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nctsworld · 3 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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oonajaeadira · 3 years

Text

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature.

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.”

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one.

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing.

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night.

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there.

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself.

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.”

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him.

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm--

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

#soft ezra #soft!ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #fluffy smut #pedro pascal #ezra prospect smut

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exoticarmy127 · 3 years

Text

🎧 Track 10: Unsaid Emily by Charlie Gillespie

🎵 “If I could take us back, if I could just do that And write in every empty space, the words "I love you" in replace Then maybe time would not erase me.

Featuring: BTS - Jungkook

OC - Emily Mei

Some time before.

They say words are like bullets. Easy to pull the trigger without thinking... easier said that once done, it’s impossible for the damage to be undone.

“So what, you’re sick of it? Is that what you’re saying?” Jungkook shouted as he shoved his song book into his backpack. The night had been going well and for once, he thought they could have one night—one night where he didn’t feel like pulling his hair out for once.

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Jungkook! That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Emily shouted back as the fight escalated into a crescendo of screams and shouts. It was always about the same thing: Jungkook being too busy with his music; Emily being too busy with her studies to make time for him when he’s off practice; not having enough time for each other; not wanting to communicate; blah, blah, blah...

Jungkook was sick of it. Things were finally looking up for his band and he had poured his entire heart and soul into it. His passion. He thought Emily understood that. He thought she understood him. But to his confusion, Emily didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Really? Because it sure as hell sounds like you’re done.” He seethed. “Hell—I’m done with this sh*t!”

Silence enveloped the room and for a moment the world stopped. The fight had reached its final curtain call and Jungkook hoped there wouldn’t be an encore.

Emily looked at him, bewildered. “Jungkook...”

“Save it. I have rehearsals in fifteen. I’m already late and the guys are already at the studio. I don’t need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” She echoed as she watched him pick up his things and head for the door. Her expression contorts into something in between anger and confusion. “So what? You’re just going to leave it like that? Don’t you even care about this? About us?

“What about it?” He muttered flatly, but Emily looked like she had just been slapped.

“What about it? What exactly are you saying, Guk?” Her voice was a low whisper, like a dormant volcano just waiting to erupt. Jungkook sighed and it sounded exhausted, irritated, even; like he had already erupted and this was just the messy aftermath.

“I’m saying I’m done.” He whirled at her, his eyes empty of their usual love and affection, replaced by fierce anger and deadly sincerity. “I’m done, all right? I don’t wanna do this any more than you do.”

“Y-you don't mean that. Hell, you’re thinking I’m the villain here but all I’m saying is that if you don’t give time to what’s important to you, you’re gonna end up losing them.”

Her words hit him square in the chest and when it should have made him sad, it only angered him more.

So she’s giving up on me. She’s letting go. She doesn’t want this—doesn’t want me—anymore.

“I should get to practice already before I lose it, then.”

Jungkook knew it was the wrong answer but he couldn’t give in now. The tension was palpable in the room and he held his breath for another round of sharp words and accusations. But it never came. Emily stood there, stunned, while Jungkook continued to pack his belongings, purposely avoiding her gaze. He knew that if he looked at her now, he'd break, and they’d be back to square one. They’d make up only to fight again by the end of the week.

He could hear her sniffing and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from looking up at her. If there was one thing he hated more than fighting, it was seeing her cry.

“Look,” Emily started, her voice hoarse. “You’re just angry. We can talk after—“

“Well, I’ve been angry for a long time.” Jungkook grumbled as he made his way to the door, hastily.

“Guk, please...”

He paused by the threshold when he heard the crack in her voice and he hated how easy it could beckon him. He closed his hand into fists and pressed his lips into a thin line. He looked down at the floors of her apartment, one he had considered home more than his own for as long as he could remember.

“Let’s face it, Em. We obviously want different things now.”

“Do you really believe that?” She asked but he didn’t answer. She took a step closer, their forms lit by the single light bulb in the narrow hallway. “If you really do, then I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook lifted his gaze to the ceiling, closed his eyes and sighed. “Look, I’m tired of fighting.” He looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Aren’t you?”

Without another word, he slipped out the door, shutting it behind him. The click of the lock sounded much like an end... A period... A goodbye.

Jungkook left that night not knowing he’d carry the weight of his words for a very long time.

~~~

Some time after.

Jungkook gripped the guitar strap on his shoulder as he walked the empty halls of his old high school. The late afternoon sun casted orange hues across the tiled halls and over the metal lockers lining the wall. A couple of students emerged from a door to his right, but they paid him no mind and walked past him, busily talking to each other. Jungkook paused and looked over his shoulder, watching them hold hands before completely disappearing from his view as they rounded a corner. He looked down at his own hand and sighed.

He remembered it like it was yesterday: the very first time he held her hand...or rather, the first time he felt something when he did.

Flashback

Jungkook leaned against Emily’s locker, giving her one of his famed puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist. “Em, come on… Let’s just ditch school today and go rehearse.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to make me a member of your band.”

“You are a member. An honorary one, at least.” Jungkook grinned and batted his pretty eyes. Emily rolled her eyes but he caught the small smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

Her very pretty mouth...

Wait, what? Jungkook blinked at the thought and cleared his throat when he felt the heat creeping to his cheeks.

“You okay?” Emily cocked an eyebrow at him and he straightened and crossed his arms, defensively.

“Fine. Now come on! Say yes.”

“No.”

“Boo.”

Emily chuckled and patted his shoulder. The action was meant to be friendly but Jungkook felt like he had been shot by lightning, his eyes in a daze as he stared at her playful smile.

“You’ll thank me later for dragging your ass back to class. Trust me.”

The hall bell rang and both their heads darted up to the ceiling.

“Sh*t! We’re gonna be late.” Emily panicked but Jungkook only leaned against the lockers again, lips curling into a smirk.

“Well, you know what they say, it’s better never than late.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, while Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“That’s not how the saying goes!”

“Not in my book. Come on, let’s just skip it and—whoa!” Emily grabbed his hand and before Jungkook could process the warmth on his skin, she was dragging him through the hallway so fast; the two of them running to class hand in hand.

Jungkook was winded by the time they reached the classroom, but it wasn’t because they just rushed to the other side of the building in record time...

But because the whole time they did, not once did she let go, and it was electrifying.

End of flashback

The memory faded like a song on the radio and Jungkook’s grip on his guitar tightened. He didn’t have much time. He had to do this before...

Before it’s too late again.

The sun was setting soon and Jungkook walked faster as he made his way to the room he was looking for. It was weird walking through these hallways. He knew where everything was. It was familiar and yet also strange, like he no longer belonged.

That’s because I probably don’t. Not anymore... he thought bitterly.

He reached the second floor and walked to the end of the left corridor where the music room was located.

He opened the door and sighed in relief when he found it empty. He let himself in and wandered, seeing all the instruments and music sheets scattered around the room. There’s a platform at the very front, a low stage with a white screen covering it, which he supposed was either meant to be a curtain of sorts for performances or for video presentations. To its right was an open window with a sheen curtain, overlooking the quadrangle.

Jungkook found the teacher’s table to his right and ambled towards it. He reached for his song book inside his jacket and flipped through the wrinkled pages until it was on the most important page before putting it down on the desk. Next, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small tape recorder. He placed the device beside the song book and pressed play.

Footsteps sounded from outside and Jungkook looked back in panic before rushing to the stage and hiding behind the screen.

The door opened to voices of girls and boys but one in particular rose among them; familiar and so very...her.

“Alright guys, I’ll see what I can do, okay? And don’t be late for practice! The competition is in two weeks. And what did I always say?”

“Practice doesn’t make us perfect but it makes us better.” The students all said in unison and Jungkook smiled. He used to tell her that whenever she caught him practicing too late (which was 99% of the time).

“Okay. See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Ms. Mei!”

Jungkook swallowed as he tried to sneak a peek from behind the screen. He held his breath as he watched a woman close the door, and then turned towards the room. Emily stood there in jeans and a button-down blouse with her hair tied up in a ponytail. She was radiant as ever and looked something out of a movie scene. Jungkook smiled sadly as he gazed at her from behind the screen. She looked the same but also different, which he supposed was how time passed for people you loved...

Love.

She suddenly looked to the other side of the room, and from where Jungkook stood, it felt like she was looking right at him. Even though he knew it was impossible, his heart skipped a beat.

He held his breath as she made her way to her desk, not yet noticing the change in it. He chewed on his lip, a habit of his when he was nervous, and watched as she picked up instruments and placed them into their proper cases before finally reaching the table to organize a bunch of papers and sheet music lying around.

She lifted one of the sheets and paused, and Jungkook knew she saw it.

He stared as her face morphed from confusion, to curiosity, then to shock. She looked up, eyes looking wildly around her as if she’d find the person who left the notebook there.

She never would.

Jungkook looked down at his watch then at the open window, seeing the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, turning the skies pink and purple.

It’s time.

The sun’s rays casted a golden glow against his face and shadows crawled against the wooden floors of the music room.

Jungkook took a deep breath and watched her through the screen. He waited for a few breaths for the light to cast over the screen just right... just until he knew his shadow could be seen on the other side. When it finally did, he felt the magic spark against his skin and found his voice at last.

“Emily.”

Emily looked up at the voice, her expression somewhere in the middle of shock and fear and...sorrow.

“Who’s there…?” Her voice cracked and it sounded less of a question as her face showed recognition. Jungkook supposed he should be happy she could still remember his voice. All those nights he sang to her came rushing back and the pain in his chest grew... One he knew he could never quell.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s just me.”

Emily lets out a gasp and drops the papers she was holding. The sheets flew in all directions but she couldn’t seem to care. She turned around in a circle, looking for the impossible. But she couldn’t see anything. It was then that she laid eyes on the recorder playing on the table.

“Jungkook?” She whispered in disbelief.

“I-I know it’s sudden. But there are some things I didn’t get to say to you... that night.”

Jungkook brought his guitar to his front, letting the instrument fit against his body like second skin. Emily always told him that he carried and played it like it was a part of him. When she said that, he’d hold her hand and tell her that if there was one thing he considered a part of him, it would be her.

Back then, he meant it to be a cheesy, adoring boyfriend. Now, it was the hard truth that slapped him across the face.

“H-how is this...” Emily’s voice shook, her head turning and eyes brimming with tears as she stared wide-eyed at the tape recorder on the table.

Jungkook inhaled deeply and as he breathed out, the first few notes sounded from his guitar, his fingers moving deftly against the frets and strings like he had never stopped playing in the first place. Music was always a part of his DNA, an extension of his soul. When he played, he played with his whole heart and right now as she stared at Emily reading the page on his song book, he sang with his everything.

First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappeared from my mind

Jungkook closed his eyes and let the music take over. People said actions spoke louder than words, but for Jungkook, his music had always been his way of showing how he truly felt. The loudest way he could express what he felt. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, he told her all the things he should’ve done...

When things got loud

One of us running out

I should've turned around

But I had too much pride

Emily covered her lips with a shaking hand and Jungkook knew she was thinking about the last time they had seen each other. How they both said some horrible things, words thrown at each recklessly without thought. Jungkook treated it like a sport. Who could say the worst things? Who would break first and give in? Even when he knew there was no chance of either of them winning.

He wasn’t even sure why he fought when he knew she was just trying to save the one thing he knew he would regret most. More than his music, Emily meant everything to him.

No time for goodbyes

Didn't get to apologize

Pieces of a clock that lies broken

Regrets were often made from the things you thought were right at the moment. Jungkook had known he made the wrong one the moment he stepped out of that door. But he just couldn’t swallow his pride and walked away. And now, he’s stuck in that moment, thinking of what could’ve been if he just turned around...

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

~~~

Emily trembled as she read the words, her hand splayed on the page, her fingertips tracing Jungkook’s familiar messy scrawls. The words were written in haste, which in Jungkook’s music vocabulary meant they were written with the most emotion. She could see it in the curve of his letters, in the way the ink bled through the page, showing that he was gripping the pen too tightly in either excitement or frustration. He saw it in the scrawls, the words scratched over as he struggled to find the right words—the right lyrics that will reflect his feelings. A tear fell from her eye.

The one thing Emily learned about Jungkook in the years that they were together was that he wasn’t the most expressive of people. He was quiet, always in his own world, in his own music headspace. But Emily knew him like the back of her hand. So well that she could easily tell what he was feeling through his eyes.

She couldn’t forget the night he left and how he gazed at her...like he was done, like he didn’t love her anymore.

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave...

Unsaid Emily.

Emily loved Jungkook’s music. It was one of the things he loved about him. So when his career started to take off, she did nothing but support him. It was given blindly out of love and belief that he could make it big. That his talent was big enough for the world.

But she never thought of the consequences. Never thought his dreams would be the reason he would drift father away from her each day, until they were no more than just strangers.

But Jungkook would never be a stranger, she thought sadly. A heartbreaking memory, perhaps. But never a stranger.

~~~

Silent days, mysteries and mistakes

Who'd be the first to break?

Guess we're alike that way

The problem with two people who were both passionate and strong-willed was that they were both willing to prove they’re right. Near the end of their relationship, they barely even talked. The silence deafening and stretching for days on end...

Jungkook wished he broke the silent spell then and shouted out from the rooftops how much he loved her.

He said, she said

Conversations in my head

And that's just where they're gonna stay forever

Emily’s tears began to fall, the tears staining the paper in front of her as she read the lyrics. Her hands shook, her heart ached in her chest, and it felt like with every note and every line, her heart cracked just a little bit… her once broken heart, breaking once again.

When he walked out that night, she forgot to say should’ve asked him...

Stay.

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave

Unsaid Emily

Emily sank to her knees, shaking and crying as she held the song book to her chest. The echoes of the song still ringing in her ears. Jungkook watched with tears in his eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was seeing the love of his life crying and being the reason for it.

She cried for the time they wasted fighting. He cried for the time stolen from him and could never get back. But most of all, they cried for the time—and love they lost.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked as the tears continued to fall. “I never meant it. I was never tired.”

Emily looked up at his words, her eyes zeroing in on the screen. Jungkook gasped as it felt like she was looking right at him.

The sun was so low that he could catch the blue hour slipping through that small window of time from the way the shadows began to disappear. He held his breath as she walked towards the platform, the song book clutched to her chest. With the remaining light, he hoped she could see him.

“Guk?”

Jungkook choked out a sob as he reached out to the screen and spread his palm over it. Emily’s breath hitched as she lifted her right hand over it, until they were hand to hand.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath when he saw the shadow of her hand against his through the screen. She’s so close...

And yet lifetimes apart.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening but you have to know…” Emily whispered to the wind but Jungkook heard her loud and clear. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too.”

Jungkook shook his head. He should’ve been relieved but he wasn’t. He wasn’t because one stupid decision costed him so much. Costed him a life with the person he loved the most.

It’s almost time...

A voice reverberated in his head, making his heart quicken in panic. I don’t have much time, he wanted to say. But he knew there was only ever one thing left to say…

“Emily, I lo—”

The sun dipped and the shadow disappeared from the screen, leaving the room dark and blue with the beginnings of silver moonlight shining from the window. And then there was an eerie silence.

Emily gasped when a gust of wind blew through the open window, turning the page of the song book to the next...

She cried even more when she read the three words written in his handwriting.

~~~

Some time in between.

Jungkook finished the song at midnight, his fingertips scarred from playing his guitar for hours, his hand dotted with ink stains, and his chest heaving from satisfaction and excitement as he stared at the open page in front of him.

It’s done.

“Now I just have to sing it to her.” Jungkook licked his lips as he turned to the next page and wrote the words: I love you.

He looked up at the clock and saw the time but he didn’t care. He'd break in through her window if he had to.

Emily had to know how he felt. It had been two days since the big fight and Jungkook couldn’t eat or sleep. He knew he should’ve returned to her immediately, but he had to wait. He had to show her he was sorry. And he had to do it in the most sincere way possible… through song.

With his guitar on his back, he took his bike and kicked his foot against the asphalt with his song book rolled and tucked in his back pocket.

He raced through the streets, ready to tell her the words... “I’m sorry”... “I’m not tired”... “I don’t hate you...”

I love you.

With thoughts of Emily and her bright, kind eyes, Jungkook sped across an intersection. There was a sudden searing light, a ringing in his ears, and...

Then nothing.

The last thing Jungkook remembered was the sight of broken wood pieces and strings... and the lyrics to a song unsung with words unsaid.

End

Hello, my dears! Did you miss me? I loved this song so much and it inspired me so thought I’d express it through fanfic. haha!

I hope everyone is staying safe and well. It’s been a weird past few months (or year really) but we’re pushing through and I hope you are too! I hope you guys enjoyed this scenario. Even though it made you cry (hell it made me cry!) Btw, this song is from the sound track of the Netflix series, Julie and the Phantoms. Go watch it if you haven’t! It’s good! I am hoping for a season 2~

Do let me know what you think of this and let me know if you guys have some song recs for this series. ;)

- Kaye Allen

LSS PLAYLIST ; mobile

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Happy New Year! I think my goal for this year for this blog will be to try to catch up to at least the beginning of the current arc, if not with the manga as a whole. I’ve got 365 days and a bit shy of 300 chapters (not counting those that will go up this year) so… we’ll see! Gotta Plus Ultra everything, right?

(Of course, that doesn’t account for all the chapters I’m likely to break into multiple parts, like this one… alas, I will just simply see how far I can get.)

[No. 9 - Deku vs. Kacchan]

Starting this chapter off with another western-style comic book cover, with the two coming to blows in costume. Really contrasts when you think of DvK2, which happens out of costume but yet someone comes off as more intense/important to both of them… I wonder what DvK3 will look like?

The chapter itself starts with future Izuku narrating a bit of backstory - that he and Katsuki had grown up in the same neighborhood, so they were childhood friends. He considered Katsuki the fearless type who could do anything, thus becoming the leader of their small gang of friends, and that at the time he wasn’t ‘bad’ or ‘good, just confident, which Izuku admired. However, with Katsuki’s quirk came his slide towards ‘bad’, and the page (and flashback) ends with Izuku echoing the words from the very start of the manga - people are not born equal, a lesson he learned at four.

(As an aside, I really like how the flashback segments are sprinkled through the chapter and slowly add onto the context behind their relationship instead of being shown all at once. It’s better pacing and doesn’t interrupt the flow of the present fight.)

We transition back to the present, with the same moment of Katsuki claiming that Izuku’s defiance even while scared pisses him off as we ended off with in the last chapter. Also, Ochako right behind Katsuki, that was a lost opportunity to attack, even if it wouldn’t have worked. I suppose it was part of Izuku’s plan, but still…

Tenya tries to get Katsuki to give him an update, but Katsuki just tells him to shut up and keep watch while Katsuki wrecks ‘someone’ (cough Izuku). Tenya tries to warn Katsuki to not let emotions get the better of him, only to be frustrated when Katsuki cuts the transceiver, calling him a scoundrel.

Honestly, this is really fucking hilarious considering a few dozen chapters from now is basically:

Tensei: is injured

Tenya: (✿◉‿◉)🔪

Moving on, we switch back to the viewing room, with Kirishima asking about the lack of sound from the cameras. All Might notes they’re communicating with micro-transceivers given to them along with the blueprints and capture tape - the latter of which is used to provide proof of ‘capture’ when tied around the opponent. Kirishima then goes on to ask/clarify that the heroes only have fifteen minutes but no idea where the weapon is located, which All Might confirms. Mina (finally looking as she should) notes that the heroes are at a disadvantage, and All Might tells them it’s like Aizawa said, and leads them through the school motto - Plus Ultra!

Honest to god, what support company willingly made this? Why did they not just dumpster it as an affront to God and make something normal??

Anyways, Aoyama is the one to first notice whatever Katsuki is doing, and All Might turns back to the monitors to watch as well. And so we switch back to inside the building, with Katsuki blasting himself at Izuku. Izuku tells Ochako to run ahead while blocking an explosion-boosted kick to the head. Ochako does so despite her obvious worry for Izuku, and Katsuki ignores her entirely, telling Izuku to worry about himself. Katsuki then gets a moment of shock when Izuku turns out to have used the capture tape to catch Katsuki’s leg before he could pull it away.

Notebook no. 10… we have no idea when he started them, but based on the average time of a notebook being a few months shy of a year, this would likely have been either his last year of elementary or first year of middle school (about age 11/12), so… Izuku has known Eraserhead for quite a while - perhaps in a desperate search for heroes who fought ‘quirkless’ or ‘almost quirkless’? Sadly, I can't make out the text on the page, though I know there’s translations out there that I just have no idea how to locate at the moment… alas.

But yeah, Izuku predicts Katsuki’s next move, and takes advantage of that knowledge to dodge under the next blast without injury. The rest of the class is impressed with Izuku’s ability to go toe-to-toe against the entrance exam’s top scorer without his quirk, while Katsuki keeps getting shocked at Izuku’s moves.

All Might notes that Izuku has always excelled at making split-second decisions, and also his thorough memorization of all the hero-related things he’s been writing in his notebooks - with a short flashback to All Might reading through the notebook while Izuku had been unconscious after being attacked by the Sludge Villain!

Izuku is frustrated, thinking that he had Katsuki, but that one rope wouldn’t be enough to hold him. He thinks about how Toshinori told him he could be a hero, and that with all that support behind him, it was time to show what he was made of.

...and then he immediately bolts around a corner, with Katsuki snapping at Izuku to get back, and then going on to shout about how it ‘must have been fun tricking Katsuki all this time’ and ‘hiding that flashy quirk of his’. Izuku’s expression at that is, according to the discord (because I can’t quite tell myself) frustration, but it might also be a bit of sadness as well?

Katsuki finishes his complaints / telling with more explosions and shouting how Izuku should ‘bring it on’ and that he’d still crush him. With the class, Kaminari notes how angry Katsuki is and that it’s scary. All Might himself…

Wow. Why do people in this fandom think Izuku is way too nice and forgiving of Katsuki when we get moments like this?

Fanon Izuku 1: Kacchan has done nothing wrong ever in his entire life

Fanon Izuku 2: Bakugou is a horrible human being who should never have been allowed to be a hero

Canon Izuku: Kacchan is actually a bitch, but damn do I admire his confidence and skill

Also, we see you there Nerd Might:

We come back to Izuku crouched down by a corner somewhere, panting a bit as he analyses the situation. He notes how Katsuki came right for him and ignored Ochako, and that the smart play for the villain team would have been for Tenya to be the vanguard because of his superior mobility and speed. Since he bets Tenya also knows that, this is probably Katsuki rampaging on his own, so there’s no teamwork happening. We then get a lovely mental image while Izku notes that if both of them had come at the hero team from the start, it would have been really hard to win. He also notes that sticking with Ochako would have likely led to that two on two situation, with him and Ochako wasting too much time on Katsuki, but with them split up, they have a stronger chance since she can go after the weapon and capture Tenya. If he can just follow after her, it’ll be a two on one fight against him, meaning they’ll win!

...so long as Izuku can win against Katsuki. He wipes at the small amount of blood trickling from his nose, telling himself he’ll be fine so long as he watches out for Katsuki’s palms. He thinks back on the past, where he’d told Katsuki he wasn’t trying to compete with him, and says in the present that he takes it all back.

Since the next couple of pages are the flashback portions on Katsuki’s end, I am gonna cut it off here, because those deserve their own post.

Also, on request from the discord:

youtube

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (12)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @blueleatherbag and @dudethisvoid for being so helpful

This is the longest chapter here so far.

Click pictures for better quality

𝐈𝐭 has been one hundred and twenty hours out of one hundred and sixty-eight. Harley and Amadis' mission only has forty-eight hours left. In mortal time, they've consumed five days out of seven which means they only have two days left.

Amadis has been stuck in Prague for three days now. He was glad that Saint Christopher and Saint Thomas Aquinas were accompanying him. If not, he'd feel insane going on this Prague mission alone.

"So, what's our plan today?" Saint Christopher asks as he likes Saint Agnes' photo on Instagram. Saint Thomas Aquinas looks over and nods, "God has favorites, I swear."

"I know right!" Saint Christopher huffs.

"It's unfair, dude." Saint Thomas Aquinas rolls his eyes. "He says he loves us equally and that we were made in His image and likeness. But why aren't some of us as good looking as the other?"

"I'm sure God has reasons." Amadis chimes in. "Anyway, we'll be going back to London tomorrow so that it's not suspicious."

"What do you mean?" Saint Christopher asks.

"Tom Holland flies back to London today. It would be suspicious because if I left the same day Tom left. I went to Prague the same day Tom went and that's enough coincidences." Amadis explains. The two saints just shrug and continued on beating boredom by being on their phone.

"Ugh, I hate cyan!!" Saint Thomas Aquinas huffs. He looks at Saint Christopher and Amadis and says, "I'm playing this game called 'Among Us'. Download it so we can all play."

Saint Christopher and Amadis look at each other and shrug. What have they go to lose? They're bored, anyway. So, they download the game.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives at the airport with his best mate, Brad Simpson.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride, mate? Y/N isn't here." Brad states as he looks around for the girl. Tom sighs, but reassuringly smiles at his best friend, "It's alright. She's just running late. Traffic sucks, you know."

Brad nods, "That's true. I hate it. Anyway, I'll see you soon."

"See ya!"

They give each other a quick hug before Brad gets in his car. Tom waves a goodbye before he looks around for Y/N and pulls out his phone to text her.

"I'll just wait for her for five minutes. She's just late." Tom whispers to himself. Alas, five minutes have passed. Five turned to ten and ten turned to fifteen. As time passed, Tom has been staying at the airport for one hour now.

Tom huffs and angrily strides to where the taxis are. However, Tom isn't aware of the line as he walks straight up front and tells the person in charge, "I want a taxi. Now. Make it snappy."

"You want a taxi?"

"Yes. I believe that's what I said. Don't make me repeat things." Tom rolls his eyes and fixes his coat.

"Get in line, then." The man says as he points at the line behind Tom. Tom looks at the line behind him and his jaw drops at the long line.

"Oi, you heard the man. Get in line, mate!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tom gasps.

"Back in the line, cunt!" One shouts from the back.

Tom holds his head up high as he walks to the back of the line. He has never been so embarrassed in his entire life. He feels humiliated and by the time he reaches the end of the line, his face is all red from shame.

A few minutes later, he finally gets a taxi going to the city. He checks his phone only to see no texts from Y/N. He clenches his jaw and puts his phone in his pocket.

Thirty minutes later, he arrives at the city. He pays for the ride and gets out. Now, he didn't know where to go. He looks around and he realizes that he doesn't know how to get home.

"I'm fucking screwed."

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄

"Who the hell is the impostor??" Saint Christopher mutters under his breath as he plays 'Among Us' on his phone.

Saint Thomas Aquinas holds back his laughter and continues to play the game. Amadis focuses on the game and sighs when the impostor kills him.

"Aight, I'm dead." Amadis announces. "My body is in the storage room." After he says that, his phone starts ringing. Amadis looks at his phone and his eyes widen, "It's the big guns upstairs!"

"No way-!" Saint Christopher shouts.

"I know right! He never calls me!" Amadis panics.

"I can't believe I got killed in the game!" Saint Christopher groans. "And I especially can't believe Saint Thomas A. killed me!"

The saint just looks at him with a devious smile, "I had to do what I had to do and Amadis, if I were you, I'd answer the call."

Amadis sighs and answers the phone, "Hi God!"

"Let's switch to FaceTime." God says.

"He-"

"I gave that Tom Holland kid one hell of a karma." God says. "He doesn't know how to commute and stuff."

"Oh. Thanks, God." Amadis says.

"No problem. How's Prague?" God asks, fully invested in their mission. Amadis looks up from his phone to see the two saints learning the dance to 'Ice Cream' by BLACKPINK and Selena Gomez.

Amadis looks back on his phone where God is waiting for a response, "We're good. How's heaven?"

God shrugs, "We're alright up here."

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒' 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

"You got everything already?" Harrison asks as he watches Y/N walk around to check if she has everything. Y/N looks at him and nods, "Yeah. I guess I should get going now. Sorry I can't babysit Harley with you today."

"I can't babysit him either." Harrison sighs. "Timmy's watching him, though. Harley's excited."

"That's good to hear!" Y/N grins. "I'll go now."

"Alright." Harrison says. She walks up to him and gives him a hug, "It was a pleasure babysitting Harley with you."

He hugs back and smiles, "Likewise."

"Hugging without me, I see." Harley jokes. He joins the hug and frowns when he realizes that he may never see Y/N again. As if reading his mind, Y/N pulls away and kisses Harley's forehead, "I'll see you soon, alright? You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

"But what about that man on th-"

"Harley." Harrison interrupts and gives Harley a pointed look as if telling him to stop it. Harley looks at him and changes the topic, "I'll see you soon!"

Y/N smiles, gets her bags and leaves. Harrison turns to Harley and asks, "Alright, are you ready to hang out with Timothée?"

"Yup!" Harley grins and grabs the allowance envelope from the table where Harrison placed it earlier this morning when Finn dropped it off.

"Good! Let's go!" Harrison takes his bag and leaves with Harley. The two of them exit the apartment building and walk to a café not too far from the apartment.

"Timmy works here, but it's his day off today." Harrison tells Harley as they enter the fancy café. Harley looks around in awe and stares at the display case with all the pastries he couldn't pronounce and never heard of.

"Psst!" Timothée says quietly and motions for Harrison to come over. Harrison smiles and taps Harley's shoulder before pointing at Timothée. The two of them walk to where Timothée is and they sit with him in the booth.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Timothée says in a posh accent. "I'm a wealthy and posh man sitting here in a posh café, waiting for my equally wealthy friends."

Harley giggles and Harrison shakes his head with a chuckle. Timothée laughs and goes back to his normal speaking voice, "What's up?"

"You already know." Harrison says. "You'll watch Harley. Y/N and I can't watch him today and no one else is available."

"Geez, you sound like an actual dad." Timothée laughs. Oh, if he only knew. "But yeah, this lil' guy and I will have fun! I'll make sure of it."

"Great! Thanks a lot, mate. I owe you one." Harrison grins. He stands up to give Timothée a quick hug and he kisses the top of Harley's head before saying goodbye and leaving.

"Is he a good dad?" Timothée jokes as he takes a sip of his coffee.

'He favors my siblings more, but now that I'm here in the past, I can see that he's great. The most selfless person I've ever met, actually.' Harley thinks to himself. Suddenly flashbacks of his few moments with his father came to mind.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟒

Harley didn't understand why he was staying with his grandparents. All he was told is that his parents will go to the hospital because his little sister was coming. He brushed it off and played with his grandparents.

The next day, he and his grandparents went to the hospital to meet the new baby, his sister, whom he already disliked because of the way his mum looked at her. His grandfather placed him on the ground and he frowned. He frowned even more when his grandfather paid attention to the baby instead.

Oh, how he loathed that day. To his unluckiness, this went on for a while. He was neglected by everyone. For a short time, even his uncle Tom paid attention to the baby which surprised him and he felt betrayed by his favorite uncle.

One day, his mum and his baby sister, Harper, were fast asleep in the bedroom and Harley was in the living room playing with the toys his uncle Tom bought for him all the way from Japan. Harley suddenly wasn't amused by his imported toys anymore and he just laid down on the couch and opened the tv to watch his favorite cartoon.

Harrison emerged from his office and went to the living room, "Harley, where's your mum? I have something to ask."

"In the room... with the baby." Harley said sadly. Harrison frowned at his eldest. He didn't know why his son was upset. He walked towards Harley crouched down in front of him, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"No one loves me anymore." Harley said and he cried. Harrison had no clue where that came from and he asked again as he wiped his son's tears away, "What makes you say that?"

"No one plays with me anymore and everyone plays with the baby and not me." Harley cried. "I hate you. I hate mum. I hate grandma and grandpa."

"You're sad about that?" Harrison said softly. "Harley, just because we spend more time with the baby, doesn't mean we love you less. We spend more time with the baby because the baby needs more attention. A baby cries all the time and they can't take care of themselves because they're not big like you."

Harley didn't say anything. He just sniffed and wiped his tears. An idea came to Harrison's mind, "How about we hang out today? My work can wait, alright? We can go to the park or the ice cream shop down the road. Isn't that fun?" Harrison coaxed his young son. It worked, though.

"Ice cream?" Harley asked.

"Yeah. Do you want that?" Harrison asked and Harley smiled and nodded quickly. "Let's get you dressed then!" Harrison smiled and picked him up as they went to Harley's room.

That day at the ice cream shop and the park was spectacular. Soon, it became a tradition every Saturday.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟕, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟔

"Harley, let's go! It's time for school." Harrison shouted from the front door. It was Harley's first day of school and his parents could tell that he was nervous. His parents didn't want him late on the first day.

Tiny footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and Y/N smiled at the sight of her little boy looking all dressed up. "Darling, you look amazing!" Y/N grinned as she adjusted Harper in her arms. Harper was now two years old.

Y/N leaned down and kissed the top of Harley's head, "Good luck, alright? I'll pick you up after school and please behave!"

Harley nodded and practically ran to the car. Y/N pecked Harrison's lips and bid him a goodbye as well.

"I'll see you when I get home. I'll be home at seven." Harrison said before kissing Harper's cheek.

"See you at seven, my love." Y/N said with the look of love on her face. They've been married for three years and things between them were getting better and better as each day passes.

"See you at seven." Harrison winked and left to open his car and help Harley in.

On the drive to Harley's school, they listened to Disney songs on shuffle. 'Un Poco Loco' from Coco came on and Harley grinned and cheered. Harley even did his best grito.

Harrison glanced at him for a second through the rearview mirror and smiled. He turned up the volume a bit and he heard Harley sing.

"What color is the sky? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You tell me that it's red. Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. Where should I put my shoes? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You say-"

"Put 'em on your head! Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor." Harrison sang along which made Harley let out the cutest giggle he's ever heard.

Harley did the cutest air guitar action before singing again, "You make me un poco loco, un poquititito loco. The way you keep me guessing. I'm nodding and I'm yes-ing, I'll count it as a blessing that I'm only un poco loco!"

It went like that every morning. Harrison would drive him to school and they'd have a karaoke session of Disney songs in the car. Harrison didn't mind having Disney songs stuck in his head as long as his son was having fun. He didn't care that his colleagues were looking at him weirdly as he quietly sung to himself. The other day, he earned a look from his friend at work when they caught him quietly singing 'Into The Unknown' from Frozen 2.

A few months later, Tom bought Harley his first guitar and paid for his guitar lessons. Tom may have bought the guitar and paid for his lessons, but Harrison was there through every breakdown whenever Harley couldn't get a note right. Harrison was there through Harley's highs and lows until Harley got better and better. Tom may have took credit for buying Harley a guitar and paying for guitar lessons, but Harrison took credit for being Harley's first critic and audience.

That's why years later, it broke his heart when he wasn't able to go to his son's first talent show.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟑𝟎, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟗; 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘

"Harley, wake up." Harrison whispered. "Harley!"

Harley stirred awake and groaned, "What?"

"It's Mother's Day. Do you want to help me make breakfast for your mum?" Harrison asked nicely as he watched Harley sit up.

"Sure." Harley yawned as he got out of bed.

"Great! I'll meet you in the kitchen." Harrison smiled and went downstairs. A few minutes later, Harley comes down and they begin to cook breakfast for Y/N.

Harrison was glad that he was spending time with his son that day. Usually, Harley would be eager to go spend his weekends with Tom. Both of them would go abroad for the weekend and then comeback at Sunday in the afternoon.

An hour and a half later, they were done cooking and setting the table. Y/N walked down the stairs with Harper walking beside her. They entered the dining area and gasped at the sight.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Harrison and Harley said enthusiastically.

"Aww, thank you so much!" Y/N teared up.

"Mummy, don't cry." Harper frowned. Y/N chuckled and wiped her tears, "I blame the hormones."

Harrison chuckled, "You're blaming your pregnancy hormones for crying?"

"Yes." Y/N chuckled as she instinctively put a hand on her bump. She was five months pregnant. Harrison crouched down a bit and spoke to the ever-growing baby in Y/N's womb.

"Hey there, little one! It's Mother's Day now and we're celebrating. I can't wait for you to come out so that you can celebrate with us next year. I love you. Oh and this is daddy, by the way." Harrison said as everyone chuckled.

Harrison stood up straight and led Y/N to the table and helped her sit down. "Harley and I made breakfast. You're welcome." Harrison said as he sat down after helping Harper in her seat.

"Thank you! I appreciate it." Y/N giggled.

The doorbell rang and Harley got up to get it. "Uncle Tom!" Harley shouted gleefully.

Y/N looked at Harrison and gave him a small smile, "Harley loves you. Remember that."

"I'm not his favorite person in the world, though." Harrison said with a sad smile on his face. "Let's eat!"

Tom entered the house with the biggest bouquet of flowers anyone has ever seen. Harper gasped and said, "Wow! Pretty flowers!"

"Indeed, they are, Harper!" Y/N breathed. She couldn't recover from the shock when she saw the flowers. "Hi, Tom! What brings you here?"

"I thought I'd pay my second favorite mum for a visit! These flowers are yours." Tom said as he looked to the side to see everyone. "I'll put these in the living room."

Tom made his way to the living room and placed it on the coffee table. Harley closed the front door and went back to his seat. Tom quickly jogged to the dining area and placed a quick kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"Happy Mother's Day, love." Tom said with a smile. He looked at the food and said, "I'm impressed! I assume Harrison cooked breakfast."

"Yes and Harley helped." Harrison said as he and Harley looked at each other with big grins on their faces.

"That's great! Anyway, I'm taking my mum out today and I was wondering if this pretty lady," Tom winked at Y/N, as he pulled out his phone to text someone. "Would like to join! It's just a quick trip around France. We'll be back at six. We'll use the jet."

Tom looked at Harrison, pointed at his phone and mouthed, "Check your phone."

Tom looked up from his phone, smiled at Harrison and mouthed, "You're welcome."

Harrison turned to Y/N, "Love, I think you should go. It'll be fun! My Mother's Day gift to you is cleaning up around the house. So, go enjoy Paris."

Catching on like the smart kid that he is, Harley agreed, "Yes, mum! In fact, take Harper with you."

"I can watch her while we're at Paris. I'm very very capable of taking care of Harper." Tom said with a grin. Y/N looked at all three of them and shrugged, "Alright. I needed a break, anyway."

While Y/N and Harper were at Paris to spend Mother's Day with Tom and Nikki, Harrison and Harley were planning a small dinner party for when they get back. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed themselves that night.

"You and your dad make a great team." Tom said to Harley that night at the party. "That's good. I think both of you should team up often."

"But I already have you to team up with." Harley said.

Tom chuckled, "Yes and you will always be my teammate. But you and your dad are the best team. We're just a close second. I think it's time you should see that. I never had with my dad and you're lucky to have him as a father."

"I guess we do make a great team." Harley trailed off.

"Yes and you should be proud of it." Tom said and ruffled Harley's hair.

Unbeknownst to them, Harrison was listening to their conversation and somehow, it reassured Harrison that his relationship with Harley was alright; everything was okay. After all, he was a good father and a good husband.

"Harley!" Timothée says, snapping Harley out of his daydream. He chuckles, "I asked what you want to eat and what you want to do for today. I work here, so I get discounts for food and drinks and stuff like that. Take your pick, little man."

Timothée smiles and slides the menu towards Harley. Harley browses through the menu and tells Timothée that he wants a slice of red velvet cake and a glass of cold chocolate milk.

"You got it, buddy!" Timothée smiles and calls for a waiter. Joshua, Timothée's colleague, happily takes their order and says, "I'll be back in a minute with your orders."

"We appreciate it, man. Thank you." Timothée says with a smile. He turns to Harley and asks, "Anything you want to do today?"

Harley shrugs, "We could go to the park or something."

"Ever been to a cruise?" Timothée asks. Harley shakes his head. Timothée smirks, "We'll take a cruise, then. It's just a short cruise on the Thames."

Harley's face lights up and Timothée chuckles. Joshua comes back with Harley's order and Harley starts eating.

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives home, surprisingly in one piece, at eleven in the evening. He somehow got lost. He took the wrong buses a bunch of times, there was no signal on some places, then his phone died, he ended up having tea at Bristol. Then when he took the train to go home, he accidentally got off at the wrong stop and when he turned back to get in the train, it already left.

Long story short, it was not his day.

Seeing Y/N in their shared bedroom watching something on Netflix made Tom's blood boil. The maid quickly brings in Tom's suitcase and quickly leaves. The maid sensed a fight brewing and she felt the need to warn her fellow workers that their boss will yell any second now.

Y/N finally sees him and smiles, "Hi, love. Welcome home!"

"Don't 'hi, love' me!" Tom raises his voice. All he could see was red. "Where the fuck were you?! I called you and texted you! You said that you were going to pick me up at the fucking airport!"

Y/N stays quiet.

"Were you with that fucking kid again?! I fucking bet you were! Who even is that kid? What makes him so special that you care about him so much? I'm you fiancé, dammit!" Tom shouts.

Y/N's face contorts in anger. She's had enough. The last straw was bringing Harley into their fight. Harley was innocent.

(A/N: Tom's thoughts are in bold.)

"Don't you dare bring him into this!" Y/N shouts, standing up from the bed. "He's not at fault! I volunteered to watch him for a few days because I wanted to and I needed a break! I needed a break from you, from work, from Saoirse, and from fucking wedding planning!"

"It's OUR wedding, Thomas! OUR WEDDING. Not just mine. So if you won't help in fucking planning, I might as well get married to myself!" She yells.

"You're always out partying with Brad and you always want me to be home at a certain time so that I could look after you or something. I have a life too and I want to bloody live it!"

"These past few days have been a great retreat for me and it was amazing. It was away from everyone I knew and I deserved that. Saoirse's acting like a bridezilla and she's not even the bride!" Y/N shrieks. "How fucking dare she complain about the centerpieces when she won't even fucking glance at it on the wedding day itself! FUCK YOU, SAOIRSE!!" She paces back and forth.

'Tell her off, then! What do you want me to do? Talk to her? I bloody hate her too.'

"And your fucking bodyguards are always around me like they're vultures and I'm their prey! I hate it! Why do you even need them?! You're not a fucking Hollywood star!"

'Yes, but I'm a CEO, darling. My life is always, always at risk. Have you seen the movies about people like me getting captured? Probably not. Go rest and watch them and you'll understand.'

"Oh, and I hate that you don't like my friend, Florence! She's so kind! Kinder than Saoirse and better, actually."

'I didn't say I hated her. I just said that her way of living was weird. She owns a karaoke bar and she lives in a shoebox apartment even though she could afford anything more expensive than that. I didn't prohibit you from hanging out with her, did I?'

"And my friend, Harrison, apparently applied for your fucking company-"

'Who? I've literally never heard of him. I don't call my applicants by their name. I call them based on what I see.'

"-as a social media manager and you didn't even hire him! Now, he has to do part time jobs and shit to get by!"

'Ahh, I know him. He's the guy that applied for social media manager with worn out shoes and an old jacket that I assume was a hand-me-down. I didn't hire him because he didn't look the part. My apologies, darling.'

"Then you're mean to Harley?! What did he ever do to you? He's only ten years old!"

'He did nothing, but he took you away from me. You don't even answer my calls when you're with him. I take that personally.'

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?" Y/N sighs in a frustrated manner. Tom stares at her and purses his lips. She grabs her phone and charger and leaves their shared room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tom asks.

"Guest room. I don't want to sleep next to you, right now." She says. "Sometimes I think you're only with me for sex because that's how we fucking solve everything before. Well, not this time. Good night, Thomas."

She slams the door and hurriedly walks to the guest room to get some well-deserved shut eye. Tom huffs and lays down on the cold bed and immediately goes to sleep due to all the exhaustion. However, even asleep, Y/N's question haunts him in his sleep.

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?"

* * * *

wow 4.4k words

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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groovyzombiellama · 5 years

Text

Kiss Me

Title: Kiss Me

Requested? Yes.

Plot: Being Scott’s sister and Theo takes you out on a date, the pack watching over everything closely, Theo and you ending up having a pretty fun time on your date and having a kiss in the rain.

Word count: 1423

—***—

It took Theo a lot of time to convince you to go out on a date with him. You already knew you liked him, and you actually wanted to go on a date with him, but when he asked you the first time, all the flashbacks of your previous terrible first dates had you hesitating to answer. Somehow, you always found a way to make the date awkward, and due to liking Theo, and having to hang out with him later, you would feel terrible if things turned awkward. You wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes if you either spilled your drink on him, or accidentally try to make a joke, only to have it turn out weird, or you forget the punchline. Believe me, it can happen, especially around guys you like. And for the longest time, you did your utmost best to avoid Theo in any way possible. As soon as the bell would ring, signaling the end of class, you would bolt out of there, faster than any supernatural creature you have ever encountered. It did earn you a few dirty looks from your teachers, because you had to pack your books a few minutes earlier than the rest and you had a feeling that they were pretty mad at you, but your work and knowledge would be speaking for you on any test they throw at you.

And it was frustrating Theo a lot. Every time he'd see you dash out of the classroom, trying your best to look inconspicuous, a sigh would leave his lips. He really wanted to get to know you better than the previews he'd get when he'd come over to the McCall residence for plan forming and you would be adding some pretty good pointers throughout. You were the only person that made him want to forget why he was actually hanging out with the pack in the first place. He even missed a few meetings with the Dread Doctors because the pack was organising a gathering, a movie night or something like that, and after only the y part of yes, to the question if you were gonna be there, he was ready to miss the meeting and not care about the consequences. If only he could figure out what was going on inside your head and why you were avoiding him. So one day he figured out a plan on how to force you to come face to face with him.

About fifteen minutes before the end of class, Theo raised his hand and asked the teacher if he could leave early, because he had some family business and the teacher allowed him to leave. That took a huge weight off your shoulders, because now you didn't have to gather your things and rush out, you could finally pack you bags relaxed and exit the classroom with your brother and friends. However, you had absolutely no idea what Theo had in mind with this. He actually waited for the class to finish, so that when you leave, you would bump into him and have no chance of escaping. Figuring you'd walk out of the classroom with the pack, he decided to wait for you by your car, knowing the pack was going straight to the library, so if you wanted to get home first, to change or anything, he'd catch you alone. And you did your blood running cold in your veins as you notice Theo leaning against your driver side door. He had a smirk on his face, and the look in his eyes that showed his happiness due to his victory.

"Now you're finally all mine, princess. You have nowhere to escape."

Your knees felt weaker at the nickname he gave you, but somehow managed to stay upright, avoiding his gaze as you looked through your bag to try and find your keys. Putting the key in the lock, you tried opening the car door, only to have Theo grab your wrist, freezing you in place. His touch burned against your skin, and part of you wanted to yank your hand free, give him a death glare before driving away, but another part of you wanted him to never let go. He placed his fingers under your chin and turned your head, so after a couple of weeks, you were finally face to face once again. You had almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes were, and how much you loved that little sly smirk of his turning into a wide grin whenever he'd look at you. That gave you some confidence regarding how you thought he felt about you, but you still waited for him to speak. Being so close to each other had Theo's eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and back again as he spoke.

"I don't really know why you keep avoiding me, but I promise that if you agree to go on this date with me, I'll do everything I can to make it the best date you've ever been on. All you need to bring or be is you. Even if you come dressed in a hoodie or pajamas, you'll still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me. Give us a shot, please."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, prompting Theo to use the 'and she smiles' line on you, making you frown along with your smile, signaling with your facial expression your disbelief that he actually said that one. But Theo was still intently watching you, waiting for your answer, so you decide to agree to the date. You had to start giving yourself more credit every now and then. You agreed on a time and date for your, well, uh, date, shocking I know, after which Theo finally let you get into your car and go home. Little did you know that your friendly neighbourhood Stiles was watching the whole exchange, and informed the rest of the pack about your plans. And so your brother and his best friend decided to spy on you on your date.

Theo actually gave it his best tonight and took you to a fancy restaurant, absolutely blown away by your outfit, and he just couldn't stop completing you, relishing in the smile that would curve your lips at his compliments and doing his best to memorise the shade of red that would color your face. Scott and Stiles looked hilarious hiding their faces behind the menus even after ordering, causing the waiter to give them a confused look. To be honest, if you were here with anyone else, you would have maybe even noticed them by now, but your date with Theo was going super well, as you two got to know each other, sharing a good amount of laughs and just all around having a fantastic time together. Neither one of you wanted the date to end, but sadly it had to, so you when Theo offered you his hand to take as you were getting up, you happily took it, smiling as he interviewed his fingers with yours. As you walked to his car, the two spies followed behind you, having to duck into Stiles' jeep as rain started pouring. You tried rushing over to Theo's truck, since he picked you up for the date, only for him to stop in his tracks, causing you to spin around and bump directly into his chest, his arms wrapping around your back.

Looking at him, you questioned why he stopped in the rain, and why the two of you were getting soaked right now. Theo in turn smirked, and his words made you blush for probably the hundredth time tonight.

"I've heard that a kiss in the rain is a truly perfect way to end a perfect date. And since every moment I spend with you is perfect, why not give it a shot?"

He slowly leaned in, closing the gap between him and you, while you placed your arms around his neck, turning your head to the side, waiting for your lips to connect. When they finally did, fireworks erupted and the whole world was gone. The feeling of rain on you was gone. All that you felt was Theo, his hands on your lower back, his lips on yours. What felt like heaven to you and Theo was a jaw dropping moment for your brother and friend. You'd probably have some explaining to do when you get home, but right now, you were in bliss.

—***—

@cokecola4211 I hope you like this one, I really got inspired while writing and it cane out pretty long 😊❤️

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mikauzoran · 4 years

Text

Marichat: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Fifteen

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...passionately.

Marinette gasped. “You brought me a whole bolt of silk taffeta! Minou, you shouldn’t have! This is too expensive,” she insisted, even as she eagerly ran her fingers over the pastel pink fabric, envisaging the ballgown she would make with it.

Chat Noir shrugged, drinking in the sight of his breathlessly happy girlfriend. “What’s the use of being rich if I can’t supply the love of my life with high-end fabric?”

She looked up from the taffeta and frowned. “This feels like a bribe. What did you do that you’re trying to get me to forgive you for?”

Chat winced at how perceptive she was. Just like Ladybug. He definitely had a type.

“Nothing,” he lied. “It’s more that I was trying to butter you up.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, propping the bolt of fabric against her desk by the sewing machine before coming over to sit on the chaise longue beside him. “I’m listening.”

He inhaled slowly. “So…we know each other.”

She blinked. “Um…yeah? Going on four years now.”

He shook his head, taking her hand in his. “Princess…I mean that…we know each other…when I’m not transformed.”

Her eyes flew wide, and she pulled back, opening her mouth to protest.

His fingertips went to her lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m not giving away my identity without your permission—promise—I just… We know each other, Marinette, and it’s really hard for me when we see each other and you don’t know who I am.”

Her instinct was to look away, change the subject, not deal with the problem, hope that it would go away because she couldn’t handle even one more thing on top of the stack she was already precariously balancing, feeling like she would trip and drop it all at any second.

She didn’t look away, though. She forced herself to meet his gaze and see the hurt and longing in his eyes.

“It’s really hard not being able to be your boyfriend half the time,” he explained. “I’m not saying this to pressure you or try to guilt you into letting me reveal my identity. I’m just trying to be honest with you about my feelings. A friend told me that healthy couples are honest with one another, so…I’m trying to be as honest as I can, Marinette.”

She did avert her eyes then, studying the whorls in the floorboards.

A sharp dagger of guilt ripped through her insides as she thought of all the ways she wasn’t being honest with him. Ladybug and Adrien were only the tip of the iceberg.

“May I please tell you who I am?” he pleaded gently. “I just want us to be able to be together. I want to be your boyfriend on both sides of the mask.”

To her credit, she did think about it.

She thought about it for all of five seconds before her head was filled to bursting with nightmare scenarios of Papillon coming after her parents, Chat Noir dead, her identity exposed, all of Paris underwater, the world in ruins, and Tikki telling her “I told you so”.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Chat Noir. I want us to be together all the time too, but…it’s too dangerous with Papillon still at large. Your life, my life, the lives of our families and friends, the lives of all the inhabitants of Paris could depend on your identity staying safe. It would be irresponsible and selfish for us to disregard that kind of risk.”

“You sound like Ladybug,” Chat sighed, carding a hand through his hair in frustration. “Yes, there’s a slim chance that things could go sideways, but I can’t imagine it ever getting as bad as all that.”

She looked at him and tried not to see flashbacks of him in pure white. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t have to imagine the worst because she had already seen it in another future where something had gone wrong…. Only, she didn’t know what, so she didn’t know what to guard against. Wasn’t it better, then, to guard against everything?

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, feeling lost, not knowing what was right, just feeling the weight of her decision, how it could impact so many people. “Someday, Minou, but not today. I’m not ready.”

He blew out a long exhale, giving his hair a slight pull as he mentally growled at himself to be patient.

She hadn’t said no…just not yet. That was progress, wasn’t it?

He had to respect her feelings, her choice.

…But he didn’t think he could go on as they were much longer. More importantly, he didn’t think that she could go on.

He dropped his hands to the side and sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she repeated, blinking at him in surprise.

He nodded, turning to give her a soft smile. He placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. “I love you. I would never pressure you on something big like this. If you’re not ready, I’ll deal until you are.”

“…I don’t deserve you,” she chuckled as tears slowly began to drip down her cheeks.

He rolled his eyes. “Princess, we one hundred percent deserve one another. Trust me.”

He wiped carefully at her face with his thumb, mindful of his claws, and then leaned in for a quick smooch.

“Let’s go snuggle,” he suggested as he pulled back, tipping his head towards her loft.

She nodded her assent, and they made for her bed, slipping off shoes and gloves and hair ties respectively along the way.

Snuggling became kissing, but before kissing could turn to making out, Chat disengaged, propping himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her, running a knuckle up and down her jaw.

“Why’d you stop?” she whined, eyes half-lidded.

“I finally got up the courage to say something I’ve been trying to tell you for a couple days now,” he admitted, lips wavering between a sheepish smile and a grimace.

Marinette’s eyebrows converged into a deep v of concern. “What is it, Chat Noir?”

He bit his lip, hesitating yet again. “Don’t freak out.”

“Too late,” she snorted dryly, her anxiety suddenly shooting through the skylight. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Everything is fine. There’s nothing to get worked up about, so don’t freak out.”

She pushed herself up to sitting, his words having no comforting effect. “Chat Noir, please just tell me.”

He sat up and took her hands in his. “I love you.”

“Chat,” she whined, voice tight and strained.

“Adrien told me,” he blurted out.

She stared at him, trying to derive meaning from his words.

Individually, they made sense, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of them when assembled in that configuration.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly spit out, words flowing from his lips too fast for Marinette to follow. “He only said something because he was worried about you. He’s afraid the guilt is making you physically ill, and he doesn’t want to be the reason you get akumatized, Marinette. He knows you were afraid about how I would react, but he couldn’t stay quiet anymore, so…he told me.”

“Oh.” Marinette tipped over, covering her face with her hands as she lay back down. “What…exactly…did he tell you?”

“That you two have been making out the past few months,” he clarified, wincing.

“Oh,” she whispered, the word a broken, wet sound as her tears began to fall in tandem with everything Chat Noir had ever been to her—partner, friend, soulmate—crashing down around her ears.

It was over.

She’d lost him.

One of the few people who had truly mattered in her life, and she’d messed it all up with her greed and indecision.

It felt like a chunk of her lung had broken off, leaving a sizeable hole.

She couldn’t breathe.

“Marinette, it’s okay,” he stressed, hands stroking her hair and hands and face frantically. “It’s okay. He told me everything. I know this is Adrien’s fault, not yours, so there’s no need to be upset. It’s okay.”

Marinette’s tears instantly dried, and she lowered her hands from her face to frown up at him in confused annoyance. “Chat Noir, it’s not like Adrien tied me up and forced me to kiss him. I don’t know what he said, but I betrayed you, plain and simple. Yes, in the beginning, it was a series of accidents with Adrien kissing me, but…that was just the first month or so. Yeah, I tried to stop, but…sometimes I didn’t try very hard. I chose to cheat on you…and I’m sorry.”

She forced herself to keep meeting his eyes even though all she wanted to do was shrivel up in shame and guilt. “I know those words are probably less than meaningless, but I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. That and not wanting to lose you were the main reasons I never said anything.”

She shook her head sadly. “Sorry I screwed up. You deserve better, and I would apologize a million times if I thought saying sorry would mean anything at this point, but I feel like it would just be a bunch of empty words after what I did. It’s not like I can ever make it better, make it up to you.”

“Marinette,” he sighed. “Oh, Marinette. Stop. Look. It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

She blinked up at him for a moment before her surprise gave way to indignation and she pushed herself back up to sitting. “What? Chat Noir, nothing about this is fine. You should be livid. I cheated on you.”

He shook his head, reaching out to capture her hands again.

She pulled them away.

“Marinette,” he groaned. “Seriously. It’s okay. I know this isn’t some random fling, and I know you wouldn’t cheat on me with just anyone. You told me from the very beginning that you had feelings for him. The day we started dating you told me that you’d almost let him kiss you just hours before. You could have so easily been his girlfriend instead of mine, so I understand the temptation when he’s throwing himself at you. A few years ago when I was trying to get over Ladybug, if she had started accidentally kissing me while I was dating my one friend, I don’t know that I would have been able to resist either, so I can kind of understand your dilemma. Can we please just blame Adrien for this and move on?”

Deep trenches plowed their way across Marinette’s brow as she tried to understand what was happening.

“You’re not mad,” she observed in confusion. “Why aren’t you mad?”

“Because I love you and want you to be happy,” Chat responded quickly in a minimal effort to keep his identity secret since she was so opposed to knowing.

“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not jealous at all.”

A twinge of hurt filtered into her expression.

“You don’t care that I cheated on you,” she deciphered.

“Marinette, of course I care,” he protested weakly, not entirely sure that he cared if this was how she figured him out. “I just don’t…” He bit his tongue. “I’m not angry.”

A troubled look settled upon her features. “But…don’t you love me? This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m not mad because I cheated on you too,” he blurted out before she could start to think that he didn’t really love her.

Marinette’s eyes went wide before a wounded expression took over, making her shrink slightly as her shoulders rose and she curled in on herself.

“I kissed Adrien too!” he hurriedly invented, falling back on the one person whom he had free reign to throw under the bus.

Marinette’s rapidly changing emotions instantly went back to bafflement as she gawked at her boyfriend. “You…what?”

“I kissed Adrien,” he asserted, deciding that that was his hill to die on now. “A couple times. He told you that we’re friends, right? That I visit him sometimes?”

She nodded, trying to piece things together so that they made sense. She wasn’t having much success getting the edges to line up.

“Well, I mean, he’s very attractive,” he tried to explain, fearing he was doing a poor job and making himself out to be fickle, “and I feel an emotional connection with him because we’re so similar,” he hastily added.

That was better.

“He gets things that other people don’t really understand, so I can talk to him about anything, and we’re both kind of going through a sexuality crisis, so…” He shrugged helplessly. “It just felt natural to experiment together.”

“O-Oh,” she choked, a red stain spreading over her cheeks not just from her earlier bout of tears.

“I think I’m bi,” his mouth confessed even as his brain panicked, screaming at him that there was too much truth coming out in this lie. “I’m kind of freaking out about it, honestly, because my father’s either going to not care or disown me. The first option hurts, and the second one is terrifying, and I didn’t tell you because, even though I know you have queer friends, I wasn’t so sure you’d want to keep dating a guy who likes other guys, and I am devastatingly in love with you, Marinette,” he laughed mirthlessly, choking as a hardy stream of tears broke free and rushed forth down his cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you, and I’m just so scared of being rejected. I know she didn’t mean to, but the whole thing with Ladybug really messed me up, and I was messed up to start with because of my parents, so—”

She didn’t hesitate any longer, pulling him into her arms and squeezing tight.

“Shhh,” she cut him off gently. “Shhh, Minou. It’s okay.”

She eased him down onto the bed with her, petting his hair, nuzzling his face, and making soothing shushing noises. “It’s okay, My Love. I would never push you away for being who you are. I love all of you. This doesn’t change anything.”

“It doesn’t?” he replied hoarsely.

She shook her head, nuzzling his temple as she did so. “No, Beloved. Nothing is ever going to make me stop loving you. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me something like that ever again. I will never reject you.”

“Oh,” he sniffled, feeling calmer as he listened to the steady thrum of her heartbeat and soaked up the warmth of her skin. “Then, I’m glad that I just blurted that out like that because I’ve kind of been struggling with this for…” He tried to think back and remember when he’d first started to notice that he was noticing other guys, but his memory came up blank. There was the almost-kiss with Luka at Christmas, but that was just when it had all come to a head. It had started even before that. “…it’s been a while,” he concluded with a sigh.

“Oh, Minou,” she whispered, a sick feeling rising up in her gut. “I wish I’d known. I wish I could have done something for you. It hurts to know that you were suffering on your own like that and didn’t feel like you could say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled meekly, cat ears drooping as if he’d been chastised. “I mean, I should have known that I could tell you, but I was afraid that—”

“—Chat Noir, no,” she interrupted, cupping his face in her hands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I understand. I just hope that you know now for next time that you can tell me anything and it won’t change how I feel about you.”

“Thanks,” he sniffled, a watery smile slowly forming on his lips. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m not used to the idea of not having to be afraid that someone’s going to stop loving me. I mean, I know you’re supposed to be able to count on your parents always loving you, but…that’s not true in my case, so if not even my parents love me, I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust that anyone else will.”

“And I’m not doing a good job of proving it to you either,” she sighed, the bottom dropping out of her stomach. “I’m sorry for failing you, Chat Noir.”

“You didn’t fail me, Marinette,” he protested wearily, nuzzling her collarbone. “You’re doing your best, and your best is pretty good. I mean, you and Ladybug are probably the two people who have been the most unwavering in your love for me, even when I was being an intolerable brat, so…you haven’t failed me, Princess.”

“Still,” she whispered. “I can do better. I promise I’m going to do better,” she swore resolutely. “I’ll make you believe you’re lovable.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, blinking away tears. “That’s kind of a tall order. It’s going to take a lot of work.”

“I’ll manage,” she assured, closing the distance between them.

He was more than happy to sink into her kiss and lose himself in her lips.

It started out languid but quickly escalated as they both put all of their stress, fear, frustration, and the intensity of their feelings for one another into the kiss. One kiss became two, and two turned to a dozen until they both lost count, kissing each other breathless as the minutes blurred together.

Chat finally pulled back, and Marinette gave a lusty moan of protestation.

“Oh, were you enjoying yourself?” he chuckled as he propped himself up on his forearms, obviously proud of the effect he had on her.

She gave his arm a light smack. “You’re lucky that smug grin of yours is sexy. …I’m still thinking about kissing it clean off your face, though.”

“Maybe in a bit,” he laughed, dropping his head to nuzzle her shoulder. “I think I need to catch my breath first.”

Marinette took a deep inhale, trying not to squirm as she attempted to calm her raging hormones. A bit of a needy whimper escaped as she breathed out.

He raised an eyebrow in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Her entire face flushed as she gave him a plaintive look, willing him to understand without her having to say anything.

He continued to stare at her obliviously. “Marinette? Are you okay?”

“How are you not as worked up as I am right now?” she groaned bluntly.

His eyes grew to the size of spools of thread. “O-Oh,” he replied dumbly, internally panicking. “I…I’m sorry. I…”

His mind was racing. He didn’t know what to say, how to justify his lack of a physical response to her.

Marinette pursed her lips, trying not to grimace. “Are you…asexual too?”

How believable was it for Adrien and Chat Noir to both be biromantic asexual, he wondered.

“Minou,” she called gently, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “If you are, you can tell me. Or, if it’s something else, you can tell me that too. Whatever it is, it’s fine. It’s not going to make me love you any less, okay?”

He took a shuddering breath and blew it out. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Are you asexual?” she tentatively asked again.

He gulped and nodded.

She patted his cheek and gave him a bolstering smile. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

“Marinette, I know that sex is something you want in a relationship,” he rushed to assure her. “I know it’s a big deal, and I know it’s kind of a deal breaker, so I just want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy,” he stressed, desperate for her to know so that she wouldn’t dump him. “I promise I’ll find a way to make things work.”

“Chat Noir,” she breathed, a darker note of concern in her voice.

Her brow scrunched into a frown.

He tensed.

“I would never make you do something you didn’t want to do,” she explained slowly and solemnly, making sure that he understood. “And this isn’t something you have to figure out on your own. This is something we figure out together as a couple. We’re partners, Chat Noir. We’re in this together.”

He laid his head down on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight in gratitude. “Thank you,” he choked, trying not to let the tears of relief fall.

She nuzzled and pet his hair, shushing him gently. “You’re welcome, Beloved, but there’s no thanks necessary.”

He melted into her embrace, purring softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. He lay there for nearly a minute, soaking up her affection before a thought popped into his head, and he hastily pushed himself up to look at her.

She jumped, startled by his sudden movement.

“Sorry,” he rushed to explain. “It just occurred to me that you might still be…” A scarlet blush leaked out from under his mask. “…uh…uncomfortable. Sorry. It’s not like with guys where there’s a fairly clear physical indicator, so…” His cheeks turned redder. “What do you need?”

After setting aside how mortified she felt, Marinette decided that she was touched that he cared and had thought to ask.

She was still a little riled up, and the prospect of them doing something about that… She was completely in favour. But she could tell he wasn’t comfortable. He wasn’t ready.

“Sorry,” he added before she could reply, averting his eyes as his blush spread down his neck and disappeared under the collar of his suit. “I have literally zero experience with this. I don’t know how this works for girls. I mean, I’ve seen anatomy drawings before, but—”

“—You don’t have to apologize,” she assured, scratching behind his ear. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking. That means a lot to me. I just…need to calm down,” she explained.

“Oh,” he sighed in relief, giving her a nervous smile. “Good.”

There was a beat, and then she gave into her curiosity and asked, “Your parents didn’t ever have ‘the talk’ with you, did they?”

He groaned, looking away as he replied in a resentful mutter, “When I was twelve, they pretty much just threw a book at me, and when I tried to ask questions, Maman told me to talk to my father, but Father was busy, so he kind of gave me the brush off, so…” He shook his head, looking miserable. “I kind of got the impression that sex was gross but you had to do it if you wanted to have children, so people went along with it. But then at school when everyone talked about it, it was clear that it was something they wanted and looked forward to and weren’t weirded out by, so…”

He rested his head on the pillow, his face against her arm, and she could feel his tears.

“I mean…I’ve always been different from other people my age thanks to my upbringing. This was just one more thing about me that was…b-broken.” His voice cracked, and the tears of humiliation and regret began to fall faster.

She wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him back in and just holding him.

“I just kept my mouth shut unless someone asked me why I wasn’t sleeping with anyone. I’ve used pretty much every excuse. I’ve said I was religious, I wanted to wait for marriage so it’d be special, that I’d been touched inappropriately by fans trying to rip my clothes off so I was traumatized, I hadn’t found the right person yet, I had found the right person but she wanted to wait, fears about getting someone pregnant, concern about scandal…I said whatever I had to say to make it socially acceptable for me to still be a virgin. Some people still gave me trouble and called me a prude, but…”

“…When did you find out about being asexual?” she inquired gently.

“About a year ago, I guess?” he mumbled against her skin. “You know Luka Couffaine?”

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Yeah?”

“We’re friends,” Chat explained. “We’ve grown closer over the past two years. You know how some people are, like, the ‘mom-friend’ of the group?”

She nodded.

“Luka’s totally a mom-friend,” he chuckled. “I don’t have people I can talk to at home, but I can talk to Luka. He’s kind of adopted me, so… So, I was telling Luka about something a coworker said about me being a virgin that bothered me, and Luka told me about asexual people…and it just clicked. Things made sense.”

Marinette gave him a squeeze. “I’m really glad you had Luka there for you and were able to figure things out.”

“Me too,” Chat hummed, tears drying. “…Thanks for listening to me talk.”

“Thank you for talking to me,” she countered. “Seriously, Minou. Even though I can’t know your identity, I still want to know everything I can about you. I want to know all the important things, so…please tell me. …If you feel comfortable, that is.”

Slowly, he began to nod. “Okay. I…I’m glad you want to know, that you’re interested in my life.”

“I’m definitely interested,” she laughed, and he chuckled along until they fell into a comfortable silence.

It was a while before Chat Noir spoke again. “…Hey. We’re okay, aren’t we? Things are all right between us?”

He lifted his head to study her face intently.

“Of course,” she hastened to assure, surprised that he’d had any doubt. “I love you, Chat Noir. I’m not upset about the Adrien thing, and it didn’t sound like you were mad at me either, so…I think we’re all right. Do you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed happily. “It’s like a weight off my back finally talking to you about the Adrien thing.”

She bit her lip and reluctantly asked, “So…what exactly are we going to do about the Adrien thing?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “Nothing?”

She blinked, repeating, “‘Nothing’?”

“I’m okay if you keep seeing him,” he clarified. “I know you really do have feelings for him, and I know that he’s crazy in love with you, so…”

Marinette stared at her boyfriend, waiting for his words to suddenly make sense. “You’re okay if I keep cheating on you?”

“It’s not cheating if I say it’s okay,” he rebutted. “Anyone else is off limits, but Adrien is okay.”

She kept staring, not comprehending. “You really don’t mind?”

He winced. “So…I mean…I know it’s not exactly orthodox, but…people can have feelings for more than one person at a time, and there’s nothing wrong with that so long as everyone agrees and keeps on the same page.”

Marinette pressed her lips together into a thin, tight line. “…Chat Noir, there’s a difference between having feelings for two people and making out with two people.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Have you ever heard of polyamory?”

“Vaguely?” She waited for him to go on.

“It’s when a group of people sit down and talk and decide to be in a committed relationship involving more than two people,” Chat tried his best to explain, trying to recall how Luka had described it to him. “You have to talk a lot and set ground rules so no one feels left out or neglected or jealous, but… It’s not cheating because everyone agrees about what they’re going to do and what they’re not going to do, so…”

“You’re…suggesting that I date both you and Adrien at the same time?” she summarized, still trying to wrap her head around the idea.

He nodded eagerly. “That way you never have to feel guilty about anything you do with him, and I won’t have to feel guilty either because he’ll be our boyfriend, so it’ll be okay.”

She gave a start. “You’re going to date him too?”

Chat shrugged. “Sure. If he’s interested. I mean, things between us aren’t exactly…you know…like that, but… Is that okay?”

She thought about it for a moment, reasoning that two asexual guys weren’t going to get up to too much she needed to be concerned with and that it wasn’t like Chat Noir was in love with Adrien or anything, so it wasn’t like he was going to leave her, so…

“Okay.” She started to nod. “Yeah. Okay. So…Adrien and I start dating for real, you and I keep dating, and…that’s it?”

“Yep,” he agreed. “Just don’t leave me for him, okay?”

“Oh, Chat Noir,” she cooed, pulling him in for a smooch. “The whole reason we’re in this mess in the first place is that I can’t imagine my life without either one of you. I couldn’t choose…and I don’t foresee that changing anytime soon.”

“Oh,” he hummed contentedly, savoring the cozy warmth of the moment and her words. “Good.”

“Besides,” she snickered. “I am ticked at him. I can’t believe he told you.”

“Princess,” Chat groaned. “Please don’t. He did it because he loves you and couldn’t bear to see you suffering anymore.”

“And that that slut seduced my boyfriend,” she giggled.

“…You’re joking, right?” He couldn’t quite be sure. “The last thing I wanted was to ruin your friendship with Adrien, Marinette.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured. “I’m mostly joking. I am upset with him, but…he’s too important to me to lose.”

Chat’s heart swelled with happiness at knowing that he was so special to her on both sides of the mask.

“I just need to yell at him, talk it out, get it out of my system,” she sighed, “…apologize, beg for forgiveness, make him hummingbird cake pops… Things between me and Adrien are going to be all right, Chat Noir, so don’t worry. I’m through screwing things up.”

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to contain the large grin of adoration that broke out on his lips.

“Love you too.” She punctuated the sentiment with a kiss.

#Marichat #Adrinette #Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Kissing #Writing Prompt #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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love-little-lotte · 4 years

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My Ranking of Outlander Season 5 Episodes

Wow. This has been such a great season! It really felt fresh and well-made. It’s like we’re thrown back to earlier seasons, and I love it so much. The writing is a whole lot better; the direction is creative and new – but never to a point that it got dreary and boring; there is a significant amount of change that I really liked. Overall, a brilliant and amazing season.

I’ve done something like this from the previous season (click here, if you’re interested), and now I guess I’m doing it again! It’s a lot harder, though, because I really liked most of the Season 5 episodes. I even wish it was longer! Twelve episodes seemed so short. I wish we could back to earlier episodes when we have more than fifteen episodes for one season.

So, to start off my Droughtlander (ugh, I cry thinking about Season 6 – it seems so far away), this is my ranking of Outlander Season 5 episodes! Before I begin, let me just say that this is my opinion, so please be polite. No need to tell me that you prefer this over that because obviously, this is my ranking. Also, just so you know, I haven’t read The Fiery Cross. I’ve only read Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, and the first few chapter of Voyager. So, I may make mistakes about what happened in the books and such, since I only watch the TV show.

#12: Episode 3 - Free Will

Technically not a bad episode, but this is the one that I least liked out of all. It was a bit draggy, but definitely not boring. Nothing is boring when Jamie and Claire faces danger together!

So, in this episode, Josiah revealed that he has a twin named Keziah. They both escaped from the Beardsleys, who apparently abused the both of them. But without their right papers, the twins were not really free. So, of course, Jamie and Claire just had to save the day and take it upon themselves to go to the Beardsleys and pay for their indenture. Also, Jamie left Roger in charge while he’s gone. It’s funny to see Roger try to lead the men. It’s not his fault by all means – after all, this was not his time and he has zero knowledge how to lead these soldiers.

At the Beardsleys, Jamie and Claire found out that Mr. Beardsley was incredibly injured and at the brink of death, while Mrs. Beardsley was pregnant and admitted that she’s slowly torturing her husband because he used to physically abuse her. Claire helped Mrs. Beardsley give birth, only to find out that the baby was dark-skinned, which meant it wasn’t Mr. Beardsley’s child. The next morning, the missus was out of the house (wow, that recovery!), leaving her newborn baby in Jamie and Claire’s care. Jamie then faced a tough decision to euthanize Mr. Beardsley, who wanted his pain to end. Something tells me that this is going to be an important thing in the future...

#11: Episode 5 - Perpetual Adoration

Also not a bad episode, to be honest. In this episode, we get another flashback of Claire’s time in the 60s. This time, she’s seen treating a patient by the name of Graham Menzies. Sounds familiar? I’ve read that it’s a nod to Graham McTavish and Tobias Menzies – two of my favorite actors from the earlier seasons. Loved that reference to them; I also miss seeing them in this show! (But maybe Tobias as Frank because I could not, for the life of me, handle another Black Jack Randall shenanigan, even just in a flashback.) Well, this particular patient was actually Claire’s reason to finally go back to Scotland with Bree. It got a bit philosophical in the flashbacks, too! Also, Claire was able to make penicillin out of 18th century materials. Is there anything that this woman couldn’t do?

Jamie, on the other hand, was catching up with Lieutenant Knox, where the lieutenant told him that he’s going to pardon the Regulators, except Murtagh. This left Jamie no choice but to kill Knox – also because he has a list of Ardsmuir prisoners and as you all know, Jamie’s one of them. Pretty sad about Knox, though. He really trusted Jamie and he seemed like an okay guy. But he had to die!

Bree and Roger also had some problems in this episode. Roger finally found out about what happened with Stephen Bonnet and Bree before they tried to blew up the jail cell the previous season. Roger obviously (but not understandably hmpf) got mad but eventually changed his mind when Claire reassured him that it’s going to be all right. I’m not a big fan of Roger (let’s just get that out of the way), and his reaction in this particular episode. For the sake of drama, I guess.

Also, a new pet is in town! Adso finally made his first appearance at the end of this episode. He’s such a cute wee thing.

#10: Episode 2 - Between Two Fires

One of my favorite things in Outlander is when Claire flaunts her medical knowledge to the 18th century people. I love seeing their expressions, especially when they try to mentally calculate if this woman is a genius or a witch. Sadly, in this episode, there’s one patient Claire couldn’t save because it was too late. This seemed to unravel something in her. It’s devastating to lose a patient, especially when he/she could still be saved. But, even though she’s an expert healer, some people wouldn’t listen to her because she’s not an actual physician. So, Claire decided to make up “Dr. Rawlings.”

Also, I love that Claire picked Marsali as an apprentice! I really loved her character even from Season 3, and I was hoping to get more scenes with her in Season 4. But it was only in this season that her character shined brightly. Marsali was weirded out at first, obviously, but with Claire’s guidance, she’s good to go.

All away from Fraser’s Ridge, Jamie and Lieutenant Knox are fighting off Regulators. While confronting three prisoners, Knox lost his temper and accidentally killed one. At nightfall, Jamie helped the other two to escape. I love Jamie whenever he’s trying to be a hero and all, but sometimes, it just worries too much that he’s always stepping it up. Well, he’s the King of Men, I guess.

The ending of this episode was horrifying and intense because we see Stephen Bonnet, fully alive and plotting evil. I hate him so much, but Ed Speelers is an amazing actor.

#09: Episode 9 - Monsters and Heroes

Despite having this episode in the bottom part of the list, I just want to say that Sam Heughan was amazing in this episode. His acting was top-notch, and I find myself, once again, questioning the awards committee why they haven’t given him an award. Yes, give me more scenes of him writhing in pain!

This episode was highly intense, but it felt almost too draggy. Jamie and company were out hunting when they decided to split up. Jamie and Roger went together, and Jamie was bitten by a venomous snake. Roger tried to look for the others but to no avail. So they decided to camp for the night, in which Jamie told Roger that if he does not survive, it must be him who’s going to kill Stephen Bonnet for him.

Which absolutely no makes sense! Not the killing of Bonnet, but Jamie not surviving. He survived tons of other crap in his life, and I cannot believe he’s dying from a freaking snake. It just does not makes sense. Can you just imagine if he really died? Like a small snake ended Jamie Fraser’s life? It’s just heartbreaking.

The next day, Roger tried dragging Jamie with him while looking for the others. They were eventually found, and they brought him to Claire so she can fix him up. But not even Claire could even save him. The only thing she needs is her syringe, which was destroyed by friggin Lionel Brown (which, let me tell you, is the worst character to ever come out in this season). When Jamie found out his bite was way serious than he ever imagined, he told Claire to kill him instead of amputating his venom-filled leg, which broke Claire. Also, Caitriona Balfe’s acting during her conversation with Bree by the stairs was top-notch!

Jamie almost gave up that night, but with some intense body touching, Claire was able to bring him back to life. It was a touching moment, for sure. Get it? Anyway, it was Young Ian who told him to get a grip of himself – it’s just a leg. His father lost a leg and Fergus lost a hand, but they’re still happy and alive. Which I just want to applause to.

And when all hope seemed lost, it was our little engineer Bree who saved the day! She was able to form a syringe of her own using the tooth of the snake which bit Jamie. Through this, Claire was able to save Jamie’s leg. Yay!

#08: Episode 10 - Mercy Shall Follow Me

I know I’ve said I haven’t read The Fiery Cross yet, but I have read in tons of posts that the killing of Stephen Bonnet was not part of the aforementioned book; he actually met his demise in the next book. But whatever the reasons why they sped up the process, I want to thank the producers and writers for putting it here in this season. The Bonnet storyline was kind of losing touch and was getting draggy. I’d rather have them focus on new things in the next season.

Jamie, Roger, and Young Ian were putting their plot in motion to kill Bonnet through ambushing him when Bonnet himself failed to show up in the said ambush. That’s because he’s at the beach, following Claire and Bree as they were enjoying the ocean breeze. He eventually knocked Claire unconscious and kidnapped Bree.

Bree woke up to find herself in a dingy and shady place, but she was not kept as a prisoner – or so Bonnet tried to tell her. He told her he wanted to change and they even had this strange role play where they eat dinner and Bree told him the story of Moby Dick. We actually get to know Bonnet’s past in this episode. We learn that he’s deathly afraid of water, for one thing.

It seemed to go all right for Bree until Bonnet told her to kiss him, and when she did, he got the sense that she was faking and lo and behold, he was right. This angered him and even started having sex with a prostitute in front of Bree, which was downright disgusting. Anyway, Ed Speelers is a terrific actor!

Jamie and Claire finally find out where Bonnet’s hiding Bree through that prostitute to whom Bonnet was having sex with. Bonnet, fed up with Bree’s ridiculous antics, decided to sell her to a man. But before anything could happen, Jamie, Claire, Roger, and Young Ian were able to save her. Bree was given the choice to end Bonnet’s life, but she decided to give him a fair trial by the government. Bonnet was sentenced to death by drowning, but before he could even die, Bree shot him through the head in a distance. Roger asked her if this was what she wanted or if was to make sure he’s really dead, but Bree was silent, which leaves us to decide what that meant.

I’ve said this before: I wasn’t a fan of Sophie Skelton’s acting, but she definitely improved in this season! She was able to show some emotions and depth in her character. She was unable to convince me before, but she truly made an impact in this season.

#07: Episode 4 - The Company We Keep

Were you ready to see Jamie Fraser dancing in this episode? Because I sure as hell was not! It was such a delight to see him trotting about while he and Claire smile at each other.

But before we got to that scene, we had to watch Roger painfully lead the men to Brownsville (which is totally an insane and ridiculous name for a village – I know this was in the 18th century, but I hope there were poop jokes about them). Not a minute they stepped foot in this place, everything’s gone to chaos. It turns out Isaiah Morton, one of the men, had some problems with one of the guys in Brownsville. Isaiah apparently “disgraced” Lionel Brown’s daughter, Alicia, by sleeping with her, and now she cannot marry this rich guy her father arranged for her.

Jamie and Claire eventually caught up with them, and were able to free Isaiah by letting him escape and to never show his face there again. Claire finally found a new home for Mrs. Beardsley’s newborn baby in Brownsville, Jamie finally got the Brownsville men to join him in his militia to fight the Regulators, and everyone finally had a good time and partied all night long.

One of my favorite moments in the season was in this episode wherein Jamie told Claire that she looked happy while taking care of the newborn baby. He told her that she looked great as a mother, and it saddened me that he never got to see her as one. Jamie told her if she’s sure to give the baby away because maybe it’s their last chance to raise a baby together. Claire was like, “No,” but she appreciated the thought of it. They’re too old to have a baby again, and she already liked their life together. Even so, that was such a sweet moment for the both of them!

Isaiah decided to return to whisk Alicia away, and then she revealed she’s pregnant with his child. While this all seemed great for them, Jamie and Roger were not happy with Isaiah’s return because it might stir up some trouble. But Isaiah was able to convince them that he truly loved Alicia and wouldn’t they do the same thing for their wives. And that’s how it’s done!

#06: Episode 8 - Famous Last Words

A very unique and creative episode. I think I haven’t seen an episode quite like this before, and it’s such a breath of fresh air. I like what the concept of showing the events like a silent film in comparison to what Roger’s facing.

Richard Rankin was amazing in this episode. I think he really delivered well in showing Roger’s trauma and stress after his horrific ordeal. Roger is actually so beaten up in Outlander; it’s really devastating. Last season, he was taken by the Mohawks, and now this. And to think, he wasn’t a warrior or anything – he’s only an Oxford man.

Three months after the Battle of Alamance, Roger was still quiet and could not utter a word. Bree was worried about him, and confided to Claire about her roommate’s boyfriend who was shell-shocked after the Vietnam War. Meanwhile, Roger kept reliving his deathly experience in silence. Usually, I’m not a big fan of Roger (as I said earlier) but I feel bad for what his character has gone through.

Also, Young Ian finally came back in this episode! As someone who haven’t read the books, this took me by surprise. I didn’t know he’s returning, but I am so happy that he is! I really love his character. He’s not the same Young Ian as we’ve seen before, though. He was much more mature and fiercer. There are secrets he’s keeping from his family, which we’ll probably find out more in the next season.

It was actually Young Ian who made Roger speak up again (quite just like the way how he was the one who set Jamie straight when he was bitten by the snake). Ian was asked to help Roger check out some land, and the two of them bonded. Ian told him how lucky he was to have his wife and child with him, even though he was thoroughly beaten from the battle. Roger was alive with a family, and to Ian, that seemed to be everything. Roger, in return, also saved Ian from killing himself. I’d like to see more of this duo in the future, please.

#05: Episode 6 - Better To Marry Than Burn

As soon as the trailer for Season 5 dropped, I’ve heard the words “stable sex” more than once in forums. I didn’t know what it was about – only that involves Jamie and Claire having sex in a stable (obviously). So you could imagine my enthusiasm when I finally see a stable in this episode!

Before that, though, there is a party because Jocasta getting married to some guy who’s not Murtagh. Which is a total loss because I shipped them so hard! We also got to see some flashbacks with Jocasta losing her daughter because of her husband’s cause in the fight against the English long ago.

While mingling with some of the guests, Claire was approached by this ridiculous-looking man called Phillip Wylie, who’s beyond annoying. He flirted with her shamelessly, and she rejected his actions but was immediately interested when she realized he might be the key to capture Stephen Bonnet. But everything got out of hand when he suddenly tried to kiss her. Thankfully, Jamie arrived on time and was able to save her from this man.

But when Claire told him that he might be the answer to the Bonnet problem, Jamie decided to make a gamble with Wylie. Unfortunately, this involved Claire giving up Frank’s ring, which made her unbelievably mad. Later on, when Claire went back to the stables, Jamie drunkenly walked in. Claire’s still angry with him about the rings, but the anger doubled when she found out he was drunk. Jamie told her that he won the bet, and that they should celebrate. There were some fights, then Claire slapped him, and then they kissed and ta-da: stable sex!

Unfortunately, I had high hopes with what the stable sex was going to be and that was not it. I was expecting steamier scenes, but okay, I’ll take this one. It was hilarious, still.

Oh, I almost forgot. Back at Fraser’s Ridge, Bree and Roger fight some some sort of locusts evading the place, just like the ten plagues. But they were able to stop this through some smart science and shit. I couldn’t care less about their plot in this episode; all exciting things happen in River Run at the moment!

But the most heartbreaking thing that ever happened in this episode was Jocasta and Murtagh. The night before the wedding, Murtagh sneaked in Jocasta’s room and begged her not to marry Innes. This broke Jocasta, but still, she couldn’t just run away with Murtagh. She chose a man with a cause before, and she lost her daughter. This woman couldn’t take any heartbreaks anymore, and Murtagh left, heartbroken. And as you know, that would be their last conversation...

#04: Episode 12 - Never My Love

I thought we can go past one season without anyone getting raped, but here we are. I know this was included in the books, but there were so many changes from book to screen in this season – why couldn’t they changed this one? It was too heartbreaking and sad. I don’t know if it’s unnecessary, but I did read one article that said they could’ve just not included that part.

Anyway, this episode was absolutely harrowing and downright terrifying. This show does not shy away from brutal scenes like this, for sure. I am devastated for Claire because she obviously does not deserve that treatment! In her own words, she survived a World War and losing a child. She will not let this one destroy her. But, of course, Claire’s only human and she’s gone through deep trauma in this episode. It’s only fair for her to feel this way.

Lionel Brown (honestly, I hate this guy more than anyone in this season and that includes Stephen Bonnet) kidnapped Claire out of her own home with the help of some other guys, beat her senseless, and even raped her. This really “shookt” me out of my core. It didn’t ruin me like that season finale in Season 1 (which still haunts me to this day) but I am still horrified.

Also, this episode was really creative in showing Claire’s ordeal. It had dream sequences of Claire in 1960s with Jamie and their family celebrating Thanksgiving, with the exception of Bree, Roger, and Jemmy. It included a lot of Easter eggs, such as the vase from the pilot episode and the rabbit from Jamie’s dream in the Battle of Culloden (if I’m not mistaken...?) The production design was also very intricate. The attention to details is brilliant!

Jamie and his men were finally able to save Claire, but she felt ruined. They killed every men in the group, but it seemed like Lionel survived. They took him as a prisoner and brought him to Fraser’s Ridge. Claire was still mending her scars, but she found herself in her clinic with Lionel and Marsali. Yes, she took an oath to do no harm to other people, but do you really expect her to save him from his wounds after what he’s done to her? Hell no! It was too much for her to bear and so she left, crying. It was actually Marsali who ended Lionel’s life with her own hand. Ugh, I love Marsali this season! She was beyond amazing and I love how her character has grown.

This was surely an intense episode, and I love the additional twists of the dream sequence. Caitriona Balfe blew me away in this episode; just give her the Golden Globe and Emmy, please. The final shot of Jamie and Claire is beautiful. One of the best season finales of the show.

#03: Episode 1 - The Fiery Cross

Season 5 really started strong with this first episode. We had a wedding, dancing, sex, singing, burning crosses, kilts, babies! I love it so much!

Finally, Bree’s getting married to Roger, and her parents are here to see it! It’s a wonderful moment for everyone. I am in love with Bree’s dress and the pearls she’s wearing (which her mother wore in her honeymoon sex with her father, let me just add). The wedding was sweet and lighthearted.

But, of course, this is Outlander and we’re not here to have a good time – there’s always something we’re fighting off. In the very first episode, Lord John Grey confided in Jamie that Stephen Bonnet might be alive, which Bree overheard. This was her wedding night, people, give her a rest! Of course, she was visibly shaken, but she kept the information to herself. Also, Tryon was pressuring Jamie to join forces with him and fight for The Crown.

In addition, there were a love-making montage while the L-O-V-E song was being played in the background. Out of place, for sure, but sweet nonetheless. Murtagh and Jocasta managed to sneak in the woods and have some time for themselves. Jamie and Claire were in charge with Jemmy for the night, but that didn’t stop them from getting some action themselves. And, of course, the married couple Bree and Roger finally had a proper honeymoon.

Remember when Tryon was pressuring Jamie to gather some men to fight for The Crown? Well, Jamie faced an impossible decision because obviously he does not want to hunt down his godfather Murtagh. But he can’t also betray Tryon because he doesn’t want to lose his land. And so, he finally gave in and lit the fiery cross, calling the men to fight with him. He included Roger, and even gave him the title of “Captain.” Weird flex, but okay.

This was entirely a good start for a good season. I even watched it twice when it first came out because I was so excited!

#02: Episode 11 - Journeycake

One of the best Outlander episodes, and this one totally made me cry. I hate goodbyes, but Outlander does it best. This episode was also written by the original author herself, Diana Gabaldon. My expectations were high, of course, and she definitely did not disappoint!

Now that Stephen Bonnet is gone and that they have confirmed that Jemmy can travel through the stones, there’s no reason for Bree and Roger to stay any longer. Bree has already delivered the cryptic message to her parents that they will die in the fire. So, she and Roger decided to leave, especially that there’s a Revolutionary War coming on.

Also, Young Ian finally knows about the truth about Claire, Bree, and Roger – they are time travelers from the future. About time, actually! He deserved to know the truth long time ago. But something’s weird: Ian actually wanted to go through the stones himself, too. I have no idea why, but it’s probably going to be about his time with the Mohawks (which I’m totally looking forward to know about in the next season).

Also, there’s a hot sex scene with Claire and Jamie in this episode, which totally makes up for that awkward, rushed stable sex from the other episode. It involved Jamie going down on Claire while she’s sitting by the window pane. It’s daring and steamy! Trust Diana Gabaldon to perfect that scene.

Before Bree and Roger leave, they said their goodbyes to everyone first. Marsali even admitted that she sees Bree as a sister, which breaks my heart, because they totally deserve more screen time together! Lizzie also tearfully said her goodbye to her mistress Bree, and it’s quite heartbreaking because all this time, she thought she’s coming along with them as well. Poor Lizzie.

Claire also made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as her last meal for Bree and Roger. I don’t know how she was able to make peanut butter and jelly with 18th century resources, but I do know that it was painstakingly hard so kudos to Claire for her dedication in making the perfect PB&J sandwich! Jamie’s reaction was totally hilarious, too!

When Bree and Roger finally left (but for some reason, they couldn’t go through the stones – more explanation maybe in the next season), Claire and Jamie were finally left alone in Fraser’s Ridge. While Claire and Marsali were tending on a patient, Jamie and some of his men checked out some commotion. However, this was only a ploy for Lionel Brown and his men to kidnap Claire straight from her home. It’s terrifying, and I didn’t like what happened next.

#01: Episode 7 - The Ballad of Roger Mac

The major highlight of the season! I was ready to get hurt in this episode, but damn, nothing prepared me for what was about to happen.

The whole episode reminded me of the Prestonpans episode from Season 2. Jamie was fighting with his men in the Battle of Alamance, while Claire was tending the patients. Ah, but before that, let’s celebrate Jamie Fraser’s fiftieth birthday! I don’t know how this guy is 50, but he is. He and Claire *cough* did some celebrating of their own before shit went down in the fight.

While all the others were preparing for the fight, Bree was staying with Aunt Jocasta when she finally realized that the fight was going to take place in Alamance Creek. This made her remember an importance piece of history. The militia will win, and the Regulators will lose. Of course, she took it upon herself to warn her parents. Thankfully, Bree has inherited her mother’s memory cells.

Roger eventually volunteered to be the one to tell Murtagh and his men that they were doomed to fail, and Jamie let him. This was going on pretty smoothly, and Roger was able to tell Murtagh what he came for. Unfortunately, he ran into someone he knew (that woman he met in the ship from Season 4) and they were caught in a harmless innocent hug by the woman’s husband. The husband was none other than William Mackenzie, played by Graham McTavish! While it’s good to see him in the series again, I am pissed because they beat up Roger.

Meanwhile, Jamie was forced to wear a redcoat uniform, which was just downright offensive. Jamie’s entire life was dedicated to fighting off redcoats, and now he’s one of them. It truly broke my heart to see him like that. You just know he’s struggling and trying to keep his senses.

In the battle, Jamie was fighting with some Regulator when Murtagh himself showed up and saved him. There were some smiles; however, it was cut short when Murtagh was shot by one of Jamie’s militia men. Jamie tried to save him, and even dragged Murtagh back to Claire so she could save him, but it was all too late. And I am broken. I was crying when I was watching this episode, and it just broke me. Murtagh was one of my favorite characters, and I was so happy they brought him back last season. But now... I’m just broken. When the fight was over, Jamie took off the redcoat and just smashed it down in front of Tryon. This man was just fed up!

But while this was going on, Bree was worrying about Roger, as he still haven’t showed up after going to the Regulators. So, she, Claire, and Jamie tried looking for him. They finally came upon a tree with three men hanging on a tree with sacks over their heads; they were left to die. Jamie recognized Roger to be one of them because of the white handkerchief on his pocket that he had given to him earlier.

This was really a good episode, and hats off to Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe’s acting. They were superb. Oh, as well as Duncan Lacroix, who I really admired as Murtagh! It’s so sad to see him leave the show!

***

Well, there you have it! My ranking of Season 5 episodes. I hope you had as much fun as I did with Outlander this season. It was incredibly fun, and a huge improvement from previous season. Tell me what you think!

#outlander #outlander season 5 #caitriona balfe #sam heughan #sophie skelton #richard rankin #claire #jamie #bree #roger #outlander starz #outlander tv show #season 5

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deadsaigon · 5 years

Text

Kindred spirits || Carl Grimes

Summary: In a parallel universe where Carl is still alive, he experiences the events during the 9x15.

Warnings: Death, and yeah, a lot of cuteness and sadness. All at the same time.

Note: The flashbacks are in italics. Gif is not mine.

A/n: I've been working on this for a while, I hope you like it. Honoring my baby Carl, he deserved to live longer in the series. Requests are open. Sorry if it's too long, but I think is worthy to read. Hope you like it.

"I stand before you today at the start of a new tomorrow. A tomorrow made possible by the sacrifice of many over the years. Among them a man whose mission was to build community and strengthen the bonds between us. A man who had to destroy the very thing that connected us in order to save us. It took us far too long to fulfill the promise of what Rick Grimes and his son Carl, who is here with us, envisioned" King Ezekiel stoped his speech, due to the ovation that the people started when they heard the name of 'Carl', Carl was a living legend. He and Amunet were between the crowd. One of his arms was around her waist and her head was over his shoulder. When the people around them began to applaud him, Carl blushed a little and he thanked them with his hand. "The same promise, Paul Rovia, better known the most as Jesus believed in when he brought us all together those many years ago. We've always been bound to each other. We always will be. We fought our way back to each other. We've grown. The crossing over the river may be gone, but we rebuilt a bridge nonetheless. Today is the proof that we can unite, not against a common enemy but for the common good. So eat, drink, trade and be merry, cause we got a lot of lost time to make up for" Ezekiel ended his speech.

Jerry stood in front of all the people. "That the first Annual Inter-community Reunification Fair begins" He said.

"Jerry, we changed that" Ezekiel told him with a little smile. All the people laughed. "Carl, could you make me the honor to say some words and inaugurate this?" The King asked him. "Amunet, you can pass, too". Carl blushed again, but Amunet encouraged him. They hold hands and passed to the front.

"Mmm, hello" He said, he was so nervous but Amunet pressed harder his hand, trying to calm him down. "I would like to thank you all, for not abandoning my dad's dream, the dream he worked so hard for so many years, the dream he gave his life for: the dream of being a big and unite family." Carl reached the cage of the white doves. "That the Fair or the New Beginning begins" He finished by setting free the doves. The people started to applaud again, and yeah, Carl blushed, once more.

Once the people got disperse, Carl and Amunet started walking around the Fair. "You're so cute when you blush" Amunet said.

"Stop it" He answered.

"It's the true, you are adorable" She laughed. Carl take her from her waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her.

"I love you, Amunet"

"I love you too, Carl" Amunet and Carl met each other since the beginning of the chaos. They were friends in the Atlanta camp, in the Hershel's farm, in the prison, and they started dating when they arrived to Alexandria. They had been a couple for 8 years approximately. They had always support each other.

"Alexandria is granted to give asylum to Lydia" Carl spoke. The leaders of each community, Tara for The Hilltop, Carol and Ezekiel for The Kingdom, Rachel for OceanSide, and Carl and Michonne for Alexandria, were discussing about the fact of Lydia forming part of the communities now. Henry, Lydia, Judith and Amunet were also there.

"If her mother retaliates it's gonna be against Hilltop, not Alexandria" Tara said, she didn't seem to be happy with Lydia being around.

"Tara, remember when you stood in the prison with the Governor? You were our enemy. But Glenn saved you, and brought you with him. At the start, people didn't trust you, obviously, but we gave you the doubt benefit, and look how it come, now, you become part of the family" Carl told her and Tara seemed to understand what he was trying to say. "That's why we propose a mutual protection pact. If her mother wants to attack Hilltop, it won't be easy, cause she is going to have to fight the four communities. They mess with one, they mess with us all" Carl continued talking. Everyone in the place agreed.

"How do we seal it? A blood pact? Do we cross the pinkies?" Tara said making everyone laugh.

"I just got an idea" King Ezekiel said and searched for something. Finally, he found the agreement that Rick had made so many years ago.

"How do you have it?" Michonne asked.

"Maybe I took some things when I left Alexandria" Tara answered.

The first who signed it were King Ezekiel and Queen Carol, then Tara, it continued Rachel, and then, it was the turn of Alexandria. Michonne took the pen in her hand, but extended it to Carl. "It should be the Rick Grimes son" She said. Carl took the pen and signed the paper with 'Carl Grimes'. It was it, the mutual protection pact was signed.

Amunet and Judith stood next to Carl. "Carl you did it amazing!" The little girl said and give him a hug.

"Thank you Judith" Carl took the body of his little sister in his arms and carried her.

"Thank you, Carl. Thank you so much" Lydia said.

"It's okay Lydia, I couldn't let you alone. You are one of us now. Also, Henry needs you" Lydia and Henry laughed. When Henry went for Lydia, after Alpha took her from The Hilltop, Carl, Daryl and Connie searched for him. Daryl and Connie didn't understand Henry, but Carl did.

"So, that's how you make CPR to a person" Enid finished her explication. "Who wants to pass and do it with the doll?" Judith raised her hand. "Okay, Judith, let's see how you do it" The doctor said her. Judith stood near to the doll, and started to do the steps that Enid had explained before. "You did it very well, congratulations! Take a lollipop. That's all, thank you"

The people dispersed, and Carl walked to Enid. "Hey, my favourite cowboy is here" They hugged each other. "How are you doing? Did Amunet came?"

"Cool, I'm pretty cool. Yeah, Amunet is here too. How are you Enid? Or I should say 'doctor Enid'?"

"I always call you 'cowboy', you have the right to call me 'doctor'" Both laughed.

"I'm happy to see you, Enid"

"I'm happy too, Carl. It's been a long since the last time we see each other"

"But we saw us in The Hilltop, when Rosita and Eugene got in trouble"

"I know, but I refer, to see each other like this, like family, not like two strangers. I'm sorry for never had get back to Alexandria, but Maggie needed me here"

"And I'm sorry for never have go to Hilltop to visit you, but you know what happened with Michonne, I needed to stay in Alexandria taking care of Judith and Rick Jr."

"Maybe we can be the same best friends that we were"

"I'd love that"

"It's gonna be a little different, I'm not the same depressive Enid that used to hate everything and used to sneak out the walls"

"That Enid was pretty cool, tho"

"It was cool for the emo Carl you were in that time. The antique Enid doesn't fit with the famous leader Carl you are now. But the doctor Enid, she fits perfect"

"I'm not famous" "Of course you are. You know that the adults tell about 'the Grimes' to their children?"

"I've heard about that, but I didn't think it was true"

"It's true, Carl, everybody knows your story, and I'm so proud of you"

"Heeeeyyyy, you're talking without me? I feel betrayed" Amunet got into the conversation.

"We were about to look for you" Carl said.

"I'm gonna pretend that I believe you. Enid! I've missed you so much" Both women hugged each other.

"I've missed you too. What have you being doing in Alexandria?"

"I'm in charge of the hydraulic system that provides water to the community. Also, I'm in charge of the maintenance of the solar panels, and the power generators. If they don't work, I fix them" Amunet said proudly.

"Woah, did Eugene teach you that?" "Who more could it be? The dude is a freaking genie. I'm glad to say that Siddiq did a good job training you, doctor"

"Can you believe it? Six year ago we were only teenagers trying to survive in the end of the world, and now, look at us" Enid said.

"This shit is crazy"

"Language, Carl!"

"Judith, what are you doing here?"

"I want a caramel apple, can we get one?"

"Okay, come on. Ladies, I'll see you later" Carl kissed Amunet before going with his sister.

"You don't have to go. They can patrol the surroundings by themselves" Amunet said to Carl.

"It's okay. I'm gonna be fine. Daryl is going too"

"Yeah girl, I'll take care of him, even if he doesn't need it anymore" Daryl said.

"You should reconsider it" Michonne said.

"Mom, you are worrying to much"

"Mom is right, Carl, it's too dangerous. What if something bad happens to you?" Judith said sadly.

Carl kneeled to be at the same height that his sister and put his hands in her cheeks. "Judy, do you trust me?" The girl nodded. "I'm going out there because I want to help. I can't stay here pretending that everything is fine with those crazy people with skin masks around. I want to guarantee the safety of you three" He said to Amunet, Michonne and Judith. "I have to do it"

Judith jumped into Carl's arms. "Just be careful Carl, please" The girl said.

"Be prudent. And do what Daryl says, Okay?" Michonne told.

"The last time I listen to Daryl I was fifteen, but sure, I will" Michonne, Carl and Judith involved themselves into a warm hugged.

Amunet was the only left to say goodbye. "Promise me you'll get back"

"I do. I always get back to you"

"I can't loose you, don't make me get through that"

"You are not going to loose me. I'll be back" The couple shared a kiss full of love and hope.

"I love you so much" Amunet said.

"I love you more. I'll see you later. Don't forget that you have my heart and that you are the fucking love of my life"

"Carl! Language"

"Sorry, Judith"

"It's time to go" Daryl said.

"Daryl, please, protect him"

"I will. But you have to understand that he's not a kid anymore Michonne" The man said before the group conformed by Magna, Yumiko, Carol, Kal, Marco, Dianne, he and Carl left.

"What the hell is that?" Carl asked.

The group had meet with DJ, Alek and Ozzy. They had found a destroyed carriage and dead horses. "We don't know. The bodies that were in here are missing. They must had been going to the Fair" DJ said.

"Do you think they were them?" Carl asked again, making reference to the people with masks.

"I'd like to say no, but you are not dumb"

"We should separate. Daryl, Carol, Yumiko and I will follow the rast of the bodies, and try to find them. Magna, Dianne, Marco and Kal, get to The Hilltop, and make sure everything is okay. DJ, Ozzy, Alek, keep patrolling around here. Let's go" Carl ordered.

When Carl's group moved, Carol and Daryl kept watching at Carl. "What's wrong guys?" He asked them.

"You did it pretty well in there. Being a leader is your thing, kid" Carol said with a little smile.

"Your dad would be so proud" Daryl told.

"Please, stop. People have been saying stuff like that all day"

"You shouldn't be ashamed of that, Carl" Yumiko said.

"Can we just keep going?" Carl ended the conversation.

The day turned into night. Carl's group was still searching for the bodies of the people from the carriage. Suddenly, some walkers appeared in their way. "Take care, watch their hands, they could have knives" Carl said.

Walkers grew in number, and then, a body of 2 meters of height appeared in front of them. Carl, Yumiko, Carol and Dary prepared their weapons. "Drop them. I won't ask twice" Beta ordered. The four obeyed him, and the tall guy directed his voice at Carl. "You just had to give me the girl. Now that deal is over. You are coming with us"

Beta took them to the Whisperer camp, and tied them to a tree. Then, Alpha appeared. "You, one-eyed, come" She said and unleashed Carl. Ponting at him with a gun, she took him to a pit, where a big horde of walkers was in. "I hope I'm wrong saying that you can't take care of my daughter" Alpha said.

"You are. We will be the family that Lydia never had. She is better with us" Carl answered her.

"You and your people are alive because I let you live. But I'm done with you all. If you cross into my land, once more, I'll guide the horde to the communities. I've mark the border to the North, you see it as you leave. Now, reunite with the rest of your group and get away from my sight".

After Alpha let go Carl, Daryl, Carol and Yumiko, they found Siddiq roofed to a tree, he had some injuries and the eyes bended.

"Siddiq! What are you doing here?" Carl asked him.

Siddiq wasn't able to answer him, so Carl helped him to get up and to keep walking.

During the way back home, they saw it, they saw the final warning that Alpha was talking about: some heads in pikes, marking the border of the Whisperers' lands.

Ten heads. Ten reanimated heads. Ten reanimated heads of people they loved and cared about. Ten people that were gone. Ten people that had died in a horrible way.

Once Yumiko, Daryl, Carol, Siddiq and Carl were close enough to the heads, they could finally saw who they were. And that only disturbed them more.

First head.

Ozzy.

Ozzy was the leader of the Highway men. He was working with his men to get to chance to watch a movie, and he didn't was capable to do that.

Ozzy was working only a few hours, and now, his head was the first of ten.

Second head.

Alek.

Alek was the right hand of Ozzy, and a member of the Highway men.

He was working with Ozzy for a benefit for him and their people only a few hours ago, and now, his head was the second of ten.

Third head.

DJ.

DJ was a reformed Savior that rebuilt his life six years ago when he redeemed himself and took the invitation of living in Alexandria. Since then, he had shown his effort by making sure that the surroundings of the community were safe. And Carl appreciated that.

Carl felt sorry seeing his head, cause he had live and worked with him for a long time. DJ was the proof that a person can actually change for good.

DJ was talking with Carl about his concern about the possibility of the Whisperers were killing people only a few hours ago, and now, his head was the third of ten.

Fourth head.

Frankie.

"Hey, Nabila, have you seen Frankie?" Eugene asked to the woman. He and Frankie's daughter were looking for her, there had been a long time since the last time they had saw her.

But Nabila hadn't seen her, cause Frankie wasn't in the fair anymore.

Frankie used to be one of Negan's wives. After the Saviors' defeat, she was accepted in Alexandria, where she adopted a girl and became in a great mom.

Carl felt sorry too. Judith sometimes used to play with Frankie's daughter and some others kids, and Frankie had always watch them. Frankie had take care of Judith on several occasions and he was thankful for that.

She was hugging her daughter and enjoying the fair only a few hours ago, and now, her head was the fourth of ten.

Fifth head.

Tammy Rose.

"Have you seen Tammy?" Earl asked Connie and Kelly, with his son in his arms.

Kelly repeated the question with sign language, so Connie could understand.

The answer was no. The sisters hadn't seen her, Tammy wasn't near.

Tammy was an old lady that lived in Hilltop with his husband Earl. They had lost his son Ken six years ago. But life had give them happiness again with the arrived of a baby that Connie had rescue from The Whisperers.

Tammy was talking with Earl about how they should name their son only a few hours ago, and now, her head was the fifth of ten.

Sixth head.

Rodney

Rodney was a teenager that lived in Hilltop. He was trying to have a normal teenager life.

He was hanging around with his friends only a few hours ago, and now, his head was the sixth of ten.

Seventh head.

Addy.

Addy was other teenager from Hilltop. She had worries about the walkers, but also, she had some teenager worries, like, trying to make the guy you like to like you.

She was talking with Henry only a few hours ago, and now, her head was the seventh of ten.

Eighth head.

Enid.

"It feels so sweet" Alden and Luke were singing on the stage. They had a large audience, but still, Alden noticed that someone was missing. Someone special. Had she forgotten? of course not. she was eager to see her boyfriend sing and be able to make fun of it. If Enid wasn't there, it was because she wasn't in this world either.

Enid was a resident of Alexandria when Carl met her. She was mysterious and mature, things that made Carl to got interested in her, an also, to liked her. Both had a realistic perspective of the world, and they became best friends cause of that.

Now, Enid was a doctor. She had something worth to work for. She was an important member of her community. She was living the happy life that she always had deserved.

When Carl saw her, something cracked inside of him, his heart for sure. He couldn't deal with the fact of seeing his best friend's head on a pike. So, a tear fell down his cheek.

"No" He mumbled. "Not you".

Carl was being Siddiq's support, but at that moment, the roles got changed. Carl's legs shaked like he was about to fall. " It's okay, Carl, it's okay. Stay with me, please" Siddiq said.

"Hey, my favourite cowboy is here"

"I always call you 'cowboy', you have the right to call me 'doctor'"

"I know, but I refer, to see each other like this, like family, not like two strangers. I'm sorry for never had get back to Alexandria, but Maggie needed me here"

"Maybe we can be the same best friends that we were"

"It's true, Carl, everybody knows your story, and I'm so proud of you"

Memories of her didn't leave his mind. Memories of Enid being happy. Memories of his best friend for all life.

He remembered the first time she saw her, on that abandoned house at the entrance of Alexandria. He remembered the times that he followed in the woods and lost her from his sight. He remembered when they used to sneak out the walls and go into the woods to read comics. He remembered all the times that she gave him advices about his relationship. He remembered when they skated in their way to Hilltop. He remembered a lot of things that they could never do again.

He had lost his best friend and he couldn't get her back.

Enid was teaching people how to do CPR only a few hours ago. Enid was eating caramel apples with his boyfriend only a few hours ago. Enid was getting back the lost time with her best friend only a few hours ago, and now, her head was the eighth of ten.

Ninth head.

Tara.

"If you happen to see her, could you tell her I need to speak with her?" Gabriel asked Eugene.

"I haven't seen her in a while, but she must be around" Eugene said. Sadly, he was wrong. Tara wasn't around, not anymore.

When the prison got under attack, Tara was in the Governor's army, she was with the guy who killed Hershel, she was the enemy. But things changed. Glenn needed her help, and, Tara needed to help Glenn, she needed to help him so the guilt she was feeling could disappear. It was when she was ready to die in that tunnel full of walkers, so Glenn could live and continue searching for his wife, that Tara stop being the enemy, and became family.

She was Hilltop's leader since Jesus' death, she was capable to lead, and she was ready to. She was supposed to be a great leader.

Carol, Daryl and Carl looked at her head with melancholy. They had survived with her during a lot time, and now, that girl with an incredible sense of humor that used to brigthen their days didn't exist anymore. She had been reduced to a sad walker.

"If her mother retaliates it's gonna be against Hilltop, not Alexandria"

That thought arrived at Carl's mind. Tara was protecting her people, but she must have protected herself.

Tara was thinking about what was the the best for her people only a few hours ago. Tara was signing the mutual protection pact only a few hours ago. Tara was being the leader that the Hilltop needed only a few hours ago, and now, her head was the ninth of ten.

Tenth head.

"Where could she be? She's not the kind of people that disappear without telling someone where she is going" Rosita told to Eugene.

"Maybe she wanted to be alone. She wasn't happy about Carl going out there. Maybe she wanted to distract herself"

"Eugene, she wouldn't do that. If she didn't tell anyone what she was going to do, it's because she is going out there and look for him. She care so much about him"

"In that case, I hope she is still in here. She can get hurt if she goes alone"

"Come on, we need to find her. Carl is going to kill us if something happens to her" Rosita commanded.

Even though Rosita and Eugene went to look for her as soon as they realized that she was missing, someone else had already found her.

And then, Carl saw the last pike. With his eye wide open, he unconsciously left Siddiq alone. He dropped the Colt Phyton that he had in his hand. He couldn't take his sight apart from the head. He approached to the pike a little more, he was wishing that his sight was playing tricks on him, because in case it wasn't, and the head was of the person he was thinking it was, he couldn't stand that.

He was about to get close enough when Daryl got between his sight and the pike. "No! No!" Daryl shouted, while he was holding Carl of his shoulders. "Don't look at it. Don't look"

Carl's legs shaked again, but this time, he fell on his knees. Daryl got on his knees too, to comfort him. "Kid, please, don't look at her, don't do that".

Carl's cry was making him look so vulnerable and so broken that even Yumiko felt the need of hug him. But nobody dare to do it, except of Daryl, who was already with him.

Daryl was speaking to him, but he wasn't listening. His heart was so broken and he was so submerge on his memories that everything around him didn't seem to be important.

Inside of Carl, it was like his mind wanted to live again all the moments that he had shared with her, like he needed to remember everything he had done with Amunet.

Cause, yeah, the head that was on that pike was hers.

"Hi, my name is Carl, what's yours?"

"I'm Amunet" The little girl answered. They were in the outsides of Atlanta, in a camp.

"Do you wanna play with me and Sophia? She wants to meet you"

"I would like to"

"Great! Follow me" Carl took her hand and guided her to where the other girl was. They played all morning and all afternoon, that when the sun hid, the three kids could barely stay awake.

The memorie of the first time they talked arrived. Carl felt like he was just being stabbed in the heart, so he let out a heartbreaking scream, toring apart his lungs.

"Carl! You woke up" Amunet had been waiting to him to wake up since Hershel operated him. She was happy that his friend was okay.

"Hello, Amunet. How's Sophia?"

"We hadn't find her" She said, sadly. But at least you are okay, I've missed you"

"We'll find her. I promise. I've missed you too. My dad gave my his hat, cool, no?"

"Yeah, now you are a cowboy"

"You can try it on, it must look great on you" Carl put the hat on Amunet's head. Both kids were laughing, but Carl started to cough.

"Carl, are you okay?" The girl asked worried.

"Yes, I shouldn't laugh too much, it hurts"

"You should get some sleep. Hershel said you're still weak"

"Could you stay here? I don't like to be alone"

"Sure"

The boy made a space in the bed, so Amunet could lay on it. "Sweet dreams, Amunet"

"Sweet dreams, Carl"

The sound of Carl's sobs were mixing with the sound of the moans that Amunet's head was doing. It was a brutal and depressive mix.

When a walker Sophia appeared out of the barn, Carl and Amunet started crying. They hugged each other and stayed like that for a while. After Rick put her down, and the adults began to move the bodies, they were the only ones that were near the barn.

"I thought we would find her" Carl said.

"I did it too. I'm gonna miss her" Amunet started to cry again.

"Hey, don't worry, we are you and me now, okay? You and me, together"

"Forever?"

"Forever"

Carl scratched the dirt under his hands, like the only way he had to express his anger. He could felt the Daryl's arms around him, but he didn't feel comforted.

"My mom's dead, Amunet. I killed her"

"You did what you needed to do. You couldn't just leave her, you know what would've happen"

"I'm a killer. The last moments I had with her I acted like an idiot"

"You were a great son, your mom loved you. And you are going to be a great big brother. Big brother Carl, remember that?"

"Can you give me a hug?"

"You don't have to ask for one"

"We should put them down" Daryl said, and his arms left Carl's body.

"Left Enid and Amunet, please, I'll do it" Carl said, standing up. Daryl moved his head in approval.

Carl got in the wagon that Garet told him. It was dark, but he could see that there were more people in there. A familiar silhouette appeared.

"Carl?" A voice that he knew perfectly asked.

"Amunet!" He said with joy. Both kids got together in a lovely hug, with tears in their cheeks.

"I thought you were dead" Amunet said crying. "When we were running out of the prison and you covered me from the walkers cause I didn't have ammo, I lost you, I looked for you but you weren't there"

"I had to get away from other way. Sorry"

"Don't you ever left me like that again"

"I won't"

Carl finally stood up, with his hands still shaking, he took the knife that Amunet had got for him in one of the running supplies that she did in Alexandria.

Carl opened his eye for the first time since he had get shot by Ron. The first thing he saw after had defeat the death again was Amunet, who was sat next to him. Amunet was submerged in her mind, she didn't notice that he was awake.

"Hi" He said.

Amunet made eye contact with him, and she smiled. She was showing him that beautiful smile and seeing him with those precious grey eyes that had him hypnotized.

She didn't said anything. She just stood up, got near to Carl and kissed him on his lips. "Thanks for wake up. I was losing my mind"

"I just lost mine with that kiss" He joked.

"I should've done that a long time ago"

Carl reached Enid's head.

"Why did you come to get me to The Hilltop?" Enid asked.

"I was worried about you. You didn't take any knife with you"

"I can take care of myself"

"I know, but..."

"But what?"

"You are my best friend. I needed to know you were going to be fine"

Enid hugged Carl and talked to his ear. "And you are my best friend, too. Thank you for made me company"

He raised the knife and buried it in the skull.

"I'm so sorry, Enid. Go to rest, it's time"

The head stopped moaning and Carl felt a little relieved. His best friend was resting now, in a place without suffer, that was what she deserved.

What Carl did next wasn't easy. He was in front of Amunet's head. It was the only left to put down. Everyone was waiting for Cark to do it.

Carl raised his hand, but this was shaking a lot that he dropped the knife.

"Carl, I could do it" Daryl said.

"I have to do this, please" Carl took again the knife. He looked at the walker's eyes. They were grey, but not the beautiful grey that Amunet's eyes used to be. And that was because that walker wasn't Amunet anymore, Amunet wasn't a sad head, Amunet was a shimmering start that guided Carl's life during so many years, and that wasn't going to change. A last memory appeared before Carl had put down the walker.

Amunet and Carl hugged after Carl almost got killed by Lucille. "I love you, Carl, I love you so much"

"I love you too, Amunet. I love you too" That was the first time they said 'I love you' to each other.

"I will always love you, Amunet" Carl said before he buried the knife, making the moans stopped. Amunet was now a free soul. Amunet loved Carl until the ended of her life. Amunet died thinking about Carl. And Amunet would always be with Carl.

Amunet and Carl were kindred spirits.

#carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes one shot #carl x reader #twd #twd imagine #carl grimes deserved better #twd oneshot #the calm before #the walking dead #carl grimes smut

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eyreguide · 4 years

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A Review of the 1971 Spanish Jane Eyre

From 1963-1978 Televisión Española (TVE) produced a program in Spain titled Novela. The series adapted various works of literature over multiple half-hour episodes and in 1971 they adapted Jane Eyre. The serial starred María Luisa Merlo as Jane and Rafael Arcos as Rochester and ran for 15 episodes which can be viewed on this website. I’m so happy that this series has been brought to light, as it has been a unique, charming and though-provoking adaptation to watch. Unfortunately, the series is in Spanish and I have no subtitles or translations to work off of, but with my familiarity with the story, and the expressive acting, I think I was able to follow along pretty well. I wanted to share my thoughts on it as an adaptation, and also give a brief idea of how different it was from other versions of the story.

The serial is framed by Jane writing her thoughts in a diary. By writing, she can address the viewer directly while telling her story. There were quite a few episodes that began with Jane writing at a desk.

The story also does justice to Jane’s childhood. Out of fifteen episodes, we get the majority of two episodes at Gateshead, and two episodes at Lowood. There is an odd scene where it appears that Mrs. Reed tells Jane about her Uncle John and then Uncle John comes to visit Jane at Lowood - apparently to explain to her that he doesn’t have enough money to get her out of Lowood. Jane does strike up a close friendship with Helen (Helena) who is more lively and fun than her novel counterpart. It makes Helena’s death extra sad because she seemed so full of life.

When the story gets to Thornfield, it certainly picks up. Mr. Rochester’s introduction is that of appearing in a chapel at Thornfield (I’m guessing) while Jane is meditating, and he surprises her. He, of course, does not tell her who he is, and Jane ends up slapping him for the impertinence of reaching for her (but he is only trying to take a rose she is carrying). It’s a more dynamic and flirty introduction than I am used to for Jane and Rochester and good fun.

The story then follows the novel pretty closely - Jane and Rochester develop feelings for each other, Rochester tells Jane about his past with Celine (shown in flashback), Blanche and her family show up at Thornfield (there is even a good chunk of an episode devoted to Jane dealing with the news that Rochester might be interested in Blanche). There is no Gypsy scene sadly. There are ominous conversations between Grace Poole and Mrs. Fairfax, which makes me wonder if this adaptation posits that Mrs. Fairfax knows Mr. Rochester’s secret.

Jane does leave to see Mrs. Reed, and the adaptation was not afraid to show Jane taking in her return to Gateshead. One whole episode is devoted to this, and Mrs. Reed is still not very nice to Jane. Her death is a little too… vivid as well, and it is interesting that Jane has to close her eyes at the moment of her death.

Once Jane returns, she has a very emotional conversation with Rochester that ends with her packing her bags and preparing to leave - very dramatic! I wish I knew what they were talking about because soon after is the proposal scene with Jane and Rochester in the garden. Despite their impassioned conversation earlier in the episode, the proposal comes off as sedate and matter of fact. It is more softly romantic and when it finally comes time to kiss, Jane turns her head away - more concerned that Mrs. Fairfax has seen them and might think she is being improper. That must be the first time Jane and Rochester don’t kiss during the proposal!

Now, the next episode after the proposal (episode 12) was probably the most shocking of the whole series! Jane is clearly nervous about her relationship - it seems even Grace Poole has come to warn Jane as they have a lengthy conversation about something. Rochester wants to shower jewelry on Jane, and she does not like it. Then, in the middle of the night, there is a commotion and Mrs. Fairfax comes to get Jane - a piece of the ceiling has fallen on Mr. Rochester and a madwoman is laughing maniacally in the background! But that sequence was only a bad dream for Jane. It certainly gave me a start, because I thought they were already revealing Bertha!

(Difficult to see in this screenshot, but this is the dream sequence, with Jane trying to help Rochester out of the rubble.)

The wedding is interrupted in the usual way though, and unfortunately, Rochester and Jane do not have a long conversation after the failed wedding - it feels like he just lets her go and the whole conversation is more sad than impassioned.

After such a lengthy adaptation with four episodes devoted to Jane’s childhood, and almost 10 episodes devoted to her time at Thornfield, I was a little surprised that the last episode does not touch on the Rivers or has Jane spending an extended time away from Rochester. Instead, Jane does go around asking for food or work and ends up fainting. She is taken to a hospital or clinic and is cared for by the doctor there. That night, while imagining Rochester calling to her amidst the groans of her fellow patients, Jane hears one woman calling a warning to Mr. Rochester in her sleep. Jane goes to investigate and discovers that it is Grace Poole! She seems to be dying (although she doesn’t have any disfigurement) and tells Jane what happened. She does pass away at the end.

Jane returns to Rochester who is playing the piano and in a dramatic moment, reaches for his glass of wine with unseeing eyes (of course no disfigurement mars his face!). Jane returns to him and Adele runs in later, happy to see her governess. A very quick and happy ending.

This is a strange adaptation for me. I can’t speak to how well it uses Charlotte Brontë’s dialogue, but it both takes pains to be true to the plot of the novel, and also takes great liberties. There is a sense of respect for the original, and also little concern to keeping close to the book. I can respect that this is a great achievement in adapting - it manages to keep your interest in half hour increments, and it finds great points to stop the story that keeps the viewers involved. Maria as Jane is of course, too beautiful, and she also comes off a little too doe-eyed and romantic. But she does hold her own against Rochester very well. Rafael as Rochester is a treat - sometimes acerbic and commanding and he does kind of fit the look of Rochester. I think it is unfortunate though, that as the series wore on, he was less biting and more soft and romantic.

However I did love the twists and changes this serial took, and I admired how many small moments in the novel they brought to life in the episodes. I would totally recommend watching this!

Special thanks to Jane Eyre’s Library for posting about this adaptation which led me to discovering it! And if you want more information here’s a link to the serial on IMDb.

#Jane Eyre 1971 #Jane Eyre #Charlotte Bronte #Maria Lusia Merlo #Literary Adaptations

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amplesalty · 4 years

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Christmas 2019: Day 9 - The Christmas Hope (2009)

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Nine months of gestation!

On reflection, I can see that the past two entries on this years list have been a bit of a downer. Far too centered in talk of mental illness, depression and the like. Let’s perk things up a bit with...*checks notes*...shit.

Right now millions of people across the planet (or galaxy as it were) are enjoying/not enjoying the end to a very different cinematic trilogy. Me? I have a long overdue wrap up to attend to that started many moons ago thanks to a certain little film about a certain pair of shoes based on a certain song. Quite why I’m doing this know I don’t know. I can only suspect that I’ve seen one too many reflective social media posts now that we’re reaching both the end of a year and decade, perhaps I’m subconsciously wanted to sort out unfinished business, hence looking at stuff like this, Christmas Story Live and the Christmas Carol Musical.

The movie starts with Traci here recording herself singing a song before commenting ‘American Idol here I come!’. The camera pans all through her house looking at pictures of her daughter, soppy picture frames with ‘I LOVE YOU MOMMY’ written on them and no sign of a boyfriend/husband so she has the basis for a feel good story if she does make it on. Might need to jazz it up somewhere along the line if we’re to really tug at the audiences heartstrings but it’s a start. This actress would go on to play Vicky in the live action Fairly Odd Parents movies so that’s another tie in to a previous entry. Apparently there’s a third one of those and I’m not sure if I’ve seen it.

She literally runs into a couple on her way to work, knocking their teddy bear to the floor which they graciously give to her when she mentions that her daughter would love it. This is Nathan and Megan from The Christmas Blessing, sadly both recast. Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. Not sure I’d be able to take NPH seriously after all those H&K movies recently. Nathan is a bit more of a ginger this time around, rather than the dirty blonde thing NPH has going on. Megan is expecting and they have about a bajillion teddies so they don’t mind passing one along. Hey, someone probably got you that as a gift. Be grateful!

Meanwhile, the police arrest a drug dealer and find she has a malnourished baby in her apartment so in swoop child services to save the day.

Mr. T feels your pain.

I hope you weren’t getting too attached to Traci by the way because about fifteen minutes into the film, shortly after making a heartfelt promise to her daughter that they were going to decorate the Christmas tree once she got home from work and that she had a very special present for her this year, she promptly gets run over.

Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly; you freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, cause you're too fucking scared to think, you just freeze and pull a stupid face.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised given this is one of those melodramatic, Hallmark movies and this whole series has been overly morbid up to this point but it still kinda threw me. Here we are all nice and happy, Traci’s going about her day and there’s a nice Christian, soft rock Christmas ballad playing in the background and then BOOM, SUV to the face.

Then it cuts to her daughter, Emily, going through the Christmas decorations before settling on a angel which she ponders on for a moment before looking to the heavens as she’s having this moment of intuition.

But when child services pop their head in again to take her away, they find that all their usual helpers are fully booked for the holidays so what else can they do? One of the workers, Patricia, has no choice but to take her home. It’s not by the book but, damnit, it’s Christmas and we’re going to give this kid some degree of stability. By sheer coincidence, Patricia happens to be the mother of one Sean Addision who was the kid that died following a car accident the start of Christmas Blessing which caused Nathan to have his Dr Cox crisis of confidence moment. These movies are just ridiculous to how everyone's lives are so intertwined.

Like, up to this point, we met Traci who then bumped into Nathan and Megan, before going to work and having a young, troubled teen skip out on his bill but Patricia was in at the same time and tipped really generously to make up for it. That same kid then pretty much steals her bag following accident and also knew Sean who was mentoring him in one of those Big Brother mentoring programs.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, is played by James Remar, he of The Warriors fame and, more pertinent to this blog, he was in the Miracle on 34th Street remake and one of the segments in the Tales from the Darkside movie. Theirs is a very frosty relationship currently owing to the death of Sean, there’s no sense of chemistry between these two and I’m surprised they’re actually as close in age as they are, Remar only 4 years older. Feels like there’s more of like a 10-20 year gap. He gets on very well with Emily though, they have this instant rapport whilst Patricia is more distant which is understandable. She obviously has to keep things professional as she can’t get too attached to these kids and doesn’t want them getting attached to her, plus there’s probably ongoing issues from Sean’s death, maybe she’s not prepared to slip back into that motherly role again. Which you can tell by that dinner she serves; rolls of wafer thin ham, cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and celery? That’s just what all the kids want.

At least she’ll read Emily a bedtime story, ‘I’ll Love You Forever’ which documents a mother who sings to her song that she’ll love him forever, even when he becomes a rebellious teenager who thinks it’s lame for her to do that. This leads to the very strange visual of him cradiling her in his arms on a rocking chair and singing it to her when she’s old and frail, a mirror image of how she first sang to him when he was a baby. This really hits Patricia in the feels as she felt distant from Sean as he seemed closer to his father, wanting to impress him by picking the sports and classes he thought his father wanted him to take. She even seems to partly blame her husband for their sons death as he switched around his work schedule to come home early for Christmas, which in turn led to Sean coming home early too. If he’d just come home on the day he intended this never would have happened! That seems grossly unfair. Even when she passed along a family heirloom in the form of her fathers watch, he was unimpressed and even managed to break it whilst horsing around with a friend in his room.

The massively tangled web of these characters comes into play again when Megan is going through some things and finds an old Christmas gift which sends Nathan into some sort of Nam flashback. Turns out Sean was holding it as he was wheeled into the hospital and Nathan had taken it upon himself to make sure it found its way to its intended destination but he just forgot about it over the years. I actually went back to check this and ,yeah, that is in the previous movie. I had this whole thing pegged as just a series of independent stories with loose connections throughout but no, apparently they had whole plot points planned out in advance.

Nathan and Patricia do interact several times as she takes the crack baby to the hospital to be checked up. There’s this strange level of frustration akin to An American Tail where Nathan keeps getting little flashbacks in his head but he’s never quite able to connect the dots.

But of course he eventually does and the present turns out to be, say it with me now, the broken watch! Perhaps more meaningful though is the accompanying note which reveals Sean intended to study social work at college because he wanted to help kids just like his mom. This seems to serve as a form of closure for her but I feel like you could already start drawing that sort of conclusion. I mean, the guy was already in that Big Brother program so you were clearly already having some sort of influence on him.

Strike two of the big overly emotional finale comes when it’s suggested Emily puts the angel atop the tree which promptly makes her bolt out of the room. Everyone is left thinking they’ve upset her but she comes back clutching a picture which she wedges onto the tree, a picture not of her mother as I had suspected but of Sean. She says he is her angel and she feels like whenever she’s felt all alone, he’s been there to help here. Awww.

The big showstopper though is the troubled kid finally coming good and, after realising who everyone is in this story, returns Traci’s bag to the Addison home. Inside was her camera and on that camera was the video from the very start of the movie. Turns out she wrote that song as a Christmas gift for Emily.

Though, I feel the writers fell short of a grand slam here. Near the end, Nathan shares the story with Megan about giving the gift to Sean’s parents and how it gave him his own little bit of closure after how much Sean’s death affected him back then. Megan goes into labour shortly afterwards and I was fully expecting them to decide to call the baby Sean but no such luck.

Christmas Blessing was lacking a little bit in the big emotional ending so it feels like this one is making up for that and then some. It’s not as cheesy as that song from Christmas Shoes but still delivers that overly sentimental feeling. Again, it’s something I am loathed to admit but it got to me a little bit. This whole movie has that same morbid energy as the other two but in a slightly different way, the first two felt like you spent the entire movie watching people who were on deaths door before something happened at the end to soften the blow. Here they just give you the death right up front and everyone is left to cope with the aftermath and reflect on how deal with it. It’s like an encapsulation of everything that Nathan has gone through over these movies, facing death in his personal and professional life but coming to terms with it.

You know what’s bullshit though? No sign of the eponymous Christmas Shoes anywhere. They’re even in the box of stuff that Megan finds the old Christmas present in. How can you make this your big conclusion and not bring them back? You brought them back the last one, you couldn’t have Megan tag along and give them to Emily at the end as some sort of passing of the torch? It was her destiny, Nathan got them for his dead mother, Charlie got them for his dead mother, those shoes have been robbed of their purpose in life.

#Christmas 2019 #The Christmas Hope

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wonwoosthetic · 6 years

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Memories That Brought Us Back Together || Chris Evans

MASTERLIST WHO I WRITE FOR

Hey everyone! I hope you are having a great day and that it will get even better after reading this imagine :) I’m really happy with how it turned out and I hope you enjoy it just as much!

A huge ‘Thank You’ to the person that requested this, I hope I didn’t let you down :) <3

Requests by anonymous: About the Chris Evans imagine.. maybe one where the reader and chris have broke up and they meet after a year in a party and at first it is awkward and they start a small fight but after that they remember the good old days together and after hours of talking they decide to give another try to their relationship..(can you make it fluffy pls)

None of the gifs in the imagine belongs to me!

This is the longest imagine EVER - seven-word pages long! I hope it was worth it ;)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader, some of the Marvel cast are included

Warning: cute flashbacks? :)

(He’s always looking dashing, but I think he is sooooo handsome in that video, omg)

Memories That Brought Us Back Together

The elevator music was calming every nerve in your body but had no chance of covering up the music coming from the upper apartment, that you were making your way to. Scarlett on your right, Mark on your left. You shouldn’t have been as nervous as you were, but oh boy, the anxiety was real.

RDJ’s parties were known to be loud but think about the noise coming from his penthouse when the entire cast plus family, and crew were celebrating the massive success Avengers: Infinity War had brought. Being a part of this franchise was nerve-wracking enough but thinking about seeing your ex-boyfriend again, was even worse. You were quite lucky, not having to shoot any scenes with Chris during the filming of Infinity War and the fourth Avengers movie, but you couldn’t say ‘No’ to this celebration – you really tried – but Scarlett and Ruffalo showed up at your house to drag you to this party. Scarlett knew about your worries, but she also had an idea of what could happen that day, obviously not telling you anything about her ‘plan’.

The elevator doors opened and the three of you were hit with the sight of dancing bodies, the smell of alcohol and people walking around and talking. Scarlett touched your arm, making you turn your head towards her “Promise me, you’re gonna talk to him. You didn’t really end on good terms and he’s still thinking about you. And you’re not better in any way.” “I’m not that bad and please it’s been over a ye-“, you protested but Mark interrupted you “Oh no, (Y/N), don’t even try talking yourself out of this. You’ve been horrible and Chris as well. My gosh, just talk, you can’t get out of each-others way forever.” You gave him a look that said more than words ever could, but to describe it, it was a ‘Shut your mouth’-look. But you also knew, that the both of them weren’t wrong, Chris and you sadly didn’t end well on good terms, due to the both of you just fighting over the littlest of things – it was all getting too much for you, so you just walked out of your shared house and left a relationship worth five years of memories, love, respect, and passion behind.

“Guys, Jeremy’s over there, I’m gonna go. Have fun”, Mark excused himself and started walking off “And talk to him!”, he shouted before disappearing into the large mass of people.

“Come on, let’s get us some drinks”, the actress next to you suggested and dragged you to the bar.

The big living room was filled to the brim with people, making it hard to walk through – you had no idea, that many people wanted to take part in this celebration. Reaching the lounge, a bartender was right at your side, asking for your orders “What can I get you?”, he was very polite. “A Gin for me, and she gets a Vodka-Tonic “, Scarlett ordered, not even letting you decide. The bartender walked off and you gave your friend a look of disbelieve “Are you crazy? Vodka-Tonic? What makes you think I’ll drink that? You knew I wanted to drive home earlier tonight.”

(please ignore the text on the gif)

“Oh right, sorry”, she answered, her voice filled with sarcasm “I completely forgot.” “Scarlett, I mean it. I don’t want to get too drunk”, you made clear. She looked you right in the eyes “Loosen up. I’m gonna make sure you don’t get wasted”, she turned her head towards the bar and glimpsed at the wall “I just want to get you to talk.” You got quite annoyed “Oh my gosh, Scarlett, we’re gonna talk tonight. I don’t want to, he doesn’t want to. Please, just let it be.” “No! I won’t just let it be! He wants to talk to you, just as much as you want to make things right with him. We’ve all been worried about you. You were the golden couple, everyone adored you, strived to be like you.” She knew she hit a nerve there and you knew she was right. You were America’s number one couple, your split-up was huge, it didn’t only hit you, but everyone you’ve ever worked with as well, especially your best friends – the Marvel cast. You didn’t want to walk out on him and regretted it like you had never regretted anything else in your life – you wanted to make things right, you just didn’t really know how. The mixologist came back with two drinks in his hands and slid them across the wooden counter into your direction. After giving him a small ‘Thanks’ by raising the glass, you swallowed the beverage in one gulp. “Another please!”, you shouted from across the bar, letting the bartender know, you want to get at least tipsy. Scarlett gave you a shocked look, that was followed by a knowing smirk – she ordered another one as well. The drinks got done quicker and you bumped your filled glasses onto each other and got them down your throat immediately. The two of you ordered another one. After receiving it, you turned around, leaning onto the counter with your back, while Scarlett was getting ready to leave you alone “I’m gonna head of the toilette, be right back”, she excused herself and walked off – she didn’t need the toilette but saw Chris on the other end of the bar. Walking towards the ladies’ room, she passed Chris and touched his shoulder “She’s up there”, nodding in your direction “Please talk to her, she’s too stubborn.” Her comment made him smile, he remembered your stubbornness from the five years of being together. She walked off and he kept his gaze on you – you didn’t notice anything. Your eyes were wandering across the room, noticing the similarities to Tony Stark’s apartment in the Avenger’s tower in the movies. You remembered Robert telling you, that he had been looking for a penthouse that was either very similar to his character’s or one, that he could renovate to make it look like the Avenger’s apartment – and he finally found one.

After deciding that the room was way too loud and crowded for you to be on your own, you decided to leave it and made your way upstairs. The upper floor had about five bedrooms, with individual bathrooms and a very big balcony that you were able to enter from the hallway. You opened the sliding glass door and came to contact with the cold breeze of that night and the typical New Yorker industrial smell. Walking up to the glass railing, looking down on the street and into the night sky. You stood there slightly tipsy thinking about every mistake you had made in your relationship with Chris and came to the conclusion that there were too many to remember them all. The feeling of regret came up again, the same you had right after leaving the house a bit over a year ago.

Your daydreams were interrupted by a male voice appearing next to you, making you jump slightly

“Looks just like Stark’s right?”

Your head shot into the direction the voice was coming from – Chris. He was leaning on the railing with his arms, gazing into the distance. Your nerves were fiddling up and you tried to stay calm

“Yeah, I didn’t think he would actually find one like this”, you kept your gaze down.

Your ex-boyfriend looked lovingly at you, thinking about his immense mistake of letting you go. There was an awkward silence between you two before he decided to speak up again

“H-How are you… doing?”

His voice was gentle, sweet, and it really sounded like he meant it – he did. He had heard about your sorrow, the fact that you didn’t leave Scarlett’s house for a month, where you stayed for five months before finding an apartment, and that you even thought about not being a part of Infinity War, and it was all his fault.

You turned your head once more, this time looking him directly in the eyes “How do you think?” Your eyes started watering up ‘Don’t cry in front of him!’, your inner voice warned you. You started blinking quickly, hoping for the tears to just go back. “I-I… I’m sorry”, he shook his head. An uncomfortable feeling started making its way up – you didn’t want him to feel sorry, it was your fault. “You shouldn’t be the one saying that…”, you looked at him sadly, pleadingly. “Yes, I should. I was the one that made you leave the house. I was the one that started those useless fights. I mean over butter?!”, he defended you and lastly asked himself even why his anger rose over the smallest things. His comment made you slightly smile though “Yeah, the fight because of the butter was useless.” Chris started laughing, only by looking at your smile. “But we didn’t fight that much”, you tried making him feel better, even though you knew how much you had fought. “(Y/N)”, he looked at you sternly “We fought A TON”, but still had a smile on his face. “Maybe, but we didn’t only fight… We had a lot of good moments together”, you didn’t want him to take too much of the blame. He started laughing out loud and clapped his hands “Oh yeah! Like when you brought home a random dog and tried hiding her from me!” “But she was so cute and a stray!”, you started laughing at the memory.

--- Two Years Ago ---

Chris and you just found a beautiful house on the outside of Boston, fifteen minutes away from his parents, with a huge garden, perfect for Dodger to play in. Chris was at his parents’ house, getting some of his old stuff to bring to your new shared home, while you were taking your dog on a walk when you heard a duffed bark from the bushes. You started looking around, thinking that you may have just heard it in your imagination, but Dodger’s ears were up. “What is it, Dodger?”, you asked the dog in a high-pitched voice, not expecting an answer. He started sniffing around, came to a stop and started barking at the bushes. “Shhh”, you shushed him, making him quiet down. The dog started making its way into the plants and moved around a bit, when all of a sudden, he came back out, but not alone. He held, what looked like, a Golden Retriever puppy in his mouth and carried it to your feet.

“Oh my gosh”, you looked shockingly at the scarred puppy “Well done, Dodger” and petted your own dog. You felt so sorry for it ‘Who would leave a puppy out here?’

Not even thinking about it for too long, you decided to take the little dog with you, and held in your arms, the entire way home. After entering the house, you put the Golden Retriever down, to unleash the big dog and take your shoes off. You tried leading the stray into the kitchen, to give it some food, due to it looking very fragile. It followed you carefully, sniffing your hand every so often, with Dodger protectively right behind. After successfully reaching the kitchen, you grabbed one of the many bowls you had, filled it up with some dog food and placed it on the floor, in front of the puppy. The stray looked suspiciously but started eating right away. While it ate, you tried petting it, which was very easy – it trusted you. “We can’t tell Chris right away, just so you know. I don’t think he would approve of another dog. Just know that I love you”, you smiled at the little one.

Suddenly you could hear a car door being slammed from outside, and you immediately knew that your boyfriend was back. “Crap”, you cursed while standing up quickly, making Laila (yes you already gave her a name) flinch, and ran towards the living room and jumped onto one of the sofas, quickly grabbing a magazine and pretended to read it.

The front door open, revealing a very happy thirty-one-year-old “I’m back home!” Dodger already ran into the hallway, ready to welcome his owner, who was carrying two boxes. He put them down and welcomed his dog as well, before making his way to you. You were still sitting on the couch with pouting lips, waiting for Chris to kiss you. Your boyfriend walked up to you and planted a kiss on your lips “How was the walk?”, he asked, walking back into the hallway to grab the boxes he had left there, only to place them on the dining table in the living/dining room. You got up from your position and strolled into his direction, leaning on one of the chairs next to him “Oh, you know, nothing, nothing exciting.” He gave you a weird look but didn’t question it any further. Chris decided on getting a drink from the kitchen, making you run up to the closed door, which led separated the two rooms.

“What are you doing?”, he wondered while laughing. “There might has happened something, today, while I was walking Dodger. Just-just a little thing”, you answered slowly “What is it?”, he asked, looking at you with loving eyes “Please it can’t be that bad.” “Well, it isn’t… I think. Just- ugh, I don’t know. Go look”, you didn’t really know how to tell him, so you decided to just let him see it for himself.

He walked past you, opened the door, and immediately came to sight with the small puppy, trying to crawl into the bowl, to get the last bits of food “That is not our dog”, Chris pointed at it. You walked past him and crouched down to get him out of the bowl, and sat him down on your lap “I know, but look at it”, you picked the Golden Retriever up and held it out, for your boyfriend to look closer. He laughed and got down on his knees as well “Alright, yes, it is cute, but it’s not ours, we can’t keep it”, he held his hand out to earn its trust. “But he was in the bushes! In the bushes Chris! Who would do that?! Not one that wants their dog back”, you defended yourself. “OK, but you know it just as much as I do – we can’t keep another dog in the house. My parents are already taking Dodgers when we’re filming, they won’t be able to look after another one. Let’s take him to the vet, they’ll know what to do.” “But-“, you really wanted to keep it, but he was right and you knew it, you couldn’t keep another one. “(Y/N)”, he said your name sternly, like a parent telling their kids off. Your stubbornness kicked in “No! I don’t want anyone else to look after him or her!” Chris looked at you “Who do you think could take better care of him or her? Us – a couple who is sometimes gone for months? OR – a couple who is only gone for a couple of hours a day, and can take it on walks, and play with it.” You huffed “Alright, alright, you’re right.” You didn’t want to give in, but you knew that someone else would be able to really show him, love.

The both of you got up, with Chris holding the puppy, making your way to your boyfriend’s Range Rover. You left Dodger at home, knowing he wouldn’t do anything bad, like destroying any furniture.

--- Back At The Party ---

“That was the first time Dodger ever destroyed the couch!”, you laughed out loud. “Oh yes, and he did it well!”, Chris stated, remembering the condition of your sofa when you came back from the vet.

“You were the only person, I ever gave in to”, your loving gaze was full on the actor, who was now very close to you. “Ehhhh, well, not always. You’re an extremely stubborn person”, you rolled your eyes at his comment “Like that one time, we looked after Stella.” The both of you started laughing uncontrollably remembering the fun time you had “But who knew Dodger would do that!”, you defended your decision from back then.

--- A Year, And A Half Ago ---

“Come on Stella, one more bite”, you were trying to feed Chris’ little niece, you were babysitting. She was shaking your head, refusing to eat one more spoon of the potato-mash you made for her. “Pleeeaaseee”, you pleaded her, but she ignored it. Her eyes were following your dog, who was walking around her high chair, every now and then smelling her feet, making her smile.

Chris entered the room “Still trying to get her to eat that?”, he smiled “What do you mean THAT? It’s mash, it’s delicious”, you explained. “Clearly not to her”, your boyfriend pointed at the toddler in the high chair, his sister borrowed you for two days and a night. You huffed and placed the bowl on the table, making the actor smile, walk up to you, and place a kiss on your head “I still love it”, and took the bowl of potato mash to eat it himself.

You stood up and took Stella out of the chair, to take her into the living room. You placed her on the carpet in front of a couple of her favourite toys, according to Chris’ sister. You started playing with her, making the little girl smile. “Why do you don’t like my mashed potatoes?”, you asked her while playing on the mini xylophone. The toddler laughed at you and took the wand out of your hand, to play the instrument herself.

Dodger walked over to the two of you, sniffing around the room. Your phone, which was still on the dining table, started ringing, making you turn your head around. You rose up from the ground and were about to walk away when Chris peaked his head out the door from the kitchen “Don’t leave Stella alone on the floor with Dodger”, he warned you. “He won’t do anything”, you answered, “He doesn’t even bite.” “I’m not saying he’ll bite”

You reached the table and saw Chris’ sister was calling you, so you picked it up “Hello?”, you answered the phone. “Hey (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if everything’s alright”, she stated. “Yes”, you laughed at her protectiveness “Don’t worry, everything’s fine. Enjoy your evening, don’t think about her too much, she’s a princess.” It was the first time her and her husband left the kids to have a date night - Scott took the older one of the kids, Miles, and you looked after Stella. “I trust you guys, it’s just really hard not to think about them” “I get it. But don’t worry, everything’s perfect. She’s playing with her xylophone right now”, you explained. Chris walked out of the kitchen and made his way to the living room with a plate of fruit for Stella to eat, due to her not wanting to eat the mash. “Oh, alright, well then. I’m gonna go and call Scott to see-“ She was about to continue when your boyfriend shouted from behind you “Oh no, Dodger”, he clearly wasn’t able to control his laughter. Your sister-in-law immediately started to worry “Wh-what’s going on??!!” You ran up to the couch, only to see that Dodger had planted himself onto Stella. You started laughing so hard, it was difficult to answer the worried woman on the other line “I-it-don’t, oh my gosh, don’t worry. Dodger just-just planted himself onto your daughter.” Your statement made her giggle, and suddenly the three of you were laughing uncontrollably. “OK, just make sure she’s alright. Have a good night”, she said goodbye. “Good night, bye.” And you ended the phone call.

“Get him off her!”, you told Chris, but he was laughing too hard and making a video of what was happening in front of him. “No, Stella, say ‘Get off Dodger’”, he answered, and was then telling his niece what to do. “Stella, tell him”, you tried encouraging her “Come on, get up.” “I can’t”, she answered, struggling to get up, due to the weight of the dog. You sat down next to your boyfriend, still laughing. After a couple more struggles, she finally managed to get out, and immediately sat on a chair in front of the sofa you were sitting on. Yours and Chris’ laughter calmed down and he wrapped his left arm around you, for you to lean your head on his shoulder. “When we have kids and something like this happens, I won’t just let you stand aside and film the whole thing. Just so you know”, you joked. Your comment made your boyfriend turn his head to look “When we have kids?”

You raised your head and looked at him “Yeah”, you simply stated. “You thought about us having kids?”, he was still in shock but was also extremely happy to hear those words come from your mouth. “Of course. You haven’t?”, you wondered, hoping that you didn’t just cross a line. “No, I-I-mean, of course, I have… I just… I don’t know. That just came quite shockingly”, he smiled at you. You made yourself a bit taller and kissed him lovingly.

--- On The Balcony ---

The memory brought tears to your eyes, that you couldn’t hide anymore, and the tears started streaming down your face. Chris wasn’t a lot better – his eyes were filled with tears, but he was able to get them to go back just by grabbing the bridge of his nose, between his eyes.

“I loved the idea of having kids with you”, you started another conversation with him.

He looked at you with pleading eyes “Then let’s continue what we had” You turned your head to look at him with a slight frown on your face “What?” He got closer to you and took your face in his big hands, wiping those tears of yours with his thumb away “Don’t cry – you’re way too beautiful for that” You smiled at his comment. You looked into each-others eyes – more love couldn’t be there. “Let’s go back to those good times. We didn’t end on good terms, we both know that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t just get over that and take off again from the good memories… They’re so many of those”, he suggested. You nodded smilingly “I think that would be a good idea.”

Your comment made the both of your grins widen, to the point where it hurt to smile so much. He slowly leaned down, due to your height difference, and put his soft lips on yours, making all those butterflies, that you thought were dead, come back to live in your stomach. If he hadn’t hold your face his hands, making you able to stand, your knees would have given up.

After a good minute of kissing each other with all the passion that you missed in that year apart from each other, your faces separated, but your foreheads kept leaning on each other. “I missed you”, you commented, resting your forehead on his. “I missed you so much, you have no idea”, he stated right back at you. You separated a bit more, your hands now on his, which were still on your face. Chris opened his mouth “I love you. I still do. I never stopped” Tears started leaving your eyes again “I love you too.” He kissed every single one of the tears you shed until he reached your lips again.

Suddenly there was clapping being heard from the inside of the building, making the two of you separate. There was the entire Marvel-cast looking at you, clapping. RDJ was the one to start “Finally! My gosh, do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this!” Everyone started laughing, and your boyfriend looked deeply into your eyes “Yeah, I’ve waited way too long as well.”

---

Oh boy, 4006 words! A new record has been set on his blog! :)

Thank you for taking your time, and, I really hope you enjoyed reading it!

I’m really proud of how it turned out, so yeah :) Thank you to the person who requested it :) <3

719 notes · View notes

inneedofsomehope · 6 years

Text

NCT Taeyong: I’ve missed you

Pairing: Taeyong x reader

Genre: fluff, bit angsty

Words: 2,5 K

'Taeyong, please don't leave me!' the small girl pleaded, holding the hand of her big best friend. She didn't understand why he had to go. She didn't understand that he had to leave for her, his parents, for their sake. He had messed up and he knew it.

The fifteen year old boy squatted down, leveling with the little girl. 'Y/N, I'll come back for you. Don't worry. I won't forget about you.'

'Yes you will... Taeyong please don't do this. You are all I have left.' The mature words coming out of the mouth of the nine year old girl startled the boy. He swallowed hard and stood, petting the head of the girl. 'Take care Y/N.' He turned around and got into the black car. The small legs of the girl carried her running form after the car, crying and screaming for him to come back.

As the years went by word from the boy got less. She got a present for christmas the first year, but that was it. Only twice she got a birthday card and never once he called or texted her. As Y/N grew older she tried to hold on to the thought of him coming home to her. But time passed and he became a mere memory in the back of her mind. She threw away everything that could remind her of him, pained by his vanishing. Some nights she would cry over his broken promise. At her fifteenth birthday she burned every last piece of him. The only last reminder she made permanent on her skin. She promised herself never to trust and live her life to the fullest. A broken clock was painted in dark ink on her skin.

For her twentieth birthday she got a trip to America from her parents. She and her best friend Doyoung had planned it for over the last two years and finally they could spread their wings and get to know more of the world.

'Take care Y/N,' her little brother said and she swallowed hard. Words were hard to erase.

'I will Jaemin, take care of yourself.'

She hugged him and stepped into the passengers seat next to Doyoung. The back of the car was loaded with their suitcases and they took off to the airport.

At the airport they checked in their luggage and sat down to get something to drink. They had to check in an hour before the plane would leave, so they had enough time left to drink and eat something. As Y/N took a sip of her iced tea she almost choked. There, in the crowd, was walking a familiar face. Doyoung looked worriedly at her and patted her back.

'What is wrong?' he asked his best friend and tried to see what she was looking at.

As if he could feel her eyes on him he turned his head, looking her right in her eyes. A flash of recognition crossed over his face, before he turned emotionless again and continued looking at his phone. Tears welled up in her eyes and she quickly looked away. He looked as beautiful as ever and it made her want to cry out all of those waiting years. God, even his timing was cruelly planned by the universe. He doesn't recognize me, you sadly thought and looked as he disappeared into the crowd, out of reach once again.

'He's back...' she whispered to her best friend and shoved her food away from her, her appetite completely gone. Doyoung slung an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into him in a comforting way. 'He's not worth it, flower. You should focus of what is in your future, not what is in your past.' He kissed the top of her head and wiped a stray tear away.

'He didn't even recognize me, Dou.' Her throat felt constricted and her good mood was totally ruined. It took her so long to get over the fact that Taeyong had left her and now he was back, totally breaking down her walls with nothing more than a look.

'Flight zero-five-four-three to Chicago will leave in half an hour, please board the plane.'

With doubt in her head and a heavy heart she walked alongside Doyoung, towards the good gate.

*Flashback*

'When we grow up I want to go to America with you Tae. I want to do everything with you Tae.' The brown haired boy softly stared at you. He nodded. 'I will show you the whole world Jagi, you and me together and no one can stop us.'

*End of flashback*

Noticing her sudden stop Doyoung looked at you confused.

'I'm so sorry Dou, I am truly trying to have fun. Please pull me through this or I can't stop myself from turning around.'

Doyoung nodded understandingly and grabbed her hand soft but firm.

'Our luggage is already in the plane, there is no turning back now flower.' He softly squeezed her hand and together they boarded the plane, not knowing that there was a dark and brooding figure watching over them, fists clenching and unclenching.

--------

I'm skipping the trip and continuing from the day they come back. Let me know if you want to know what happened on the trip, then I'll write it.

--------

Laughing you got out of the car, kissing Doyoung on his cheek.

'I'll call you, okay?' she said as she got her luggage out of the car.

'Yeah, thank you for going, flower. Stay strong.'

'I will Dou, don't worry about me. Say hi to your mom from me.'

She slammed the door shut and stared at the disappearing car. The opening of a door behind her shook her out of her thoughts. Her mom stood in the door opening with a wide smile on her face.

'Hi baby, how was your trip?' she asked as she walked to her daughter and hugged her.

'It was amazing mom. We had so much fun!' The young woman squealed and grabbed her suitcase.

'I'm starving, you have some dinner left?'

'Of course baby.'

She didn't notice her mothers stiff shoulders and cheerfully walked into the dining room, only to be met by a thick heaviness in the air. Confused she looked around, only to be met by a head full of silver white hair. Before she could turn around a strong, big hand wrapped itself around her upper arm. Her mother had quietly left the dining room, for the two to have some alone time.

'Who was he?' his voice was lower and raspier than she remembered and a lump started to form in her throat.

'That is none of your business,' she snapped, voice full of venom. She ripped her arm out of his grasp and started to walk away, only to be pushed agains the counter, his front pressed tightly against her back.

'I am not letting you walk away from me again.' His breath was hot against her ear and neck and goosebumps appeared on her skin. She squirmed under his weight and tried to free herself, what was becoming harder and harder as her walls crumbled down and all fight left her body. She let herself limply fall against his hard chest. Silent tears running over her face, drenching her t-shirt.

'Y-... You walked away from me...' It came out as a broken whisper as she placed her hands on the counter for support as it seemed that her legs could give in any moment.

'You left me, you left me Taeyong.'

His name leaving her lips send a shiver down his spine. She had grown in such a beautiful young woman and he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of her against him. He dreamed to have her with him almost every night and it killed him to not be beside her.

A sudden spark of anger towards him had her on high alert again. She shoved him of of her and stormed out of the dining room, through the hallway and out of the door. This was not the way she expected to come home. She'd expected to have a nice diner with her parents and brother, telling them about what she had done in America. Once again he grabbed her arm, forceful this time. He turned her, to finally face her and was taken aback by her beauty. Even though her eyes and nose were red from crying, she looked so gorgeous.

'You have NO right to come here, invade my personal space and demand to know if Doyoung is my boyfriend. I want you to leave and don't come back. I don't know you. I've moved on!' she screamed and her hand connected with his face. A flash of anger crossed his face, his jaw tense with anger.

'I have every right to come back and take what is mine,' he growled and took a step towards her, towering high above her.

'I am not yours! You lost me the moment you stepped in that damned car!'

‘You act as if I wanted to! You act as if I had a choice! You act like you are the only one hurt!’ The windows shook at the impact of his hard, low voice and unwillingly Y/N took a step back.

Her father came running out of the door, separating the two.

'Taeyong, I think it's time for you to go, boy. It was nice seeing you again. Tell your mom we said hi.'

The young man looked at the father and his daughter with brooding eyes, anger evident on his face, dead set on taking back what was his. That Doyoung boy didn't stand a chance.

----

Sitting in her room with Doyoung, watching a movie you could not focus. The events from earlier that week played over and over in her head. The way he grabbed her, his heated gaze. Y/N squirmed around, trying to get comfortable.

'Y/N, you should go talk to him, act like the adults you are,' Doyoung stated, turning off the movie, 'I am not saying it to pester you about him, but I am telling you as a friend. I can see you hurting.'

'I'm just scared, Doyoung. What if he leaves again? My heart couldn't handle another ache.'

'Tell him. Tell him about your struggles, how much you loathe him for leaving you. You can not live without each other, flower. These past years have been rough, I know, I've been there with you. But I am your best friend, and I can tell that you keeping yourself from him is only hurting you.'

She nodded and got up, 'I'll go now, Dou. Thank you, you are the best.'

Y/N hugged her best friend and stepped into her worn out shoes. She ran over to the familiar house, the house she visited so many times when she was younger. Impatiently she rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door. The sky behind her was a beautiful shade of red, but with her mind set on talking to Taeyong she couldn't care less. When no one opened the door she decided to use the backdoor. That one was most of the time opened. Stepping into the quiet house a nervous feeling hit her. What if he didn't want to talk to her anymore after what happened earlier that week. She didn't feel at home anymore in the familiar house, but still didn't leave. She had to talk to him. She had to know if this would be the definite end of the two or if they could try again. Hearing some noise coming from the upstairs, she went to the first floor and knocked on his bedroom door.

After a couple of minutes Taeyong opened the door. He stood there, tall and without a t-shirt, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Y/N bit her lower lip as she tried to focus on his face.

'What do you want, Y/N,' Taeyong sounded distant, cold and bored.

'I- I came to talk to you,' she stuttered, taken aback by his appearance and coldness towards her.

'Well then, talk. I don't have all day.'

'Why didn't you write me? Or called me? Or even a text sometime would have been enough...' Tears welled up in her eyes and she swallowed hard.

The eyes of the man softened and he caressed her cheek.

'I thought it would be easier for you to forget me.'

'How could I ever forget you?! I loved you! Hell I still do even though I wish I didn't!' Y/N screamed at the man, pounding his chest with her small fists. The man let her hit him, it didn't hurt him. The physical contact didn't hurt. Her words were the things that hurt him. He left her and was selfish enough to try and forget about her. Forget about his sweet Jagi.

'I am so sorry, Jagi. I wish I could make all those lost years up to you, but I can't. The only thing I can do now is make your future, our future better. If you give me a chance.'

'How can I know that you won't leave me again?' Her voice was small and his only wish in that moment was, to make her happy, to keep her safe and make sure no harm would ever come upon her ever again.

'You can't. You have to trust me and take my word for it.'

Taeyong pulled the small woman into his arms, lifting her and taking her to his couch. Siting down, with her in his lap. He cupped her cheeks, making her look into his eyes.

'You have to believe me when I say that I won't leave you ever again.'

She saw the honesty in his eyes and smashed her lips onto his, the thing she wanted to do since the day she saw him on the airport.

'So that black haired boy, isn't your boyfriend?' Taeyong asked you, uncertainty in his voice.

'No, Tae. I haven't dated anyone. I've been waiting for you for all those years,' she said silently, covering her red cheeks with her hair.

The innocence and sweetness of his woman made his lower zone pool with desire.

'Dear god...' the man growled and puled her down on him harshly, letting her feel his desire for her.

'Taeyong...' she breathed out, already out of breath, 'Taeyong, I don't want us to rush things. Please, first take me out on a date.'

Slowly he let go of her hips and bit his lip painfully hard but nodded.

'Okay, Jagi. Anything for you.'

#nct #nct oneshots #nct taeyong #nct one shots #nct doyoung #nct angst #nct fluff #nct taetae #nct story #nct short story

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