Look at you now. I’m so proud of you.”

You breathed out in relief. The smile seemed to never stop tugging on your cheeks. “I’m so relieved I could cry.”

“Then who will dry my happy tears?” he teased with a bright smile.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Wait–”

“I got the part,” he whispered, his smile only growing wider, eyes sparkling. “I’m going to become a musical actor, officially.”

“Oh my god!” you practically squealed and now it was your turn to hug him and jump. He was glad to join you, laughing in glee. “I knew you could do it! I knew it!”

As joy got the best of you – and who could blame you: this was the happiest day of your life so far –, you grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you to press your lips against his own. He melted into the gesture, arms wrapping around you tighter as if to will the moment to last forever.

When you pulled back, just enough so that your noses touched, he laughed in disbelief. “I thought we were supposed to take it slow?”

“Screw taking it slow,” you whispered and kissed him again. “Might as well make it a triple celebration.”

“I like the sound of that.”

BONUS !

While practically leaning out of their open window to watch you and Seokmin kiss under the streetlights on your way home, Jeonghan and Sunny argued.

“I told you they would get together,” Sunny declared, her eyebrows raised as if to dare her boyfriend to prove her wrong.

Jeonghan scoffed. “Please. They’re just kissing. It could be casual.”

“Just say you don’t want to owe me 20 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you 20 bucks! We have no confirmation!”

“Jeonghan, listen here–”

“No, no, you listen–”

“Both of you listen here!” Chan bellowed from the window above them. “If you don’t stop arguing right now, I will report you both to Jihoon’s parents! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Silence followed. “And pay her the 20 bucks, Jeonghan. They’re clearly together.”

Jeonghan grumbled and glared upwards before fishing a 20 out of his pocket and handing it to his smiling girlfriend.

#seventeenweeklyarticle #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin scenarios #seventeen fic #dk scenarios #.avy writes #series: serenity street 17 💙

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