#cause it's not like i could recommend them. uh. only friends or something along those lines lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kira-fluff · 3 years

Note

Hey heyy, have you thought about writing another common trope headcanon / oneshot with the MysMe guys?

Because the “only one bed” was extremely good!!

Even if you decide not to do it, just know that your blog and your talent amazes me<3

a/n: Did you even have to ask??? OF COURSE IF YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LOL thank you gorgeous <3 I decided to try putting it in a fanfic (one shot unless requested) format since it's definitely quite long and making a mini-series featuring those you request for me to include in my next fic or a pt2! :) also this is a slow burn and is quite spicy <3 Also, I did my best not to make it like the whole share the room thingy again!! ***I’m not fluent in French pls don’t @ me

Length: 6k lol

A Series of Unfortunate Events Fake Dating - Jumin Han

A sudden message beep surprised you, causing you to look down at your phone. It was a text message from Jumin: Call me. Immediately suspecting the worst, you quickly pressed his contact, the number dialing in seconds. There was a few seconds that ran by before the other end answered with a curt, "Y/n." "Jumin, hey, is something wrong?", you asked, worriedly. "Everything is perfectly fine. I was calling to ask you a favor -- feel free to decline." Jumin never asked for favors, or your help in general.. you knew whatever it was you were determined to assist him in the best way possible. "Of course, Jumin! Anything." There was silence for a moment as if he was contemplating whether or not it this favor was truly worth asking before he spoke, "Please decline if you are unable to but... I was wondering if you'd be willing to indulge my father. He's insisted that I bring you with me to our business closure." "Jumin", you began, "I'd be honored. I'd love to!" On the other line, there was a sigh of relief (or of worry, you weren't sure). "Mr. Kim will be at your apartment to pick you up tomorrow. The meeting is taking place in Monoco -- pack for a ten-day trip" There was a pause before Jumin breathed out a quiet, "Thank you." You couldn't hold back your smile, thankful that the conversation was over the phone, making it impossible for him to see your dopey expression. He hung up, leaving you to pack. Your mind quickly wandered from what you needed in your suitcase to worrisome waters. You and Jumin had a very deep friendship following the party you’d thrown, spending the time following the ginormous celebration to get to know each other. It warmed your heart that your newfound friend took so much joy in being with you -- even when he tried not to show it. You lost track of the number of times you ended up sleeping over at his penthouse after accidentally staying up until 4am talking with him, swishing expensive wine in your mouths. You didn’t expect falling in love to come so easily. You were someone who was quite choosey with your partners -- you weren’t one to fall easily for anyone. Even in your past relationships that sometimes lasted years, you’d never felt the way your heart felt now that you were with him. And yet, you were best friends. You were sure you meant something to him in so far as friendship, but you had respected him when he’d gotten drunk one of the first nights he met you and spouted out his heart to you..

- “Y/n, to tell you the truth.... I’ve never fallen in love before.” He gazed up at you lackadaisically from his position on the sofa -- head rested over the top of the sofa cushion, his arm lazily resting under his chin. He started at you for a moment, his gray eyes gazing into your own with a hazy, absent feeling in them. You laughed, “I find that hard to believe.” You walked over to him, absent-mindedly running your fingers through his tousled hair. He let out a long, uncharacteristic sigh, his eyes closing gently. You leaned in close to him, looking him in the eye. “Can I tell you something, too?” He nodded. “I haven’t either.” - You grinned at the memory. You firmly believed that conversation was what brought you and him together closer than ever before. He’d always found an excuse to call you over for the silliest of reasons. Either he needed a certain form that he was positive he accidentally slipped into your bag on accident and needed to see it first-hand to check, or he realized he’d bought more wine than was necessary for a night alone. It made you smile for months that he couldn’t get out the words “I miss you” or “I want you to come over”. Even to you, the words sounded intimate.. but that was the way your relationship worked -- you were very close with each other, as two best friends ought to be. Still, as much as you tried, you couldn’t control the way your heart began to constrict when he got especially close to you. You couldn’t help it when you’d shiver when he gently brushed cat fur away from your cheek. You were shocked that despite his perceptive personality, he didn’t seem to notice or acknowledge your deep blush during these interactions... maybe he was uncomfortable with them.... you hoped not. There were times the air was knocked out of you. Literally. Once, you weren’t paying attention to the fact that the sidewalk had ended and you were walking straight into oncoming cars coming off the highway when a muscular arm slid around your waist and pressed your body flush to his own. You stared with eyes wide open at Jumin, who comically seemed equally surprised at his actions. You couldn’t help the way your eyes trickled down to his sultry lips, taking in their beautiful red-wine color, blooming like dark roses. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with your current state of mind and physical wellbeing. When you finally managed to get your mind out of the gutter, you thanked him profusely, grabbing his hands impulsively and begging to reward him in some way. His answer surprised you, “I--uh-- a movie. I’d like to do more research watching one of those movies you enjoy watching.. for business sales and such.” “Sure!! I can recommend anything! I’ll drop the email by your office tomorrow” you answered. A panicked expression took over his face for a moment before returning to its familiar stoicism, “You won’t watch it also?” Your eyes widened in confusion before you answered hurriedly, “Oh! Yeah, I’ll watch it with you. I just wouldn’t want to bother you if you were doing it for work purposes.” You could never bother me you thought you heard him say, but you couldn’t be sure. Yep, you were in love with Jumin. When you at last finished packing, you went to bed, looking forward to the mystery that befell tomorrow. - You rose bright and early to prepare for the exciting trip that was bound to come. You couldn’t help the extra bit of effort you ended up putting into your appearance in anticipation of seeing Jumin again and.. possibly sitting next to him on an aircraft. Right on time, you received a text message from Mr. Kim, indicating that he had arrived at your apartment right on time. As you opened your apartment door to carry your luggage downstairs, you were met with numerous familiar faces of Jumin’s employees who quickly took your heavy luggage items for you. You thanked them, making your way to the elevator with them. You texted Jumin: Thanks for the help with my luggage :) In a matter of seconds, you received a reply, Jumin: You’re welcome. Grinning down at your phone, you didn’t notice your driver's light chuckle, a look of astonishment in his eyes. These blind kids. You continued to chatter along with Jumin on your phone, at last arriving at the rendezvous point where Jumin and the Chairman pulled in identical black limos alongside your own. “Thank you, Mr. Kim. I can take it from here.” Mr. Kim nodded in obedience, ushering you to go to Jumin. Jumin patted the leather seat next to his own in the sleek limousine. You held back a laugh, there were plenty of other seats open for you to sit.. but it warmed your heart that he wanted you right next to him. As friends. The Chairman joined the two of you, sitting across from his son, a mischievous glint in his eyes that only Jumin could recognize. A silent conversation took place between Jumin and his father -- Jumin beginning with a raised eyebrow. The Chairman replied with a sly smirk. Jumin with a scowl, his father with a growing grin. You watched the conversation continue silently before the Chairman at last spoke, “Jumin, my son, I’m overjoyed to see you’ve brought your Y/n with you.” A flash of annoyance crossed Jumin’s face as he said, “My... Y/n?” You blanched.. of course the thought of you being his made him uncomfortable... but you didn’t think he’d be angry. “Y/n, I’m glad you could join us. However, as much as I hate to ask this of you, there is something I desperately need from you.” Before you could speak Jumin interjected, “Absolutely not.” You caressed his hand, looking up at him with kind eyes, “Jumin, hey, it’s okay.” Looking toward Jumin’s father you said, “Whatever it is, I’ll do my very best.” Jumin’s jaw feathered a bit, but he said no more. He grinned, “Aren’t you a kind girl. Well, in this business deal, the contract was originally contingent on Jumin marrying his daughter -- which I was against from the beginning. After all, I know the importance of loving the one you wish to be with.” (Jumin rolled his eyes at that.) “Anyway, I declined the offer.” You were confused, unsure where your part came in. As if reading your mind, he continued saying, “However, I perhaps let it slip that you two were engaged. I figured you both are so close with each other already, that it would be no issue to play a bit of husband and wife for the sake of business, no?” Jumin was furious, his nose flared, jaw clenched with hands gripping his knee. “How dare--” You glanced at him, biting the inside of your cheek, a worried expression painted your face. When he glanced at you, his eyes widened and his shoulders relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the Chairman. “We’ll do it, won’t we Jumin?” he looked surprised but made no objection. You leaned in close and whispered shyly, “I want to do something as thanks for this amazing trip.. and for you.” - Jumin dared to swallow. For me? What the hell does that mean? You were driving him crazy. Every time he looked at you he had to fight to readjust his attention to something else. Does she know what it does to me when she touches me? Even a little bit? When you’d put your hand on him, Jumin felt his chest and neck grow impossibly hotter, hotter than he’d been feeling when you’d first sat down next to him. Hotter than when you leaned in close and breathily asked him, “Jumin... how long until we’re at the airport?” It was like you’d drawn out every syllable, breathing out every consonant -- your breath tickling his neck. He imagined what it would feel like to have your plump, rosy lips on his neck, on his chest, on his lips, on his-- he was in over his head. He cursed himself for his lack of control. Usually, control was not an issue for Jumin -- in fact, he considered it one of his greatest strengths. From his leadership position in his father’s company, C&R, to his well-controlled temperament and stress management.. Jumin just didn’t do “no control”. At first, it intrigued him. He could remember the exact day it hit him. He’d invited you to an elegant dinner his company hosted to celebrate (in a sort of “humble-brag” sort of way) yet another successful business closing with one of the biggest corporations in America. He’d been finishing off yet another glass of his new Domaine de la Romanee-Conti he’d bought when his eyes at last placed you at the front of the champagne server. His eyes raked up and down the soft, silk gown that clung to your body in all the right places. The gown hung loosely, exposing your back and most of your chest, a sultry slit separating one of your elegant legs from the other hidden in the fabric. It was a breath-taking emerald color... but all Jumin could really think of is how he’d take it off. Your hair was curled and done-up marvelously with little white pearls decorating the crown of your head like you had stars in your hair... but all Jumin could really think of was how he’d mess it up. His cheeks were on fire. Everything in his body had risen in temperature of what felt like a hundred degrees. He twirled his wine glass between his fingers before setting it down at one of the well-decorated tables. I must have a fever, he thought, that must be it. Your eyes found his person just as he was turning around to leave, speed walking to one of the penthouse balconies for fresh air. You raced after him or at least followed him as fast as your obnoxious heels allowed you to go. You breathlessly met him as he was staring out into the night. Jumin realized that his temperature was slowly returning to normal. Perhaps the room was a bit suffocating. I’ll be sure to message Mr. Kim about increasing the air conditioning in the room. But... looking back on it now, Jumin knew he was lying to himself even then. Because, when he turned around he almost let out a shout. And his breath became uneven again, and it felt so burning hot all over again. You slowly crept toward him, donning a concerned expression saying, “Jumin... are you alright?” Jumin backed into the marble railing. He was so eloquent normally but all he could let out then was a choked, “Fine.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every step closer, he wanted to run. The stars were reflecting in your eyes and the moonlight made your supple skin look impossibly softer... You gently cupped his face and whispered, “Jumin, talk to me..? Please?” Jumin was heaving, looking down at you with rosy red cheeks and burning ears. “I--I think I have a... fever. A fever.” You gasped, taking one of your hands and lightly grasping the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly. His eyes widened as you took your other cold hand and placed it on his burning forehead. “Oh my god! Oh my gosh, we -- ambulance! An ambulance.. a doctor? Or.. are you... drunk?” “My room... please,” he begged. You looked him up and down, examining his face for strain or discomfort. When you couldn’t find any, you let out a breath -- perhaps you’d overreacted. Nonetheless, you swung his arm over your shoulder and trudged through the now quiet dining area. Most had filtered out to the ballroom for dancing. You’d been here a million times, so remembering the way was no chore. You fished through his shirt and coat pockets, running your gentle digits across his chest, assuming the moan Jumin gave off was due to pain, still, a blush flushed your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m almost done.” You held him against the wall since at this point he couldn’t stand. Maybe I am a little drunk, he thought. You moved down to his pants pockets, your hands roaming through a business card and other odds and ends, eliciting another soft groan from Jumin. “Almost there...” you breathed, at last pulling out a key card and with a soft beep, opening his penthouse suite. You gently carried him to his bed before going to grab a glass of water and a cold washcloth. When one was placed on the table and the other on his forehead, you at last placed a warm throw blanket you’d found in his closet over him. ...That memory became a source of numerous dreams. Jumin couldn’t forget it, no matter how many times he’d wished he wanted to (or wished it all to happen again). - You gazed at him, looking at the way his expression hardened at times, softening and then suddenly switching to an expression you’d never seen before. What was he thinking about? You bit your lip, nervous that Jumin might change his mind upon meeting this woman his business partner wanted him to marry. She was certainly more beautiful, right? After all, Jumin hadn’t necessarily made any physical contact voluntarily toward you more than an occasional back rub in your asked after a long day at work, or if he got drunk while you two accidentally stayed up late -- then he’d sometimes caress your face with a love-sick expression and saying little things like, “You’re beautiful.” It was cute, for sure, but what drunk doesn’t turn into a soft puddle of goo, complimenting everyone around them? You leaned into him as subtly as you could manage, closing your eyes to concentrate for a few minutes. - You jumped awake when a deep voice rumbled in your ear, “We’re here.” You could hear the slight smirk in his voice, and sure enough, when you looked up, you saw a slight smile on his face. “Did you have a good dream?” You looked toward your left, thankful the Chairman was already out of the limousine and speaking on his phone to someone. “I--I had a dream?” Jumin’s smirk stretched a little wider, “Yes. You said my name a couple times.” Your eyes widened in shock before saying, “Oh! That dream! Yeah, I was dreaming that you were being eaten alive by bears and I was forced to watch!” God, you were such a bad liar. Jumin blinked. He felt sort of stupid. “Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I see--” Grateful for his gullibleness, you added, “Why, what did you think I was dreaming about?” Jumin avoided eye contact saying, “Not anything in particular.” A call for Jumin interrupted your conversation, making Jumin almost run out of the limo. You smiled a bit, a little flush rising up to your ears. Jumin returned again, grabbing your hand. “This way,” was all he said. You followed him to the private jet that the Chairman was already boarding. You caught yourself staring at Jumin again as you followed him up the stairs to the entranceway of the cabin. Jumin smartly chose a seat far away from his father’s field of vision. He’d had enough of his unnerving looks when you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, whispering things Jumin was beyond grateful only he could hear... at least he hoped. When you occasionally began to whine a bit louder he’d quiet you down by running his hands through your hair and stealing glances toward his father nervously saying, “A nightmare.” He wondered if he’d fooled his father, because the Chairman lightly chuckled and made his way to the passenger seat of the limo, sliding the privacy door shut. It had only gotten worse from there, you almost shouted his name, but he covered your mouth. Heat had been pooling in his stomach for a while now, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. Still, every time he thought of waking you up, you’d grab at his chest or legs, effectively completely embolizing him. You, of course, were unaware of all of this. You sat down next to him eagerly and wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close to watch a movie on the jet screens. It was almost 9pm by now, the night sky beginning to close in on the quiet aircraft. Neither of you could remember when you fell asleep, only waking up to the soft announcement of arrival from the pilot on the overhead and a soft blanket placed over the two of you. You both groggily made your way to your waiting limousine to take you to the complimentary hotel stay at one of the chains owned by your expectant future business partner. “Of course, I know you two are just friends.” The Chairman looked at you two before continuing, “So I have two hotel rooms, you’re 17 and you, Miss Y/N, are 18. I’m in master suite 3, so feel free to reach out whenever.” His eyes glittered as he said, “Have fun. Remember to act like a loving fiance! Especially you, my son." Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in contempt. You turned your head toward Jumin, “Um, well, I’m pretty tired as you could probably already tell,” you laughed uncomfortably, “so I think I’ll head off to bed.” Jumin blinked a few times before saying, “I will as well. Goodnight, Y/N.” You whispered a shy goodnight in reply before slinking into your hotel room. - You awoke the next day to a call from a maid outside your door - room service. You thanked her before diving into your waffles, complete with chocolate dressing, whipped cream, strawberries, and powdered sugar. A glass of orange juice was delivered along with various other breakfast options and a bowl of kiwi, dragonfruit, apple, watermelon, honeydew, and almost any other fruit you could think of. Following your delicious breakfast, you padded over to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and running the shower. Going through your morning routine helped calm you despite the role you weren’t at all prepared to play in just a few hours. You jumped at the knock at your door. Looking through the peephole, it was Jumin. Flinging the door open, you looked at him expectantly. You were met with silence other than a few “uh.... uh....”s. You looked at him sarcastically, “What?” He continued to stare, not at your face, however. You laughed but quickly grew silent as you met his gaze. You were an actual moron. What. The. Fuck. You were still in your fucking panties?!?! You slammed the door shut, running to slip on some shorts you found lying on the ground in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath you gently opened the door this time. Jumin was standing still as a statue when he snapped out of his trance at last. He looked away, “Try not to be dressed. I mean STRESSED.” he sputtered, “I-I’m going to leave now--” “Um, Jumin?” He slowly turned around, face as red as a strawberry, “Yes?” “Um, sorry. About before. Um. Do you-- do you want to get some coffee? I’m still waking up, if you couldn’t already tell,” you laughed nervously. He smiled warmly, “I’d love to.” You awkwardly nodded before shutting your door. You ran to your hotel bed and screamed into one of the pillows. You cursed under your breath before making your way to the bathroom once more to finish the makeup look you had begun before being interrupted. After 45 minutes, you looked your outfit up and down. You packed outfits that were elegant -- you bought clothes that looked expensive but in the kind of way that was subtle. Nude tones and deep colors, specifically. You were aiming for a look that said, “I’m not rich, I’m just comfortable. And by that I mean I’m rich.” You were never insecure about the difference in your and Jumin’s paycheck.. but when you’re supposed to play a part. And if you showed up in your comfy joggers and t-shirt like you normally wore when you visited Jumin or were free from work.. you had a feeling their reaction wouldn’t be the most inviting or understanding. At last, you stepped out of your room, turning left to knock on Jumin’s door. He beat you to it, opening his door unexpectedly. This caused you to instead lean forward from your momentum and place your hand on his chest. You hurriedly adjusted his tie, doing your best to act as if that’s what you’d meant to do all along. Jumin appeared to be just as surprised, but grinned, “No leggings and t-shirt today?” You jabbed him with your elbow as you made your way to the coffee bar, “Do you think they’d be all welcoming to your soon-to-be wife if she showed up in lounge clothes?” “I’ve never complained.” You scoffed, “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re nice. And, you apparently understand that not everyone can live in a suit every day.” He paused for a moment before mumbling slightly, “Who cares what they think anyway.” “I do! I don’t want to let your dad down. I told him I’d do this. We’re in Monaco, Jumin! C’est la vie!” “Parles-tu français?”* “Oui..?” Jumin chuckled darkly before leaning in, saying, “Tu es juste trop mignonne.”** You blinked before replying, “...oui...?” Jumin looked at you incredulously with a slight smile on his face as he laughed, lightly ruffling your hair. Jumin ordered for you -- apparently, it was quite clear you only knew a few words in French. Unfortunately, he also paid for you, despite your objections. Before you could yank his platinum card out of his hands, the transaction was already complete. He gazed down at you, an eyebrow raised with a triumphant smirk, “Elle aura aussi beaucoup de crème dans son café.”*** “Hey, what are you saying?! Jumin!! Speak Korean or English or Japanese! Something I can understand!!” You complained. The worker interjected, “C’est tellement agréable de voir un couple sur leur ‘oneymoon.”**** You instinctively interjected, “Oh, that’s not--!” But Jumin just smiled and nodded. Upon sitting down at one of the many open tables, you let out a little giggle, “I wonder what it’ll feel like when I’m on the real thing.” Jumin quickly looked up from his staring contest with his coffee, “Real.. what?” You grinned dreamily, “Honeymoon.” “You.. want to get married?” “Don’t you?” Only to you, he thought. “Maybe. If the right person came along.” If you’d ever say “yes”. You held back the nervous twinge you felt in your throat, “Alright then, don’t be shy. What’s your type?” “My.. type?” “Yeah! Like, your ideal girl.” He paused, looking pensively at you. “Well, then I suppose my ‘type’ is a girl who is beautiful, and smart, and pretty... and always makes me laugh. And is bold but also shy.” His eyes widened as he grew quiet, “...something like that.” You were shocked. He said he’s never fallen in love before.. but it sounds like he already has some girl in mind. “Wow. You’ve... thought a lot about this.” Jumin looked surprised at himself -- he cleared his throat, “Just some ideas.” You were still skeptical but changed the subject, “So, what exactly does this whole ‘wifey’ thing entail?” “Most likely just a ring on your finger and a fake smile.” “Oh come on, there’s more to it than that.” “I’m sure my father has the details.” As if on cue, his phone chimed. “Ready to head out?” “Yep!” You weren’t entirely sure, but you were beside yourself with nervousness and a bit of excitement. If you can’t have the real thing, you shouldn’t complain about a chance to fake it, right? And sure, you knew it was much more complicated than that -- what if he realized your true feelings?! ...You shook the thoughts out of your head and made your way to the waiting vehicle outside of the hotel. - “Monsieur Lorenzi! Good to see you!” The Chairman shook hands with who you assumed was the boss. “Let me introduce to you my son, Jumin, and his beloved fiance, Y/n.” You waved, smiling despite the twang in your heart. You and Jumin shook hands while Mr. Lorenzi introduced you to his daughter. “It is so nice to meet you! This is my daughter, Ginevra.” Immediately, you sized Ginevra up -- and she does not look happy. “So.. you’re the bitch who stole Ju-Ju from me?” “Ginevra! Be polite, please?” Mr. Lorenzi practically begged her, but she wasn’t budging, “Oh, come on. Their ‘engagement’ hasn’t even been released to the press yet!” You looked worriedly between Jumin and Ginevra, but Jumin lovingly put his hand over yours, a soft smile on his face, “I’ll handle this, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help himself and lightly pecked your cheek, smirking into the kiss when he heard you elicit a small “oh!” Facing the irate woman, though, Jumin smiled in a way you’d seen him smile when he wasn’t particularly...happy.. about something. “Miss Ginevra, I can assure you Y/N and I are completely in love. She is my fiance, after all. That being said, we decided not to alert the media because we wanted our own privacy until the wedding.” Ginevra scoffed, “Please. You barely even look like you’re dating. Face it, I know you want me, Jumin.” She bit her lip in a way that was supposed to be seductive, but Jumin couldn’t hold back the slight cringe that crept onto his face. “T-that’s enough Ginev--” “God! Shut up, Dad! Mr. Lorenzi backed down at that, looking apologetic and embarrassed toward the Chairman and Jumin, and especially toward you. You were growing tired of the entire conversation, “Shall we sit down?” All except Ginevra agreed readily, the Chairman coughing in a way that sounded more like a laugh he was trying to conceal. Jumin's jaw clenched when he sat next to you, to your left and Ginevra quickly sat in the seat to his left. The meal went as well as expected. Jumin's father recognized that Jumin had his hands full and spent the majority of the dinner talking business with Mr. Lorenzi without his son. Meanwhile, you were awkwardly playing with your filet mignon, avoiding eye contact with everyone until Jumin leaned his face down to your avoidant eye level. You snapped out of your trance immediately. You looked up at him -- his eyebrow was raised with an inquisitive expression. Okay, that was adorable. You held back your intruisive thoughts, blinking up at him, silently asking, "What is it?" Jumin stared a little longer than necessary, before snapping out of his own trance and leaning in further and whispering in your ear, "...Are you alright?" You nodded in reply, "Just a little uncomfortable." Jumin gazed down at you in concern, "We can leave if you--" "No. No, I'll stay." Who knows what that girl will do if I leave. He didn't look convinced. Suddenly, Ginevra was calling for Jumin. Repeatedly. He turned in annoyance, "Yes?" Her voice got low, clearly to exclude you from the conversation, "Let's go somewhere..." she looked Jumin up and down slowly, "...else.." And with no shame, she lowered a manicured hand to his knee, slowly trailing it up to his thigh. He immediately grabbed her wrist, saying in a low, deadly voice, "I have a fiance." She sighed in frustration, "You're kidding yourself, baby--" Jumin's eyes widened suddenly, and not due to anything Ginevra was saying. Your hand was high on his thigh as you leaned into the conversation you'd heard the entirety of. "Miss... whatever your name is.... Jumin is my husband. Soon. We have something you could never dream of every having because your personality sucks. And honestly, only you can fix that." There was silence at the entire table for a moment before Ginevra turned her head quickly toward her father, "Daddy?!" Her father had already gotten up, ushering the business conversation to continue rather than deal with his trainwreck of a daughter. She huffed, looking red in the face, perhaps in embarrassment as well as anger. "Well, you still can't prove that you're even dating!" You very furious now, your glare cold enough to freeze the desert, "Is proof really the only thing that will shut you up?" Before she could even answer, you geared your pissed off expression toward a semi-intimidated, semi-turned on Jumin and grabbed his face, meeting his lips with your own. Your kiss was meant to only last a few seconds at most, but when you tried to pull away, Jumin only deepened the kiss, pulling your face harshly toward his own. He tugged at your hair, earning a loud moan from you as he forced his flush lips further onto yours, his tongue gaining entrance into your mouth. His eyebrows were deeply knit into a consentrated expression, groaning as he felt you readjust your position onto his lap. You stradled his lap, a leg on either side of him, your tongues battling for dominance as you fished for air between you two. At last, you both parted, heaving in big breaths as a string of spit clung between your mouths -- only to go in for another searing kiss. You began to roll your hips against his own, gently at first but quickly gaining more momentum and roughness as you two continued to make out. You'd noticed his hard-on the moment you'd straddled his lap but it only grew as you two began to explore the other's body. And just like that, you realized you were still in a formal dining setting. With other people. You pushed against Jumin's chest, looking around you in a frenzy. Ginevra was long gone along with the Chairman and Mr. Lorenzi. It was just the two of you, it looked as if it was after hours for the dining here. Soft jazz still played melodically through quiet speakers. Your eyes met back again with Jumin. He was smirking, still breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with mischief and a clear message that said something you probably would blush saying out loud. You laughed a little at the sudden turn of events. Did he like you? You wondered. He made quick work of dragging you (because your legs turned into jelly) out of the dining hall and back to his hotel suite. Jumin hurridely opened his hotel door before slamming you against the wall and continued to kiss you furvently on your neck, chest and of course, lips. He began to grind on you, letting out a soft curse when you mewled in his ear. Both your cheeks were completely red from the heated exchange and the embarrassment that both of you felt at your candid feelings. Yet something still bothered you. You pushed him away with all the strength you had because he was just so addicting. "J-jumin.... wait..." You gasped between breaths, "...I-I don't do this sorta thing... for fun..." Jumin frowned at this, his jaw feathering as he said darkly, "I don't either." You shook your head, "No, Jumin... I mean... I-I......" You took a big breath of air, "I'm in love with you. Have, for long time... pretty sure you don't feel .... the same wa--" Jumin's eyes narrowed as he dove in for another kiss with so much force that the air was nearly knocked out of you. "Y/N," he began, "Do you have any clue how much I've held back? Even now, do you know how hard it is for me not to pick you up and fuck you right here and now? Do you know how long--" He laughed sardonically, "Y/N, I swear you're doing this on purpose." "Doing wha--" "Making me fall deeper and deeper in love with you! I'm already pass the point of no return. Hell, I've never felt a fraction of what you make feel in a moment... in my entire life." You took a moment to really look at him. The expression of complete and udder desperation was now clear as day on his face, his cheeks flushed, breathing heavily, his tie loose around his neck, chest slightly exposed. He began again, "Please. Please... put me out of my misery. Say you're mine, please." Your eyes never leaving his, tears prickling your eyes, you answered, "I always was Jumin.. and I always will be. And, and if the offer still stands--" You blushed, looking down shyly and your feet, ashamed of your own boldness. Jumin's eyes pooled impossibly darker as he picked you up and led you to his bed, laying you down gently and asking, "I know this is probably soon but... Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth?" You laughed, pure joy on your face as you shamelessly cried, "Yes!" over and over again. Jumin couldn't hold back the huge grin that took over his face as he kissed you in between laughs.

TRANSLATIONS: * “Do you speak French?” ** “You are just too cute.” *** “She will also have a lot of cream in her coffee.” **** “It is so nice to see a couple on their honeymoon”

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it. He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways? He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to. As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back. Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back. He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you. He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind. You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket. “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden? Because his cheeks felt warm. “Uh, you don’t want me in there. I always fall asleep in theaters anyways. Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call. He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already. He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own. You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning. Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it. WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine. You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you. Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend. Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though? Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again. “And way too long! I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously. “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror. Something softer, something more sensitive. He liked this one better. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly. “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked. He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere. Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene. His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me? Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice. Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly. If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold. There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would. The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching. You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment. “Oh. Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned. “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing. “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him. “Is that why you did it? For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected. “You wouldn’t know anything about that. And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot. “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare. He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways. “How far is the car?”

“Uh, a block? Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad. I don’t know if I can make it.” You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first. You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk.

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow. The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily. It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal. You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said. It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend. He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend. He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you. He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door. Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways. I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears. “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed. “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural. “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him. “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little. “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private. “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question. Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out. Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV. He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this. When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something. And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly. He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited. His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen. “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged. “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded. “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes. Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked. “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously. Somebody will care someday, but not yet. He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer. When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit.

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead. What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene. The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame. The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse. The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene. And he was about to watch it with you.

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Note

ahh i’ve read all ur childe fics and they are absolutely amazing 🥺 i also live for angst and the way you portray ur characters emotions is emasculate *chefs kiss* is it possible if i may request an angsty childe fic where his s/o feels betrayed after finding out hes only been with her as part of the fatui’s plans but throughout the process childe actually falls in love and never meant to hurt them? and pls a fluffy ending bc my heart can’t take angst 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - Spoilers for Childe’s background.

Other Comments - Hello!! I am so glad that you are enjoying my stuff! I never would have imagined that I would receive so much positive feedback as I just started doing this but everyone has welcomed me with open arms hehe!! (//▽//) Anyway you are in luck because I absolutely love writing angst so lets go! Also these are heavily inspired by the songs Decode and All I Wanted by Paramore so I kinda recommend listening to them while you read. (๑˘︶˘๑)

Everyone you have encountered along your journey have been so friendly; all of them going out of their way to assist you. You have gained many friends along your way which have caused you to become quite a trusting person, to a fault at this point. Every person you have met with try their best to help you with your journey and leave a lingering friendship which you are incredibly grateful for. When you first decided you wanted to become an adventurer, your parents were extremely apprehensive, not trusting the world around you. You were determined to prove them wrong, and so far you have.

You had decided you wanted to settle down in Liyue for a while, exhausted from the constant traveling. This way you were always able to stay close around the Adventurers Guild. Along your journey of living in Liyue you had continued to meet many lovely and helpful people; one being a tall copper headed man.

During your travel and adventuring you had started to become a fairly big name, as you were incredibly skilled and managed to help save Mondstadt on a variety of occasions; even getting to know the grand master of the Knights of Favonius. So when a tall young man approached you, already knowing your name you weren’t all too surprised. You had already settled down into your small cozy apartment when he had come up to you.

“Excuse me, you don’t happen to be (y/n) do you?” You looked up, your eyes meeting bright blue ones as you found the owner of the soothing voice.

“Oh uh, yes that’s me. Is there something I can help you with?” A pleasant smile graced your face as the tall man gave a polite smile back before continuing.

“I was wondering if you could assist me with a domain, I seem to be having a bit more trouble with it than I had expected. I’ve heard you’re one of the best out there right now.” Your face flushed, something about this man was so endearing, and helping him out couldn’t be too hard, you had been able to defeat most of the domains in the area anyway so why not?

“Sure, I’d be more than happy to help you out! Are you an adventurer like I am?” You heard Childe let out a low chuckle.

“Oh no I am a Fatui Harbinger.” Wait- did he just say he was a Harbinger? You didn’t know much about the Fatui, but what you did know and have heard from other people was that the Fatui were always bad news. He didn’t seem like what everyone was saying though.

“Well then, when would you like to go?”

That was the beginning of your relationship with the Harbinger. After that you two both seemed to get along surprisingly well, and you found yourself struggling to stop seeing him. He was always on your mind, and with him almost always being around you that wasn’t helping either.

“So, where shall we go today darling?” Childe had decided to take up space in your already cramped apartment, not that you were complaining. It had been about six months since you had settled down in Liyue and you decided it was finally time to start traveling again. You had formed a really close connection with Childe, he always seemed to be your savior in situations that you needed it. You hoped that Childe would come along with you, but part of you had a feeling that he had to stay here for some reason.

“Well I was thinking I would go back to traveling again, I have stayed for about half a year so I think it’s time.” The smile that always seemed to find its place on Childe face quickly dropped, and you saw something change for a split second before returning back to normal.

“Oh well if that’s what you want then I am not going to stop you, but I can no longer accompany you, you better leave as soon as possible though.” Now what could he have said that for.

“So you can cover as much ground of course!” Childe must’ve picked up on your questioning gaze when he said that, as a reassuring smile found its way back to his face.

“I suppose you’re right, I need to say goodbye to the friends that I’ve made here though. Could you help me pack my things while I go do that?” A strong nod came from Childe before you granted yourself permission to leave.

It took you longer than you had anticipated to track down and say goodbye to all of the friends you had made here and Liyue, which you could blame Xiangling for as she made sure to make plenty of your favourite dishes for your trip.

As you approached your building you saw the back of the boy you knew so well, duck into a dark alley. Something could’ve been wrong, so to make sure he was okay you quietly followed a little ways behind.

“Are you deaf or just stupid? Your job was to get close to the dumb bitch and then bring them in. What is taking so long are you kidding?” A shorter man with a large hat was currently talking to Childe, surely they couldn’t be talking about you.

“Listen I know what my orders were, I was just waiting for a good time.” Childe’s voice was quite and his eyes were focused on the ground.

“If they’re leaving today, you better hope that they are still in Liyue for your own well being.” With that the shorter man quickly turned away and stormed off. So it was all a setup. Everything they did and talked about... All the things he told you... You as you were backing away in disbelief your shoe scuffed against the ground, causing Childe to whip around, those once familiar blue eyes meeting yours blowing out wide.

“(Y/n) wait-” You didn’t let him finish before you took off sprinting up to your apartment, hoping to get up there and lock yourself in. Was he going to kill you for over hearing?

You tripped a couple times going up the stairs hoping to the gods that you would still have enough time to shut and lock your door, all the while Childe was behind you begging for you to stop, for you to come back. Relief washed over you as your eyes found your door, adrenaline still pumping wildly through you.

“Please please please gods let me in!” You franticly attempted to unlock your door, the adrenaline making you shaky causing you to miss the keyhole. Your feverish prayers were answered when you flung the front door open, Childe’s loud footsteps pounding against the floor behind you. Right as you were slamming the door closed Childe’s body flew against the door, causing it to swing back open, hitting you in the process and tossing you to the ground; knocking the wind out of you.

Childe stood over you, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Was this the end? Were you going to die? Your wild eyes found his, the fear in them causing him to falter. He never wanted to see fear in your eyes, especially not because of him. The darkness of the night made it hard to see, the only light spilling in from the hallway through your open front door, spotlighting your face and the tears you had falling down your cheeks. You don’t remember when you started crying but it was obvious now. Neither of you spoke for a while, not knowing what to say. It was clear that Childe wasn’t going to kill you, but that still left a plethora of issues.

“You...” You began to speak, your voice shaky and uncertain. Childe’s eyes silently begged for you to stop.

“You took advantage of me. Everything was a lie. Was anything that came out of your mouth true?!” Sadness and anger flushed your face and you slowly rose to your feet.

“(Y/n) please... I never meant for it to go on this long.” That didn’t help his situation, that sentence having the same effect of putting water on an oil fire. Anger bloomed from your chest, almost making it hard to breathe.

“I trusted you! I guess this is all my fault for putting my trust into a Fatui Harbinger! Childe’s not even your real name! I know NOTHING about you!! And... and I let you stay with me! Keep me company! I let you put your filthy hands on me! You kissed me!!” Tears began to spill faster, but not just from you this time.

“(Y/n) please my feelings and actions towards you were no lies!! I admit this was all set up, but then I began to truly fall in love with you!! You have to believe me!” A loud broken laugh escaped your lips, almost like a bark.

“Believe you?! Again I don’t even know your real name-”

“Tartaglia.” This stopped you in your tracks, you couldn’t quite make sense of what he said.

“What?” Your words were barely above a whisper.

“My name. It’s Tartaglia. My family calls me Ajax. I am the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui. I moved to Liyue as a debt collector. I don’t want to be in the Fatui, not ever since I met you. You knew who the Fatui were and still chose to trust me. No one except my family has ever looked at me the way you do. I am from Snezhnaya. My birthday is July 20th. I enjoy ice fishing and combat. I have many siblings, a couple younger brothers named Teucer and Anthony and I have a sister named Tonia. See? You know so much more now!” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you just stared at him. Childe or Tartaglia rather, was clearly getting anxious at your silence, as he shifted around more or fiddled with his gloves. He was normally so confident, so seeing him like this was shocking.

“(Y/n) please, say something; anything.” The desperation in his voice made your chest tighten. What could you say? On one hand you wanted to just forgive him and fall into his arms, on the other hand he had completely destroyed your trust; were you really willing on forgiving him that easily?

“Childe... I...” You could see Tartaglia flinch, not used to the tone of his code name on you tongue. He wanted so desperately for you to just say his real name. He wanted to embrace you, for you to forgive him. He would find a way out of this for the both of you.

“(Y/n) I will help you. I fell in love with you. I knew the second I set my eyes on you that I say going to fall for you. I will get you out of this situation, I have to. I know it’s stupid to say this now, but you have to trust me on this. After I get you out of here is when you can hit me scream at me and tell me never to see you again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore as you began to cry again. Tartaglia stepped close to you, slowly to make sure that you had a way to back up if you didn’t want him to get closer. When you didn’t move he took that as an ‘okay’ to get close, and that’s what he did.

Slowly the distance between the two of you closed as Tartaglia sunk to his knees and clung to you. His hold on you was iron tight, as he waited and hoped for you to return the hold; which much to his surprise you did. You clung to him and cried.

“I will make you trust me again (y/n). I will make you trust me and I will keep you safe. You have my word. I love you.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact imagine #childe imagine #childe imagines #tartaglia imagine #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagine

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elianamarie-blog · 2 years

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And Off She Goes: The Final Decision

Part 2! I tried to make it longer, but tumblr only allows 1,000 words or characters, something like that. Oops, oh well lol. I hope you enjoy the final part of this 2 part series! Thanks Anon for requesting this! It was pretty fun to write :)

Kelso walked into the living room to see Robbie sitting on the couch with Leia, Luke, and Betsy. Those two had been inseparable ever since he introduced them and he honestly couldn't be happier. When they met, it was awkward at first and looking at them was like looking at polar opposites. Betsy, looking more like Brooke than Kelso, with her long flowing brown hair, with Brooke's brown eyes and inherited her tall frame and slim figure. While Robbie had the same hair color and eye color, she had Kelso's eyes all the way, shoulder length hair, and was a little bit shorter, with Y/n's height and body figure.

Kelso was worried that those weren't going to get along, but when the started talking about teenage girl stuff, they became instant best friends, and Kelso was so grateful for it.

"Hey, Robbie, what are you doing?"

"Watching Friends," she responded, barley looking up. "What's up?"

He let out a nervous breath and rubbed his hands together. "You like food?"

"It's pretty essential for living, so yeah, I would say that I do," she quipped, this time looking at him with a smirk.

She had her mother's sarcasm and same devious look. He looked at his daughter with an amused smile before shaking his head. "Do you want to go grab food and maybe a catch a movie?"

"All three of us?" Betsy asked.

"No, honey, just me and Robbie."

"Oh, okay," she responded, confused, thankfully understanding why.

"Uh...yeah, sure," Robbie responded and stood up, giving her cousins and sister a quick squeeze for a hug before grabbing her coat off the coat rack. "Where we going?"

"What food do you like?"

She shrugged. "Pizza or burgers are fine."

"Yeah? You like burgers?" he asked, smiling. "I do too. I know a great joint we can go to."

"Do you have an In-N-Out here?" she asked as they walked out the door and up the concrete steps.

"Do we have a what?"

Her eyes grew wide. "Seriously?! You don't have one here."

"No," he responded slowly but smirked. "But I know a pretty damn good place for one."

"Fatso Burger?" Robbie asked as they pulled up to the giant clown head. "Really? What is it like, a McDonald's or something?"

"First of all, how dare you disrespect Fatso Burger?" Kelso asked, feigning offense. "It's way better than McDonald's!"

"I don't know," she replied, getting out of the car.

"Looks like Miss California hasn't seen it all then."

Robbie looked at him with a glint in her eye. "Have you ever been to Disneyland?"

"No. Have you?"

"Dude, I live in southern California, of course I have!"

"Lucky," he murmured, opening the door for her. "I wish I could go to Disneyland."

"Looks like Mr. Wisconsin hasn't seen it all then," she mocked him, causing a laugh to escape him.

"Okay, okay truce."

As they walked to the front counter, she scanned the menu as they waited in line.

"Do you know what you're going to get?" he asked her.

She hummed. "No, not really. What do you recommend?"

"Well, what do you like?"

"The fattier the better. I like lots of bacon and fat and all the other goodness that can clog your arteries."

Kelso nodded his in approval. "You and I have that in common. I'll get you what I'm having."

When they reached to the cash register, they ordered their meal and sat down at a booth, waiting for their food.

"So, what movie are we going to go see?" she asked as they sat awkwardly at the table.

"What do you want to see?"

"Well, there's this movie that came out last week and I really want to see it."

"Which is?"

"Father of the Bride Pt: 2."

"So, you like comedy?"

"Oh, yeah," she responded. "I love comedy, action, horror, maybe even a good rom com or two, but not really into those chick flick type movies."

He chuckled to himself, starting to see the resemblance and similar interests.

"Alright, kid. I got you. I got a place to take you after the movies."

Y/n was sitting down on her bed, painting her nails when she heard a knock on the door.

"It's open."

Donna emerged through awkwardly and cautiously. "Hey."

"Hey," Y/n replied surprised. "What's up?"

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm doing okay," Y/n answered, feeling hopeful that her best friend was talking to her again. "How are you?"

Donna nodded with tight lips. "I'm doing alright. I'm still in shock that you're here."

"Yeah? Me too."

"It feels like you never left, even though you did for seventeen years..."

Y/n sighed and screwed the maroon red bottle cap on. "Listen, I know I was gone for a long time...longer than I should've and I'll forever regret that and be sorry for the rest of my life. And I know you're pissed at me, so if you're going to yell at me, go ahead. I deserve it."

"No, that's actually not why I'm here."

Y/n was taken aback by this. "What's up?"

Donna sighed and walked over, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I-I wanted to say that I was sorry for how I reacted seeing you and how I've been acting towards you this last week."

Y/n frowned. "Donna, you don't have to apologize. I know I hurt you; I hurt everybody. You have every right to be pissed at me."

"I know, but...someone very wise told me that I needed to be an adult and just tell you how I feel instead of being mad at you and..." She fiddled with her hands, a nervous habit that she developed during childhood. She took a deep breath and looked Y/n in the eye. "You really hurt me when you left and stopped making contact with me. Even when I tried to call or write to you, I never heard anything back. I always wondered what I did wrong to make you drop me like that."

Y/n looked down in shame. "It wasn't something you did. It was something I did and was too scared to come forward and take responsibility for it."

"I know that now," Donna responded. "I just...I really missed my best friend. Robbie told me that you talk about me to her. I didn't think you even thought about me anymore. Or about any of us."

Y/n shook her head. "There wasn't a day where I didn't think of all you. Donna...I am so sorry what I did. If I could take it back I so would. I'm more ashamed of myself now than when I found out I was pregnant with Kelso's baby."

"Yeah, speaking of that," Donna said. "When the HELL did you sleep with Kelso? And why?"

Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at Donna's reaction. "It during my holiday break and it was after I walked in on Steven cheating on me. Kelso took me out for a burger the day after and...I was really broken up about it and he wanted to help me feel better."

Donna's shocked gaze never left Y/n's face. "Seriously?"

Y/n nodded. "Yeah..."

"Did you know that he had feelings for you?

She nodded, lips in a thin line. "I did. I wish I would've seen that."

"When you left...I'd never seen him so...depressed," Donna continued. "He was a complete different person."

"So I've heard."

"No, I don't think you really understand the full extent of it. He just...stopped living for a while. It's like he was on autopilot the whole time. We thought he was just sad that you left, but when you never came back, it all made sense."

Y/n looked up at him. "I didn't know that part."

Donna nodded, eyes casting down. "Took him a while to get back to normal." She looked back up at Y/n who was looking at her with watery eyes. "But I'm really glad you're back."

"Me too," she said lowly. "I made a mistake that I'll never be able to make up for. I'm hoping my being here is a way to start."

"It won't if you disappear for another thirteen years."

"No, no." Y/n shook her head. "I actually plan on being here more often. After seeing everybody and your children...I want to be apart of their lives more. And Robbie deserves it."

Donna gave her a genuine smile for the first time. "I'll hold you to it."

"Besides, I think it'll be good for her. She doesn't exactly have the best reputation back at home."

The red head shrugged. "It could be. Being around more family and knowing that she is loved will probably keep her from getting into trouble."

"Yeah..." Y/n trailed off.

"I forgive you by the way," Donna said after a minute of silence. "I stayed so mad at you for seventeen years. I'm tired of harboring my anger and seeing you here...I just can't do it anymore."

Y/n nodded, tears brimming her eyes for the hundredth time since coming home. "Thank you. That means so much to me."

"Doesn't mean I can't forget what you did though," she continued. "You could've told me that you were having a baby. I would've helped."

"How? I lived across the country."

"My mom lives there you dink," Donna said and chuckled. "I would've found a way."

"You're not the only one who's told me that and I wish I would've believed it."

"Now you do and that's what matters."

Y/n nodded. "Thank you, Donna."

Donna stared at her for a moment before rolling her eyes with a grin on her face. "Bring it in, you big, emotional baby."

Y/n laughed, sniffling as she wrapped her arms around her best friend. "I'm still so sorry. I hope we can move passed this."

Donna pulled away and sat back. "If you're around more often, than yeah. We'll get through it. We always did and we always will."

Y/n wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I promise."

"Good. Now, I need to know more details about you and Kelso!"

Y/n laughed. "It was...incredible. The best night of my life. And quite frankly, the best I've ever had."

Donna's eyes grew wide. "Seriously?! Oh, my God!"

"Yeah," Y/n responded with a bewildered smile. "He definitely knows how to please a woman."

"Oh, my God!" Donna laughed. "I still can't believe it! You were sleeping with Hyde for a while and then slept with Kelso, making you have his baby!" She lightly punched Y/n's arm. "Why didn't you tell me about you and Hyde?! I can understand Eric, but seriously! You know how to keep a secret."

"Ow!" Y/n laughed and rubbed her arm. "We didn't want anyone to know because, well, it would've stirred so much trouble. And besides, it was hotter that way." She winked at Donna who then eyes rolled into the back of her head, almost falling off the bed.

"I can believe it!" she screeched.

"Yeah, join the club."

"But Kelso?" Donna said. "You decided to go with the playboy of the town and then got knocked up by him."

"You know as I scared as I was, I don't regret it. I regret what I did to Robbie, but I love her more than life itself."

"Well, that's one hell of a goodbye gift," Donna laughed.

"Yeah, a very expensive goodbye gift," she giggled.

Donna got up from the bed and headed for the door. "Well, I better go shopping. I need to finish up my Christmas shopping."

Y/n nodded. "Have fun. I'll talk to you later."

"...Do you want to come?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun. We can grab some hot chocolate and go have lunch if you'd like."

Y/n tried to not show her excitement as she got up from the bed. "Yeah...I would love to come! Thank you. I've been wanting to get more presents for Robbie and everyone else."

"Great," Donna smiled. "I'll get my purse."

"Where are we going?" Robbie asked as they drove down an empty road, Christmas music playing softly in the background.

"You'll see," he responded. "It's nothing special, but it's a place where me and your mom and everybody else used to hang out. Holds a lot of memories."

He turned onto a dirt road as Robbie knitted her eyebrows together. "Is there where you're going to murder me?"

Kelso couldn't help but laugh. "No, not at all."

Robbie nodded, biting the inside of her lips as he slowly drove through a wooded area.

"Mom tells me you used to be a cop."

He stopped the car and put it into park as they reached their destination. "Yeah, I was. I wasn't a very good one."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why's that?"

"I got kicked off the force," he said without looking up at her.

She scoffed. "For what?"

"For being a dumb, young kid," he responded and looked up into his daughter's eyes--his eyes. "Your mom told me what a troublemaker you are back at home."

She averted his eyes and looked down into her lap. "Yeah, a little bit."

"Look, I know a part of it has something to do with me not being there for you, but I want you to know that I would've if I had known about you. I used to get into a lot of trouble when I was your age."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "The things we would pull, I swear I'm surprised we didn't end up in prison. Of course, most things we pulled were mostly harmless."

"Yeah? Like what?" she asked, turning to him.

"Well, for starters, we used to trench a neighbors yard just because he was a grumpy old man. Now, it's not so funny ever since getting my own house."

She laughed. "What else?"

"Well, um," he said, thinking before clicking his tongue. "One Christmas, we took presents that were meant for the less fortunate kids and opened them all."

Her eyes grew wide. "No! You didn't!"

Kelso laughed. "We did. Your grandfather caught us and I swear I was about to see what the inside of my ass looked like."

Robbie's face scrunched up as her dad laughed. "That's an image."

"No, but seriously, we almost got our asses kicked."

"What else?" she asked, more curious than ever.

"Well, the worst one I did is when I got together with Laurie, your aunt."

"You didn't!"

"I did," he laughed. "Let me tell you, Eric and Red were not happy."

"And then you slept with mom, impregnating her."

"Yep. Just my luck," he said, scoffing, but turned to look at her. "But I wouldn't change it."

Robbie gave him a tight lipped smile. "I'm glad you don't regret me or Mom."

"No, of course not. Listen, what happened between me and your mom...I wouldn't take it back. My only regret is not knowing about you and not being able to be apart of your life."

"It's not your fault though. It's Mom's."

"I know," he agreed, nodding. "But it was you who got the short end of the stick. And that wasn't fair."

Robbie looked down sadly. "It really wasn't. I missed out on a lot."

It was silent for a minute as Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas was the only sound filling the air.

"But Mom already knows that," she continued. "And honestly, even though what she did was really crappy, I think she's suffered enough. She's been through a lot this last week with being here."

He nodded. "You're probably right."

"She's still a really good mom though. She made sure I was always taken care of. She wasn't around much because of how much she had to work and study, but when she was there, she was the best."

A soft smile spread on his lips. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

A grateful smiled graced her face as she looked ahead. "Are we front of a water tower?"

Kelso snapped out the sentimental moment and looked forward. "Yeah. We hung out here quite a bit."

Robbie raised an eyebrow at him. "You hung out here? Couldn't find anywhere else to hang out?"

"Hey, it was the 70's in the middle of nowhere. We didn't have much have a beach to go to."

"What about lakes?"

"Do you want to drive at least two hours everyday?"

She made a face at him. "That sounds miserable."

He shrugged at her. "It's not so bad. After living in Chicago for a while, you tend to miss it here. This is home, you know?"

Robbie bobbed her head, agreeing. "I can understand that."

"Yeah...come on let me show all the spots where I fell," he said excitedly and jumped out the car.

"You WHAT?" she exclaimed, following after him.

Kelso laughed as he led her closer to the tower. "Yeah. I had to have fallen off this thing countless times."

"There's the missing piece to the puzzle," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing," she grinned and looked up, seeing a familiar green leaf. "Is that a pot leaf?"

Kelso looked up, breaking out into a smile. "Yeah," he laughed.

She stared at it, protruding her tongue into her cheek. "That is the most 70's thing I've ever seen." She looked a little bit farther to the right and saw a familiar black heart. "Does that say 'Kelso and Jackie forever?'"

"Yeah, I dated Jackie for a while," he chuckled. "Hyde was not pleased. And I fell off the tower right after that."

Robbie cleared her throat. "No comment."

"Yeah...probably be better if you didn't."

"You guys sound like you were a mess."

He sighed, rubbing his neck. "We were. But at the end of the day, we were family."

"Yeah...must be nice."

As he stared up at the water tower, he could still hear the distinct laughing, joking, cheering, and screams as he fell off the tower.

"I'm going to go up," Robbie announced and made her way towards the ladder.

"What--? No!" He ran after her, stopping in front of her. "It's way too dangerous!"

"That's rich coming from you."

He looked at her dumbfounded. "Did you not just hear what I told you?!"

"You worry too much." She pushed passed him and he easily grabbed her elbow.

"No, you're not," he said sternly. "I'm not going to let you get hurt. I got lucky that I wasn't killed. Someone did die from falling here and I will not let you be the next one."

"Come on, I've done worse."

He eyed her. "Like what?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter."

"Mhmm. That's a still a no from me."

"Then come up with me."

"No."

"Come on, please?"

"No."

"Just a little bit?"

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean, but no."

"C'mon...for old times sake?" She gave him these puppy eyes--her mom's puppy eyes--that he couldn't resist.

He groaned in frustration. "Okay, fine! But only for five minutes."

"Okay!" she said excitedly and skipped towards the ladder, climbing it eagerly.

"Robbie, be careful!" he called out as he climbed the ladder after her. "These railings get slick when cold out! Besides, who knows when the last time this was worked on."

"I'll be fine!" she called out as she was already half way up.

"Hey slow down! I'm not as young as I used to be."

"C'mon, old man, you can do this!"

"Oh, I know you just didn't call me old!"

She reached the top and stuck her tongue at him. "Come on!" When she stood up straight, she saw the view. It was covered in trees, but through the branches, she could see the neighborhood. "Oh wow, this is cool."

Kelso met her at the top, out of breath. When he looked down, he didn't realize how far up it was and felt his world start to wobble. He clung onto the rail, desperate to steady himself. "Oh, I forgot how high this was."

"You scared of heights?" she teased.

"Not usually," he gulped. "I haven't been up here in years."

She giggled at him. "Come on, Mr. Police Officer, didn't you have to save cats from trees or something like that?"

"That's firemen," he said, gripping the railing with white knuckles.

She made a face at him as if to say oh, I'm sorry, my bad, but with a little more attitude.

"Okay, whatever," she said. "But didn't you like, have to save people from jumping off buildings or bridges or whatever?"

He nodded, trying not to show his nervousness. "Yeah, but I was usually on steady ground."

"Just don't look down," she suggested and took a seat on the edge with her feet dangling. "It's easier if you sit down."

"Yeah, I got it," he said and took a seat next to her, grunting. "I'm not as in shape as I used to be."

"Yeah, you're like, what, fifty?" She smirked at him.

He made a face at her. "Ha, ha very funny. I'm actually thirty-seven."

"Whatever, you're still old."

"Hey, before you know it, you'll be my age too."

"Nah," she teased, elbowing him lightly and looked down.

"So, uh," he said awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Any, uh, any boys?"

She blew air out of her nose, chuckling and scratched her eyelid, doing her best to avoid eye contact. "No."

"You...like boys...right? I mean, I don't judge!"

"Oh, my God, yes," she laughed. "I just...uh, I don't know. Haven't found one that is worth it."

He nodded his head, feeling a little relieved. "That's good."

"I mean, that didn't stop me from getting to know some boys--"

"Yeah, okay, I don't need to hear anymore."

She threw her head back, laughing. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a prude. Mom told me you were a lady killer in high school."

"Yeah, not my finest moments," he replied, looking down at her.

"What made you change then?"

A beat passed before he smiled softly at her. "Your mom. And then your sister."

Robbie looked down, playing with her nails. She felt a little awkward at the sudden sentiment in his voice, but also felt a warmth spread through her chest. Something she never felt before. Not like this. The closest thing she ever felt this was when she would tangled in the sheets with a boy, but that was nothing compared to this feeling. "I wouldn't take you as a family man."

Snickering, he looked away from her and straight ahead into the trees. "I didn't use to be."

"And now?"

He gently nodded. "Yeah, I am. And I wouldn't even think about going back to the way I was. I wouldn't want my daughters being with someone like me."

My daughters. The words she longed to hear from him her whole life seemed to flow naturally to him. She wasn't used to hearing it that came from a man.

She smiled to herself before looking up at him. "You already look at me as your daughter, huh?"

"Well, yeah. Because you are," he answered and turned to look at her completely. "Listen, I want to be apart of your life. However that may be. I want to..." he sighed, trying to figure how to get out what he was feeling without scaring her away. "I want us to have that bond that me and Betsy do. Regardless how far I am or how long I've known you. I just want to be in your life. If you'll have me..."

Robbie nodded, sniffling. "I want that too."

He gave her tightlipped smile and nodded. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Do you still like my mom?"

He froze at her question. He definitely wasn't expecting that. Did he still have feelings for her? It's been so long since he'd last seen her and she hurt him deeply, more than anyone has ever hurt him. But seeing her again, seeing how beautiful she looked even after all these years, made his heart start beating the same way like when they were in high school.

All these years, no one had been able to make him feel like that. And he was so sure it was because he hadn't found the right woman. Yes, he had dated other women, slept with them, but none of them compared to her. Never to Y/n. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about their night together almost two decades ago. He thought about it almost everyday. Especially when he was home alone at night.

He knew when he told her that he didn't love her anymore, it was probably a lie, but he promised himself after she left he would never fall back in love with her. But now...he wasn't sure anymore. And that worried him. A lot.

"I'm...not sure," he said slowly. "Your mom and I went through a lot."

"I know. She told me," she replied and looked ahead into the thick of the trees.

"I'm sorry you grew up in a broken home," Kelso said after a minute of silence, his heart wrenching.

"It wasn't broken. Not completely anyway," the younger Kelso replied and grinned at him, showing her dimples. "Just...small. I didn't realize how broken it was until...well, until I came here."

Michael hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching his hand over to her head and caressed her hair, afraid Robbie would pull away, but she didn't. Instead, she welcomed it and just with a fraction of an inch, leaned into his touch.

They thought this would be awkward, and maybe it was a little bit, but neither of them realized just how much they needed a moment like this--especially her. And the longer she stayed in Point Place, the less she wanted to leave.

--Time Skip--

"Do you think Robbie would like this?" Donna asked as she held up a light blue sweater.

"Probably the design but not the color," Y/n responded and walked over to the rack where Donna stood. "If it's black she'll like it the most. She's into that punk rock look."

"Seriously, are you sure she's Kelso's kid?" Donna joked. "She sounds a lot like Hyde in high school."

Y/n laughed and looked up from the rack to her friend. "Yeah, she definitely is. I think she looks more like him than me."

"I see it," the red head replied and draped a black version of the sweater over her arm. "She also looks a lot like you."

She smiled and shook her head. "Nah, she's beautiful...like her father."

Donna snapped her head up at her friend who was too busy going through racks to find another sweater for Kitty. "What did you say?"

Y/n's eyes snapped up to Donna's wide ones. "I--I just said t-that Robbie looks like Michael. That's all," she stammered, chuckling.

"No, you didn't!" Donna almost exclaimed. "You said she's gorgeous like her dad!"

Y/n shushed her feverishly as people started to stare. "Keep your voice down, will you? I don't need the whole store to hear."

"You like Kelso, don't you?"

Y/n sighed and turned back to Donna. "I don't know," she replied after a beat passed. "We were best friends in high school. I mean, we were really close. I saw a side of him that even you guys didn't really see. I never even looked at him that way."

"Because you had a thing for Hyde," Donna deadpanned and started looking through the racks of close again.

"Yeah, pretty much, but Donna, I just...ditched him. Without a second thought."

"Yeah, I know," she grumbled.

"I was so caught up in Hyde's and I relationship and then clouded by my heartbreak that I..." she trailed off, reliving the past. Like a movie was playing out in her head. "I just left him...in the dust. I had no idea about his feelings towards me or even how much I hurt him when I left."

"You had no idea?" Donna asked incredulously. "What friend sleeps with another just to 'make you feel better?'" She air quoted.

"I just thought he'd always wanted to get into my pants like he did with you and Jackie and well, every other girl in school." Donna raised an eyebrow at her. "Look, I didn't know, okay?! Can you blame me? I was so devastated that I didn't even care if I became on of those other girls. I just wanted to feel better."

"And did you?"

Y/n shrugged. "Kinda, yeah...at the time. I mean, he was the best I've ever had. Even now, I've been with a few guys after him and the sex was never the way it was with Michael. No man could ever compare to him."

"So...it sounds like you compared every guy you've dated to him?"

Y/n thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I guess so. No guy was ever as sweet as him, or as funny as him, or who...wasn't anything like him."

"Yep. You like Kelso."

"Shut up! No, I don't."

"You so do!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No--!"

"Alright, we could do this all day," Donna cut in. "You like him, don't deny it."

Y/n slumped her shoulders. "I don't know...maybe." She wiped a hand down her face in frustration. "It's pointless too since I'm going back to California after New Years and he's going back to Chicago."

Donna didn't respond but flicker her eyes up to Y/n before going back to earrings that she was just looking at.

"It's not like it would matter anyway," Y/n continued. "It's too late. He's moved on. And I'm the idiot that didn't see what was in front of me this whole time."

"I wouldn't say he's moved on," Donna said casually as she added a necklace to her cart.

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're as oblivious as you were in high school," she grumbles and sighs. "He still has feelings for you."

"No, he doesn't!"

"Are you blind?! I see the way he's been looking at you. It's like we're in high school all over again. You know, except with kids."

"Donna, even if I did liked him, it really doesn't matter. He wants nothing to do with me. To be realistic, he's going to be involved in our daughter's life and that's it. And that's all I need."

"As long as you're happy..."

"I am," Y/n said shortly. "Robbie needs her father and seeing her happy here has never made me as happy as I am now. She deserves this."

"Okay, well, I better not see you in another thirteen years declaring your love for Kelso."

Y/n laughed. "That won't ever happen."

"I'll hold you to it."

Later that evening...

Y/n and Donna were holed up in the living room wrapping their presents for everyone. Eric had taken the kids out to eat, allowing them to wrap the gifts.

With the last fold of paper and tape, the two women had finished their shopping and their wrapping. The whole time, they joked and laughed just like they used to in high school...and Y/n didn't realize just exactly how much she missed it until now.

"So, what are you going to do for the rest of the night?" Donna asked after they were done putting the gifts under the tree. They now sat on the couch, drinking a glass of wine.

"I don't know," she answered. "Maybe watch some TV, read a little...I'm on vacation, so the possibilities are endless. What about you?"

"Well, Hyde and Jackie are coming over later...and so is Kelso..."

Y/n froze for a fraction of a second before sipping on her wine. "Okay, sounds fun."

"Yeah, Hyde says he has a surprise for all of us."

The y/h/c knitted her eyebrows together. "Like what?"

"I don't know, but he seemed pretty excited about it."

Y/n shrugged. "Guess we'll find out when he gets here."

Later, later that night...

"Man, I haven't done this in a really, really long time," Hyde said, eyes red and halfway closed.

The familiar smoke wisped and floated throughout the room.

"Me neither," Eric coughed. "Having kids changes you." He looked around the familiar room, memories from high school hitting him like a freight train. "But this basement sure hasn't."

"No kidding," Y/n stated and looked at her old friends group with hazy eyes. "I haven't been able to do this since I moved. I don't know anyone in California that can get this stuff so easily. Hey, Hyde, is Leo still kicking it?"

"That's where I got my stash from, man," Hyde responded with lazy smile.

"Where is Leo?" Donna asked, slowly and squinting.

"He's everywhere, man," Hyde said breathily. "Everywhere. I turn around and bam! he's there. I don't know how he does it. He's like some sort of ninja man!"

Sitting to his right was Kelso, smiling widely and laughing. "You think if we turned around he's here right now?"

"No, you idiot," Fez said. "He's a ninja, not the teleporter."

"Who's the teleporter?" Jackie asked, head resting against Hyde's shoulder.

Fez shrugged with a large smile plastered on his face. "I don't know. I just made him up." He gasped and stared at the group wide eyed. "That would be such a cool superpower!"

"I think I'd rather be Luke Skywalker," Eric said.

The group groaned.

"Eric, you've been saying that since 1977. Give it a rest, will ya?" Y/n said and turned back to Hyde. "Hey, isn't there a car that runs on water?"

Hyde gasped as everyone turned their attention to Y/n.

"Why? Why--why would you mention that?" Eric said. "Now, we're never going to hear the end of--"

"There's this car that runs on water, man!" Hyde exclaimed excitedly.

"WE KNOW," the group said in unison.

Silence took over before they all burst into fits of laughter.

"Man, this is just like old times!" Kelso laughed.

"It's like nothing's changed!" Jackie added.

"Well, not exactly," Eric said and jerked his head towards the stairs. "You know, if it wasn't for the kids sleeping upstairs."

"Yeah, just like old times," Y/n mumbled, hunched over, stealing a glance over to Kelso through her eyelashes.

Kelso mirrored her sitting position, picking at his nails as he dared to look up at her. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away, ignoring the sudden skip in his heartbeat.

Donna noticed and leaned back in the lawn chair, eyeing them two. "Maybe not, but it's pretty damn close."

Y/n was about to ask what she meant by that when she heard someone calling her.

"Mom?"

Y/n gasped and jumped up from her seat. "Get rid of it! Get rid of it!" she squeaked, whispering. She fruitlessly waved the air with her hands as if trying to fan out the smoke.

Hyde and Kelso quickly grabbed the leftover stash and threw it in the bathroom while Donna opened the door and grabbed a nearby fan, plugged it in, and turned it on.

"Act natural!" Y/n whispered-yelled.

Hyde scrambled to sit in his what-used-to-be normal seat and fumbled for his aviators, but failed to realize he didn't wear those anymore. So, he opted for a random magazine on the table that hasn't been touched since 1979 and covered his face.

Jackie dive bombed for the seat next to him on the couch, keeping a straight face and stared straight ahead with no expression on her face, pretending to be concentrated on whatever was in front of her.

Donna quickly turned the tv on to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air playing and jumped onto the couch next to Jackie and raised her long legs on the table with one draping over the back of the couch, and pretended to watch the tv.

Kelso ran over to the old record playing and pretended to examine an old Styx record, but decided to exaggerate it and hold it up in the air with his pointer finger and thumb caressing his chin.

Fez stumbled, turning around frantically, trying to decide where to sit when he ran over to the freezer and leaned over the freezer a little too much--at an awkward angle of all things. He looked up and saw Eric sitting on a chair--backwards. Not even facing the TV. Away from it actually, facing the stairs.

Thankfully, Eric was facing Fez and Fez gave him the widest smile, fakest smile he was able to muster.

Y/n stared at her friends with deadpanned eyes and jaw slack. The fact that they were full, grown adults with lives and children who still acted like rebellious teenagers blew her mind.

"Now, is this acting natural?" she hissed.

"You're judging us?" Hyde asked, judgment dripping in his tone. "You're the one leaning against the door like you're some 1940's detective hiding in the shadows."

Y/n opened her mouth to respond when she heard footsteps on the heavy wooden stairs. "Mom?"

"Hi, honey!" Y/n said awkwardly, plastering on a smile. "What're you doing up?"

"I wanted some water...what're you doing?" Robbie asked, noticing everyone in weird position. She noticed the weird, skunk-like smell emitting from the room. "You guys burning some incense or something?"

"Yes," Y/n answered. "That's what we're doing. Just hanging out like the old days."

Robbie eyed everyone who were all acting...strange. "Do you guys normally hang out at 1 o'clock in the morning like this?"

"Like what, baby?" Y/n asked, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

"All...weird and stuff..."

"Yes, we do," Kelso responded. "We're just a weird group when we all get together."

"Okay..." Robbie responded slowly. "I'm just going to go get some water and...go back to bed." She looked at them suspiciously before turning around and head back upstairs.

The smell, the behavior...oh yeah, it was all too familiar with the seventeen year old girl. She knew exactly what they'd been doing. She smirked to herself as she shut the basement door behind her. She was not going to let her mom live this down.

After Robbie left, Y/n let out a sigh of relief and wiped her forehead. "That was close."

"Yeah," Fez said. "It's a good thing we're naturals!"

Y/n tightened her lips into a thin line and nodded. "We sure are. Let's not do this again with the kids sleep upstairs. We're out of practice with this."

The group agreed as they sat down for a while, watching tv as they waited for their highs to dissipate.

Around 3 am, everyone decided to head out and go to bed. As Y/n waved everyone off and bid goodnight to Donna and Eric, she turned, turning the tv off. She spun back around to get the light when she saw Kelso had stayed behind.

She jumped, startled. "Oh!" she squeaked and placed her hand over her heart. "You scared me."

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"What are you still doing here? I thought you left with everyone else?"

"No, I--uh--I wanted to talk to you."

"What's up?" she asked as she walked over to the couch and started fluffing the pillows and fixing the blankets. "Is everything okay? Are you and Robbie getting along fine?"

"Yeah!" he responded calmly, but excitedly. "She's amazing. She's a great kid."

Y/n smiled softly at him. "Thank you. I think so too."

"You did a good job," he said gently and shoved his hands in his pockets.

The corners of her mouth pricked up slightly, cheeks slightly warm now. "Thank you. I would hope so despite, well, everything."

He took a step towards her and nodded. "I think so."

"You have no idea how much that means to me," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I know I've said this a million times, but I am so sorry I kept her from you for so long. If I would've known what I know now...I would've never..."

"I know," he whispered and took another step towards her. "Listen, I wanted to ask you something."

He held her eyes in his and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. "Shoot."

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the courage to ask her. He waited so long, Y/n thought he was still high and forgot what he was going to answer. She breathed a beat before he finally forced the words out before he could pansy out.

"Did you ever have feelings for me?"

The question caused her to catch her breath in her throat. His eyes searched her face, itching for an answer.

"That's kind of hard to answer..." she said slowly.

"It's a simple yes or no question, Y/n."

She looked at him with a sad twinkle in her eye. "But it isn't."

He chuckled, not believing that he thought he could get an answer out of her. He shook his head. "Forget it. I don't know what I expected."

He turned to walk out the door before she stopped him. "I didn't," she blurted, causing him to halt in his tracks.

Turning back to her, she saw hurt in his eyes. He tightened his lips and took a deep breath. "I figured."

He didn't say another word as he gripped the door handle and swung the door open, but that's when she said it that caused him to completely freeze and sent his mind reeling.

"Not until that night."

After a few seconds passed, he backed up and shut the door behind him. It was like all of sudden, he couldn't find the words to speak, or even remember how to breathe.

Braving herself, she continued. "Not until I left at least. I didn't...I couldn't let myself fall for you because that would've made it so much harder. Being away from you like that, but that night was the greatest night of my life. And that's something you don't forget easily."

He felt like he had to push the air out of his lungs to respond. "Yeah...me too."

"Really?" she asked, a hopeful twinkle in her y/e/c eyes.

"Yeah," he breathed and swallowed his fear as walked up to her, closer than he had been the whole time she'd been there. He had to fight the strongest urge to wrap her up in his arms.

"If I'm being honest, I haven't had anyone else that made me feel as good as you did that night."

He gave her a crooked smile and cast his eyes down. "I haven't either."

She took another step towards him, fingertips caressing the couch. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked up to him through her eyelashes and heard him take in a shuddering breath as she stood inches from him. "Do you still have feelings for me?"

He shook his head in confusion and rubbed his eyes. "I've been asked that here recently and...I could've sworn I didn't. But now...I'm not so sure."

"Why?" she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Because how can I trust you not to leave me again?" he asked and pulled away from her slightly. "You put me through hell when you left. I can't trust you so easily."

"I don't expect you to," she responded, that twinkle fading.

"I don't think you get it. I spent years trying to get you out of my head, to stop loving you. And when I finally did, you came back crashing into my life like a wrecking ball."

Y/n didn't respond, but instead listened and digested his words. After a minute of silence from the both of them, she spoke up. "Did we just confess our feelings to each other?"

He stared at her for a moment. "Yeah. But it doesn't mean anything is going to happen. That anything can happen."

Her heart cracked on hearing that, but she knew why he was saying this.

"I'm going back to Chicago where I live...where Betsy's life is. Where her mother is. And you're going back to California, so there's no point in having feelings for each other."

She swallowed back tears; this hurt more to hear than she ever thought it would. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I want us to get along. For Robbie's sake, okay?" he said, the moment between them gone. "I'm going to be apart of her life from here on out. And as much as I want to be close to her everyday, I can't. I have my career, Betsy has her schooling, her mother is there with me...I can't just pack up my stuff and leave. Splitting from Betsy would be hard for her and for me, but if I take her with me, it's pulling her away from her Brooke."

Y/n nodded. "I understand."

"Yeah," he nodded and stepped away, heading towards the door. "It's late, I gotta get back to the motel. Betsy's probably waiting up for me. I'll see you later."

"See you later," she said, barley above a whisper.

She watched him leave and after hearing that door close, the silence was deafening and the room felt emptier than ever. With tears in her eyes, she turned off the light and slowly crept up the stairs to head to bed.

3 Days Before Christmas...

"Kitty, I don't want to have a party!" Red whined as he watched Kitty feverishly make food and treats for an upcoming Christmas party.

"Well, suck it up," she ordered as she pulled out some gingerbread cookies into the oven. "Y/n is finally home and I want everyone to see her and meet our long lost granddaughter." She froze and turned back to Red with misty eyes. "Our granddaughter, Red!"

"Kitty, we have another granddaughter, remember?"

"I know, but this is our Y/n's child."

"Who is also Kelso's..." Red pointed out and a realization dawned on him. "Oh, crap. That means that we're tied to that knuckle head for the rest of our lives now."

"Oh, Red it's not that bad," she replied and went back to work to splatting cookie dough on the baking sheet.

"Not that bad? Kelso has become apart of this family by impregnating our daughter!"

"Well, it happened and now we have another grandkid. What can you do?"

Red growled and turned back to the paper he was reading.

"Besides...Robbie is a sweet and smart girl. Y/n raised her right which means we raised Y/n right."

"Not right enough though," he said, lowering the paper. "If we raised her right, she would've come to us and told us she was pregnant. Not run off to California and have her never come home." He wasn't one to get emotional or even show his hurt, but Kitty could easily see through his façade and sat down next to him, grabbing his hand.

"I know," she said. "I'm really hurt by it too, but we can't change anything. The best we can do is repair what has been broken and develop a relationship with Robbie."

"Yeah...I guess you're right." He looked at her with sad eyes and a deep frown. "We missed so many years of that little girl's life. I wish we were there this whole time."

"I know, honey. Me too, but we have her here now and the best we can do is be there for her now."

"Yeah..." he said and leaned over, kissing her cheek. "I don't know about you, but I already love that smart mouthed kid."

Kitty smiled at her husband. "I do too. I don't know what I'd without her here now."

"What if...we gave her Laurie's old room so she can have a place to sleep if she visits?"

"I would love to visit," a voice popped up from behind them to reveal Robbie standing in the doorway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but...I'll come here as much as I can...and as much as you'll have me."

Kitty giggled and got up to meet Robbie. "You're more than welcome to come whenever you want." She wrapped her up in a hug which Robbie easily reciprocated.

Robbie nodded into her shoulder and pulled away. "You give the best hugs."

"The best ones are grandma's," Kitty giggled.

"Thank you for loving me," Robbie said quietly.

"Oh, honey of course!" Kitty said, feeling her heart break. "Why wouldn't we?"

Robbie shrugged. "I don't know...I never grew up with any family except Mom so I'm not used to someone else...I guess."

Both Red's and Kitty's hearts were completely torn in half.

"Oh, poor thing," Kitty cooed and kissed her temple. "Listen, what your mom did has nothing to do with you, okay? It was never about you. Even though I can see how you would look at it that way. If she would've come to us, we would've helped and been there for you. You were never a mistake."

"More like an unplanned blessing," Red added and walked over to his granddaughter. "And while you certainly weren't planned, you definitely are a blessing."

Robbie's eyes filled with tears as she was brought in for another hug. "Thank you...uh...Kitty?"

"Oh, please. Call me what I am. I'm your grandma."

"Can I call you meemaw?" Robbie asked in a small voice. "I've always wanted a meemaw."

"You can call me whatever you want," she soothed and kissed her head.

Robbie's brown eyes turned to Red. "And what gramps?"

Red smiled at her and soothed her hair. "I like that."

"I have a family," Robbie sniffed. "I can't believe it."

At the party...

"Hey, Kitty, when's this party going to end, yeah?" Red asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "It's getting late and these people have been here for hours."

"Red, it's only six and everyone's been here for half an hour," Kitty deadpanned as she filled her cup with spiked eggnog.

"Yeah, half hour too long!"

"Oh, quit being such a scrooge."

"If I were a scrooge, I'd be charging these people as they came through the door." His eyes widened at the realization and snapped his fingers. "I should charge them! Hang on, Kitty. Let me go get my wallet."

"Freeze!" she called out. "You will not charge our guests. Have a drink, eat some food. Mingle a little--you'll feel better."

He gave her a deadpanned look and raised his eyebrow. "We've been married for 42 years and you still think that advice will work?"

"No, of course not," Kitty said, taking a sip of her eggnog. "I'm on autopilot at this point. Just...go to bed or something if you're that miserable being here." She walked off to rejoin the party.

Red groaned, running a hand down his face before plastering on a fake grin and turned back to the lively conversation happening behind him.

"Y/n!" an older woman with dark curly hair and a New Jersey accent called after her. "Oh, my God, it's been so long! Come here and give me some sugar!" She grabbed Y/n's shoulder and brought her face in, kissing both cheeks. "How are you, Gorgeous? I heard you have a daughter and living large in the big city of San Diego!"

"Hi Aunt Jean," Y/n responded with a smile, turning away a conversation she was having with old family friends. "I wouldn't say living large, but yes I do in live San Diego with my seventeen year old daughter. How are you?"

"Oh, you know, working like a slave and dealing with my divorce."

"You're married?!"

"You didn't know I was married?" Jean asked and leaned in, chuckling lightly. "Let me tell you a secret--me neither."

"What?" Y/n asked, cracking a smile. Oh, how she missed Jean.

"I know!" she cried out, laughing at herself. "I went to Vegas and woke up the next morning with a ring on my finger and a very hot, but strange man sleeping next to me."

"I can't believe it!"

"Neither could I! Let me tell you about it: You end up totally falling in the love with the man, you're year and half into the marriage and all of a sudden he tells you he's gay. Ah! Can you believe it?"

"Oh, my God!" Y/n laughed, holding her red solo cup in one hand while her other laid against her chest. "Still the same ol' crazy, spontaneous Jean."

Jean laughed and placed a perfectly manicured on her arm. "The stories we could tell! But I'd say, having a daughter and running away to California is pretty spontaneous."

"Eh, I wouldn't call it that," she replied, taking a sip of her drink.

"Honey, listen to me," Jean said, leaning in. "I've made countless mistakes in my 48 years of life, alright? Some were small and some were huge that impacted my life for a little while. No matter how bad my mistakes were, not one person of my friends and family stopped loving me."

"Yeah, but you never hid a child from anyone," she said lowly, looking into her cup. "That's a mistake I myself or anyone will be able to get over."

"Except I did."

Y/n looked at this woman with bewildered eyes. This woman who she loved and knew her whole life, her mom's best friend, her non biological aunt--her favorite one at all--did the same thing she did. "You...what?"

Jean shook her head, her long earrings clinking as they did and sighed. "I was sixteen...I was scared. I ran away with the baby daddy and lived in and out of hotels and friend's couches for a little while. It was finally when I was living on the streets, eight months pregnant that I finally faced my fears and went to my parents. Sure, they weren't happy...like at all, but eventually they came around and stuck by me. The father of my kid was...well...he wasn't the greatest. He was a lazy, good for nothing bum. He didn't care about me or his own son. Only about himself."

"Wow, Aunt Jean...I didn't know you had a son. How come I never met him?"

The look in her eyes dulled a little bit, saddening her pretty face. "Because I gave him up for adoption right after he was born."

Y/n mirrored her expression, lips parted. "Aunt Jean, I'm so sorry. I didn't know." She wrapped an around Jean's shoulder and pulled her in. "Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"For the same reasons you did," she responded and patted her niece's hand. "I was scared no one would look at me the same and that I would be disowned."

The corner of Y/n's mouth shifted up slightly. "Yeah. I just didn't want to damage any relationships."

"Oh, sweetheart, they would've changed, but not damaged. The ones who truly loved you, would've stuck around regardless. I know your mom and dad would've."

"Yeah...I know that now. Definitely would've stirred up a lot of trouble though."

"Of course! You're eighteen years old, pregnant with one of your best friend's baby who you slept with after being dumped by one of your other best friends!"

"You know about that?"

"Oh, honey everybody knows," she responded casually. "But let me tell you something, I have not heard one person say anything negative about you."

"How?"

"Because we've all made mistakes that we can never take back. Instead, we learned from them and moved on. And these are the people that truly love you and only want the best for you. Sure, they maybe pissed off at you and not want to talk to you until they cool off, but they'll always come back because--"

"Because they love me," Y/n finished and gave Jean one more tight hug. "Thank you, Aunt Jean."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she responded, kissing her cheek. "And who couldn't love you? You're a wonderful girl! Oop, I'm sorry. I mean woman." She pulled away and flipped her luscious hair back. "Now, where is my beautiful grand niece? I want to meet her."

"I think she's with her cousins and sister or father."

Jean's eyes flicked behind Y/n's shoulder before returning her gaze back to Y/n. "She must be with the others then."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because the father is right over there, staring straight at you."

Y/n looked over shoulder to see Kelso, in fact, staring right at her by the front door.

"Ooh, he's gorgeous," Jean oohed. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

She walked away with a glint in her eye as she went to join Kitty and Red in the kitchen.

Y/n set her drink down and walked over to Kelso, slowly, but surely, fidgeting with her sweater sleeves. "Hey."

"Hey," he responded shyly. "Nice party you all got going here."

"Thank you," she said. "You know how my mom is. She knows how to definitely throw a party."

"Yeah," he chucked and suddenly his demeanor changed. "Listen, about the other night..."

"It's okay," she replied. "I understand. What you said was true."

"But that's the thing, it wasn't." He set his drink down on the bannister behind her. "Look, you coming back here was really unexpected and you completely took me by surprise by showing up. Then you tell me that I have a daughter after seventeen years and...you know, you'd have to come up with a whole new word for what I was feeling."

"Rage? Betrayal? Completely dumbfounded?"

"Yeah, some of those things, yes. But, listen, Y/n I thought I meant what I said to you, but...it's not the same now."

She knit her eyebrows together as her heart sped up. "What does that mean?"

"What I mean is--"

"Hey!" someone called out--revealing to be Bob, pointing towards Y/n and Kelso. "We got someone under the mistletoe!"

Y/n and Kelso looked up and saw that in fact, they were standing underneath a mistletoe.

"You know what that means!" he continued and started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"Oh, no, we're not--" Y/n started, eyes darting between the party guests and an awkward Kelso.

"Yeah, we're not--" he began, but was cut off by Bob.

"C'mon, it's tradition!"

"C'mon, sweetheart, pucker up and lay one on him!" Jean called out from the den.

Y/n turned to Michael, both of their cheeks red.

"Just a quick one," she said out of the corner of her mouth.

He took a deep breath and took a step closer to her. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, giving her a quick peck. He pulled away, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, come on! What was that?!" Jean cried out. "Give her a real kiss!"

Y/n shot her a look before turning back to Kelso. "Just...just do it."

He leaned in again as Y/n took a deep breath, trying to slow down her racing heart, but the moment their lips touched, she felt it jump into her throat. He gently pried open her lips with his as he slowly moved them with his. Her mouth suddenly ran dry, hoping to God that it wouldn't ruin the kiss.

With minds fuzzy and tingling fingertips, they reached for each other unknowingly. While his hands landed on her hips, hers barley grazed the skin of his arms, creating goosebumps up and down on his skin.

While everyone whooped and hollered, Eric and the rest of the gang stood there with different feelings expressions on their faces. Eric stood there with a disgusted look, Donna smirked, Jackie and Hyde watched with their jaws dropped, and Fez stood there smiling from ear to ear.

"Sexy," he said. The group looked at him, wearing the same looks they were just wearing a minute ago. He shrugged. "What?"

"Ooohhhh!" Leia and Luke called out from the crowd. Robbie and Betsy sat next to them and stared at them wide eyed and jaw dropped, not knowing what to feel.

"Okay!" Eric called out. "That's enough. We get it."

The duo pulled apart, lips swollen and pupils blown wide. Their eyes wouldn't leave the other, like some magnetic pull.

They didn't say anything to each other as they walked in opposite directions, away from each other. So many emotions were running through them at the same time they started to feel overwhelmed.

Y/n rushed over to Donna who was still smirking and Jackie who now stood their awkwardly.

"Yeah?" Donna said. "Told ya."

Y/n let out a sigh and stared at Donna. "I am so screwed."

Christmas Eve...

Kelso and Y/n hadn't talked directly since the kiss at the party. In fact, they avoided each other like the plague. Robbie tried to talk to both parents about it, but all she got were turn arounds and then quickly changed subjects. Whenever the group would do something together with the kids, such as shopping, dinners, ice skating, and light seeing, they stayed the farthest apart from each other.

"So, how are you liking Wisconsin?" Betsy asked Robbie as they sat out on the outside bleachers, taking a break as they watched everyone else skate.

"I'm actually loving it," she responded and cupped her hot cocoa tighter with her chilled fingers. "It beats California."

Betsy's eyebrows furrowed. "Why? You have it all there. Hollywood, celebrities, beaches, amazing Mexican food...you seriously like it here better than over there?"

Robbie turned to her with a soft smile. "I have more family here then there. It was just me, my mom, and my aunt Stacy who doesn't even live there anymore. It's lonely. Here, not so much."

"I guess I can get that," Betsy replied and took a sip of her mocha.

"Can you? I mean, you live with both parents and have lots of friends. And from what I heard, you're an honor student who made the dean's list and the president of the debate team, and captain of the cheer squad over there in Chicago. While over in Cali, I'm nobody and a loser."

"You're not a loser, Robbie."

"I just got kicked out of school for the second time."

"I wouldn't say that's good, but you're still not a nobody," Betsy replied.

"I'm not here," Robbie responded as she watched Luke fall on his butt while Leia laughed. "Here, I'm somebody."

"You're everything here," Betsy responded with a smile. "You're a daughter, granddaughter, niece...sister." She nudged her in the arm. "If I'm being honest with you, Chicago isn't so great either."

Robbie had taken a sip of her cocoa and looked at her right as she took a sip. "What do you mean?"

"My parents are split up, I have to shuffle between two different houses every week because of it. I have split holidays and then I worry about the other parent when I'm not with them because they're alone and even though they're broken up, they still fight. All. The. Time. Mainly about me and how to raise me. It's a broken record and it's exhausting.

"The only friends I have are a bunch of cheerleading, pom pom waving bitches and they aren't above stealing the only boyfriend you've ever had. Stupid, Janet." She shook her head in anger and then turned back to Robbie. "And then on top of that, my mom and I don't even get along. She has these incredibly strict and stupid rules. Like, I have to be in bed by 9pm, even on the weekends, I had to get a part time job so that leaves me only to work and study. Can't have anything sweet and only healthy food.

"She mainly gets pissed at me because I'm closer to Dad than her. Dad is more reasonable. I can stay up late on weekends, watch tv, go to the movies, have ice cream after dinner if I want. He doesn't put a tight leash on me like she does. I don't go out late and I don't get into any trouble. I've said that I want to move in with him full time, but she won't have it and it causes world war 3 every time.

"So, I throw myself into school and my activities so I can stay away from her as much as possible so that I can get into a good college and get the hell away from there."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Robbie said quietly, staring into her cup.

"It gets lonely. That's why I was so happy hear that I have a sister," Betsy said, chuckling. "I finally have someone I can bitch about them to."

Robbie laughed. "Dude, same here." She took another sip and debated asking the burning question. "If you don't mind me asking, why'd they break up?"

Betsy shook her head. "It's a mess, but the main point is my mom always felt like Dad was in love with someone else that wasn't her. But after seeing your mom with him...I'm starting to see she was right."

Robbie looked ahead to see Y/n skating almost flawlessly while Kelso stumbled a bit. Y/n looked over her shoulder to see Kelso having a hard time and reached her hand out wordlessly. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing it and allowing her to guide him around.

"Sorry to hear that," she said finally, taking a sip of her drink.

Betsy shook her head, jutting out her lower lip. "Don't worry about it. It's not like they were in ever in love anyway. My mom is just a hypocritical bitch. She never wanted Dad to be apart of my life."

"That's messed up."

"Well, she didn't think he could handle being a father. I'm glad he didn't take no for answer. He's my best friend."

The corners of Robbie's mouth twitched up, hoping that one day she'll be able to call him that. "Yeah, that must be nice."

"Do you think your mom and our dad still have feelings for each other?" Betsy asked.

Robbie snorted. "A blind from ten miles away can see."

"I like your mom," she responded. "What she did was awful, and quite frankly a little weird, but I like her. She really loves you."

Robbie nodded. "That she does."

"We need to get them together."

Robbie snapped her attention to her sister. "What?"

"We need to get them together. It's so obvious how much they want each other. And honestly, I think they would go well together."

"Well, how are we supposed to do that? I've tried talking to them and they avoid the subject completely."

Betsy smirked, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "I got a plan."

--Time Skip--

"Hey, Dad, can I spend the night here with Robbie?" Betsy asked.

Everyone had come home to the Forman's to watch Christmas movies in the VCR and drink some hot cocoa.

Kelso shrugged. "It's okay with me if it's okay with Mr. and Mrs. Forman."

Betsy turned to look at them who nodded.

"Sure, sweetie," Kitty answered. "Just as long as you two don't stay up too late."

"We promise!" the two girls said excitedly and exchanged glances.

Some time during the peaceful evening, the younger kids had fallen asleep to How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Kelso, Jackie, Hyde, and Fez were ready to head back to their motel rooms to retire for the night. Red, Kitty, Donna, Eric, and Y/n all stayed up a little later to put surprise presents under the tree.

As Kelso walked out the door, Robbie and Betsy nodded to each other and split up.

"Hey, uhm...Michael? Dad? Wait!" Robbie called after Kelso, following him out the door.

"Hey, Y/n," Betsy called after her.

Robbie shut the door behind them, making sure their conversation couldn't be heard.

"You know, um, y--you don't have to call me by my name. You can call me Dad if you want...or if you're comfortable calling me Michael. Either one is fine with me."

Robbie grinned and nodded. "Both sound weird, but...I guess Dad isn't as bad. So...Dad it is."

He smiled at her shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "So, what's up?"

"Since you guys are being super weird with each other, Mom wanted me to pass on a message to you."

His eyebrows shot up in a surprise. "What?"

"She said that she wanted to talk to you about something and wanted to meet you at your motel room later tonight."

He scrunched his face in confusion. "Why?"

"I don't know I'm just the messenger," she replied, shrugging.

"Okay, well, um...have her meet me in about an hour."

Robbie nodded and turned away, smiling. "Bye...Dad."

Kelso smiled warmly at her before turning back to get in his car. Robbie went inside, smiling herself, feeling her heart warming.

"He wants to meet up at his motel? Why?"

"I don't know, I'm just the messenger," Betsy responded, repeating Robbie's words. "He just wants to meet you in..." she looked over Y/n's shoulder to see Robbie holding up 1 finger and mouthing a word. "One hour. He wants you to meet him there in an hour."

Y/n checked her watch. "It's already getting late...okay, fine. Where is his motel anyway?"

"It's about twenty minutes north of here," Betsy responded. "It's the Motel 6 room 8."

"Oh, okay I know where that is," she responded and turned to Robbie. "I'll be home as soon as I can." She kissed her head and went upstairs to grab her snow boots and coat.

Robbie and Betsy looked at each other with hopeful glances and devilish smirks.

An hour passed and Y/n found herself standing in front of Kelso's door, the golden 8 flashing back at her. After a minute of working up the courage, she raised a shaky fist and knock on the door gently. Padded footsteps approached the door and soon it swung open, revealing a shirtless Kelso.

It took her a minute to respond after she admired his new physique. Drinking in his abs and cut v-line--he definitely didn't look like this the last she saw him shirtless. "Uh--h--hey."

He chuckled and stepped aside. "Hey, come on in."

She stepped inside wordlessly as he shut the door behind her.

"Um, let me--let me get a shirt on real quick," he stammered and walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a white t-shirt.

"You don't have to," she replied quietly and shrugged off her coat.

"No, I probably should. Don't want this to be uncomfortable." He tugged on his shirt and turned back to her. "Alright, so what did you want to talk to me about?"

She looked at him with furrowed brows. "Wh--I thought you needed to talk to me?"

"No? Robbie said you needed to talk to me."

"Why would Betsy say that--?" A realization dawned on her. "Those little..." She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

The same realization hit him. "They didn't."

"They did," Y/n said as silence took over them. She looked down at her shoes, shifting from side to side before looking up at him. "Well...I'm sorry that our kids put us together alone for whatever reason. I'll just, uh, I'll just go." She grabbed for her jacket and keys. "I'm sorry. Uh...I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas."

As she hurriedly made her way to the door, Michael stopped her. "Wait...we should talk."

She held firm onto the doorknob, but didn't twist it and looked over her shoulder. "That's really not necessary. We said everything we needed to say."

"Not everything."

Y/n sighed and shut the door before turning to look at him. "Like what? You said it yourself, I'm leaving and you're leaving. It's pointless to feel anything for each other."

"I know what I said," he replied. "But, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss. I don't know about you but I felt something. Something I haven't felt in a very long time."

She nodded, folding her arms and looked at the carpeted floor. "Me too. I've never felt anything like that. Ever." She found the courage to look at him.

"And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to do it again."

"Yeah? And then what? You leave and I only see you, like what--once every few years?"

"That's rich coming from you," he said bitterly.

Irritation bubbled up inside her. "Look, I know what I did. I don't need it thrown in my face every five minutes!"

"You may get what you did, but how can I trust you that you're not going to do it again?"

"Because I'm not! Besides that when have I ever lied to you?"

"That's a pretty damn big lie to not just trust you again, Y/n."

"Oh, my God, Michael! We've been having the same conversation over and over again since I've been here. It's like a broken record and I'm starting to question if you've truly forgiven me or not."

"That's the problem with you, I didn't say that I did. Everybody else may have, but I haven't."

A beat passed before she spoke up again. "Then what am I doing here?" A frown etched onto her beautiful face. An expression he hated seeing her do, and even worse to know that he caused it. But he still couldn't help the way he felt. "To have you yell at me again? Didn't you get your point across the first time?"

"No, that wasn't my intention," he replied. "But every time I see you, I can't help but still feel so mad at you." His voice started to croak with emotion. "It's not like you hid money from me or anything. You hid a whole human being from me. One that is my flesh and blood. How can I trust and forgive that so easily?"

"I didn't expect you to," she whispered. "I didn't expect any of you to forgive me or trust me again. In fact, I didn't do this for me. I did it for her. I know what I did can't be forgotten. If I could go back in time I would, but not because of me, but because of everybody else."

He looked at her with hurt in his eyes before shaking his head. "It's not just that."

"Then what it is it? Please tell me so I can fix it! Or at least try to!"

"Because every time I look at you, I get so mad at myself too. Because I am still so madly in love with you, but I don't want to be. You broke me! And I thought you leaving was the thing I needed to move on, but it wasn't. I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried."

His confession made her mouth run dry and her heart speed up. When she was finally able to find the words to speak, her voice came out gravelly. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Or reach out to me?"

"Because there was always something in the way. Hyde, school...you leaving. I knew you never felt the same way or even looked at me that way. I was just another friend to you. And you know what? I didn't reach out to you because you never even bothered to reach out to me. It's a two way street and I was not going to put myself out there and be made to look like some pathetic puppy in love."

"Maybe the reason why I didn't return any of those feelings was because of how you were in high school! Going from girl to girl, sleeping around, constantly cheating on Jackie...how could I trust to not do the same to me?"

"But yet, Hyde still cheated on you with Jackie."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that he'd do that? He never did that with anybody else before me so I thought I could trust him, but I was still proven wrong. I was the idiot for even getting mixed up with someone in our group. And yet, I still did and then I did it again! And I ended up pregnant.

"I thought that I was just another fling to you and that you wouldn't care about our baby. And I was so scared that you would turn your back on me and everybody else. So I figured I'd save myself the pain and do it first. But I ended up hurting more than myself...and I will never forgive myself for what I did." Tears were running down her face that she didn't even notice had fallen. "I broke my baby's heart in more ways than anybody else could. I'm the reason why she acted out and got in trouble."

Kelso couldn't respond, but instead watch her crumble before him, cracking his own heart.

"So, if you think that I need to be punished more than I am already doing to myself, fine. I know how you feel and that's enough for me. If you need to, only communicate with me about Robbie and keep your distance from me. It's already hard to hear it from my own family, but to hear it from the man I love just makes it worse. So, please, do what I did and run back to Chicago and never speak to me again. Unless it's about Robbie."

She turned to walk out again, but he stopped her. "What did you just say?"

She slowly turned back to him, sniffling. "The man I love. So completely and madly in love with you. But you don't want anything to do with me and I get it. Let's just go our separate ways after New Years and move on. It's for the best."

"Move on? How the hell am I supposed to do that after a confession like that?" He cried out. "I mean, damn Y/n, I knew you had feelings for me, but love? You can't just drop a bomb like that after seventeen years of not being around!"

She growled, feeling frustrated. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that I don't want to go back to California and that I want to stay? After being back and seeing everybody...seeing you, I realized how much I missed everybody and everything. I was living a lie for seventeen years, telling myself that I didn't miss home, that everybody was okay without me...that I didn't love you. But you know what? Coming back here...it hit me like a ton of bricks how wrong I was. And the worst part of all of that? I want to be with you. All day, everyday. And it kills me to know that I'll never get that because of what I did."

He scowled at her. "That's great that you want to be back, but to want to be with me? I thought you didn't like me because of who I was."

"Was. You're not that guy anymore. I see that, everybody sees that. Seeing you now...I fell harder for you than I thought I ever could. Then that kiss...God, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. And I want to do it again and again for the rest of my life."

His eyes softened. "The worst part is that I feel the same way too."

"You do?" she croaked.

"Yeah...I do, but I still can't trust you. I can't trust that you won't run away again." He felt the familiar burn behind his eyes as he blinked it away.

"But that's the thing. I don't want to run anymore. I'm tired and it's lonely." Her voice broke as she continued. "I'm not asking you to trust me right away, but if you'll have me, I ask you to at least try while I work on building your trust again. I promise to never leave again, I really promise this time. I just want to be with you."

"Where's all this coming from?" he asked her. "Not even a week ago would you ever say this."

"I'm tired of denying it. And I'd rather have you know how I feel, then for you to never know at all and continue to feel the way you have been feeling for twenty years."

Tears welled in his eyes and he turned away from her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed them down, not daring to cry in front of her, but after hearing all that, he couldn't stop the overwhelming emotions. "I can't believe you're saying all this now, knowing I have to go back to Chicago."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"No, you don't know," he said. "It was already hard enough for me to go back, but having you say all this...you're making it damn near impossible to leave."

"I don't want you to leave," she whispered and took a step toward him. "I'll follow you to Chicago, I'll follow to Timbuktu if that's what it takes! I just want to be with you."

For the first time, he couldn't respond. He didn't know what to say as he stared at the woman he's always loved, listening to all of this. She took his breath away and for the first time in seventeen years, he could feel the smallest pieces of his broken heart start to shift and gravitate towards each other.

"Say something," she begged and walked towards him, but he stopped her.

"Wait," he said. "Just do you know, if you come any closer, I am not letting you go again."

She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and ran into his arms, crashing her lips against his. She cupped his face desperately as he brought his arms around her, tightly clinging her against him as if she was going to disappear again.

She deepened the kiss by entwining their tongues together, tasting him. The familiar taste and smell of him brought her back to being eighteen again.

"I missed you," he breathed. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you," she whispered back, voice cracking. She kissed him again before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a much needed embrace. The familiar cologne filled her nostrils as she held on tight to him.

As they pulled away, he held her face between his hands and chased after one more kiss, delicate and soft. "I love you."

"I love you. I love you so much," she said back and wrapped her hands around his neck, pressing her forehead to his.

"What are we going to do?" he chuckled and pulled back to look into her beautiful eyes. Eyes that he never thought he'd see again. "About our living situation I mean."

"Anywhere that's away from California," she responded. "I can't go back there."

He brushed back a piece of hair and smoothed it down. "We'll figure it out tomorrow, but I have something else in mind."

A certain glint in his eye told her exactly what he had in mind. Spinning her around, he pressed her slammed her against the wall and kissed her roughly. She reciprocated the kiss as she kicked off her boots and wrapped her legs around him.

He trailed his hand up towards her torso before reaching her throat and squeezed. She looked at him wide eyed and he smirked. "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?"

She growled as she ripped his shirt off as he threw her on the bed. He made her feel so good that night that it felt like the earth itself was imploding. They had a lot of time to make up for and this was just the beginning.

I think I'm going to do an epilogue. What do ya'll think? I thought about adding this in here, but I like how this ended. I hope you liked it! And watch out for the epilogue. ;) I can't wait to show it to you all. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

#that 70's show imagine #that 70's show fanfic #that 70's show icons #fez that 70s show #that 70s show #michael kelso x reader #michael kelso #fanfic

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afictionalwhore · 3 years

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Room for Two

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❀ AN: this is a gift for @lorlocks as a thank you for all her wonderful and beautiful art. Pls go check her out. She is amazing OTL

❀ TW: Shig being fluffy?

❀ WC: 2.6k

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It was in college that you met Shigaraki and the rest of the League. After a rough week of classes you wandered into the bar operated by the League. In your drunken state, you had confided your college girl woes to Kurogiri, who handed information about your quirk to Shigaraki. Later in the week, you found the leader of the League, along with Dabi, sitting on your worn couch. The two had planned to kidnap you, but after just a few minutes of talking, they were pleasantly surprised to find that you were more than willing to just go along with them.

Due to your quiet demeanor, you weren’t usually picked to go out on missions with the others, but your beloved leader deemed it dangerous enough to make use of your quirk. You didn’t have a dangerous quirk like Toga or Shig. It was the opposite. You could project a force field and protect those surrounding you from both physical attacks and objects and quirks like Aizawa and Shinsou’s. Your quirk, shield, was perfect for hero work. You were even recommended to UA in the sidekick program. But your social skills failed and you graduated without a job lined up and without friends.

This is how you ended up with Shig. You were scheduled to go on a small breakin mission the next morning with Shig as a test of your quirk before his planned attack on your alma mater. He wanted to make sure you could protect him in case anything went wrong.

You traveled far outside the usual vicinity of league activities so as not to arouse suspicion. Hours into your journey, as the sun began to set, your tire blew.

“Fucking dammit,” Shig said as he kicked the blown tire after you pointed out the screw lodged in it. Luckily, you had learned a few mechanics from your father. The man insisted you knew how to change a tire lest you fall helpless to a gang of villains on the side of the road. You shook your head, knowing his disapproval if he saw your current company now.

Shigaraki’s pacing and grumbling behind you made you more nervous than you’d have liked. You coughed while working, hoping to gain his attention. The lanky man continued his ways, wearing a hole in the dirt behind you. You coughed again, this time catching his attention.

“What’s the matter?” he scratched.

“Nothing, just. It’s getting late, and I think we should find a place for the night.”

“And? So?”

“Well, uh,” you stuttered. “There's a motel not far down the road. We passed it not long ago. Umm. Why don’t you get us a couple rooms for the night?”

The heavy padding of Shigaraki’s footsteps stopped behind you. You felt his staring on your back, and panicked for a moment. You tracked back through what you could have said to have upset him. Suggesting he walk alone back to a shady motel in the middle of nowhere could definitely have done it.

“You’re right,” you heard his rough, scratchy voice and felt yourself visibly relax.

“My, um,” you stumbled through your words, not expecting to get this far. “My wallet is in the console. You can get my card out and—”

“Tsch,” Shigaraki cut you off, “Are you stupid or something? Use your card with your name? They’ll trace back to you and expose us. It’s fine. I have cash.” A dry hand reached up to scratch at his neck.

There was the Shig you knew and loved. But he had a good point. You blushed as you bent back down to continue your work.

You relaxed as you heard Shigaraki’s footsteps recede. You were finally able to focus on the task at hand. You thought about your situation as you removed the hubcap. You had gone with Shigaraki and Dabi first to find meaning in your lonely life. The more time you spent with the league, you began to find your place in the world.

You never really had a place to fit in, and maybe that’s why you felt that you finally did fit in with the League of Villains. All of you, in some way, shape, or form, were outcasts of society and held a distaste for hero society. Even in the place you felt you fit best, you were still deemed an oddball. Shy and always blushing, you never really had much to say, opting to go along with what the others wanted.

It was safe to say that now you were in love with your boss. It was true that you initially went with the villainous pair back to the hideout because you wanted something more to your life, but you couldn’t deny your initial attraction to the pale, blue-haired man. He intrigued you, to say the least. But as you learned more about what exactly it was that made him tick, you found yourself falling for the man. You prayed your blush would go unnoticed every time his crimson eyes met yours.

Before you knew it, you had successfully replaced the flat tire with the spare. You made your way back toward the motel, slowly so as not to upset the spare you knew wouldn’t make it over forty. You slowly rolled the car into the decrepit parking lot, careful not to hit too many of the potholes littering the asphalt.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you heard the old receptionist say as you walked in through dusty glass doors. The jingle of a bell caused her to look up at you and away from Shigaraki. She glanced back towards the chatter of voices from the TV behind her, clearly more concerned about the soap opera in the background that she was missing due to her argument with your boss. “We only have the one room.”

Shigaraki turned to see you had made it, a hand pausing its scratching on the back of his neck. Behind you past the dirty glass doors sat your car in the lot. For a moment you thought you saw a flicker of relief in his bright red eyes. Your heart jumped at the thought of him thinking of you. You shoved the fluttering feeling back down and told yourself he was only relieved at your presence as a way to end his argument with the frumpy receptionist.

“Fine,” he sighed as he snatched the plastic key card from the woman. “We’ll take it. Save some money I guess.”

After stumbling awkwardly through the halls, you had finally found your room. It took three tries with the key card before you were actually in your room. It was everything you expected to be, judging from the looks of the exterior of the motel.

Yellowing, floral wallpaper that was as old as your grandparents decorated the room. The ceiling boasted a popcorn texture that you were sure contained enough asbestos to send the entirety of the League to the hospital. The carpet was a cream color, dingy with age and rough on your feet. There was a small ensuite, which you were thankful for, from which you could hear the gentle dripping off the shower. Against one wall was a TV that had to have been from the late 90s, high technology of its time now bought at a discount rate to furnish a sketchy motel. Perhaps the worst part of the setup was right across from the TV: a single bed in the middle of the room.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Maybe there’s a pull-out? I’ve seen something like it on American TV,” you suggested, trying to alleviate the awkwardness that settled into the room.

“Don’t be stupid,” Shigaraki said. He walked towards the bed before flopping on top, shoes still on. The headboard was placed against a long wall, and the floral bedding looked as scratchy as your partner sounded. He dug through the bedside table, searching for a remote to the television.

You took your shoes off by the door before slipping your stockinged feet into the complementary slippers. They were once a soft yet vibrant pink, but now they boasted a dirty, pale gray with a hint of their former pink glory. You padded your way to the bed and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed as Shigaraki occupied the majority of the space on the bed. He looked bored, irritated even as he lazily searched the TV. After a few seconds, which felt like eternity to you, you stood and walked over to the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said, standing in front of the en suite while Shigaraki flipped through the few channels on the cable television. You stood for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged by the man.

“Well?” he said, eyes still glued to the faint blue glow of the screen. “Why are you just standing there? Go take a shower.”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to go first or needed anything before I start,” you said, before turning to the bathroom and gently closing the door behind you.

You slipped on the rubber shower slippers, praying you wouldn’t get athlete’s foot or worse. On the near end of the bathroom, old towels rested on a shelf above the toilet. Across was the shower. After a moment of fiddling with the knobs, you managed to turn on the shower. The pressure was better than you had expected, and you thanked the heavens that you didn’t have to wait long for the hot spray. A hot shower was just what you needed to wash away your anxieties.

When you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and slipped back into the sad pink slippers. Shigaraki was on the bed with a pizza.

“Figured you’d get hungry,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and helping himself to another slice.

You sat back down on the bed, staying in the corner you previously occupied before your shower.

“Thank you,” you said. You were thankful for the dull orangey lighting that hid your blush from Shigaraki’s scrutinizing red gaze.

The two of you ate in silence, watching whatever American drama Shigaraki had found. After a few hours, your exhaustion had caught up with you. Your yawning hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shigaraki.

“We should go to sleep now.” Shigaraki swung his lanky body off the bed to go turn off the lights.

“I could sleep on the floor, if you want,” you offered.

“No, it’s fine,” Shigaraki huffed. He clambered back onto the bed and refused to look at you as he pulled the blankets over him. “Just stay on your side.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Goodnight, Shigaraki.”

“Goodnight,” came the rough reply you weren’t expecting.

Despite your heart pounding in your chest, loud enough that you swore Shigaraki could hear it as well, you drifted off with a smile on your face.

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Shigaraki never had a normal sleeping schedule. He was used to waking up at odd hours in the early morning while everyone else was asleep.

With a slight groan, Shigaraki stretched and turned to look at the cheap alarm clock on the bedside table on the other side of you. Electric red numbers stared back at his crimson eyes, reading 2:31. He looked at your dozing frame beside him, curled into the corner of the single bed in order to give him space. Slowly, so as not to disturb you, he slipped out of the bed. He was thankful for the rough carpet and not cold hard flooring as he padded his way to the cramped bathroom.

“Shit,” he whispered as he flicked on the lights. The buzzing of the fan echoed throughout the motel room. Shigaraki glanced over to your sleeping form to make sure he hadn’t disrupted you. Everything always seems too loud at two in the morning. But since you were asleep and he was trying to be quiet, everything felt truly too loud: the soft hum of the fluorescent bathroom lights, the irritating fan, the flushing of the toilet, the padding of his feet back across the dirty carpet, and the creak of the bed as he crawled back in beside you.

Shigaraki lay awake for some time, studying patterns in the horrendous popcorn ceiling like a child looking for shapes in the clouds. You lay fast asleep beside him. As Shigaraki listened to your gentle sleeping, he thought about what you meant to him. You had a valuable quirk for sure, and he was thankful for Kurogiri tipping him off about you. The truth was that he already knew of you. His eyes had been locked on you since the moment you walked into the bar, and when you went with him so willingly that fateful day, he thought he would melt on the spot.

Of course, Shigaraki had an image to uphold. He would die before admitting he had feelings for you. When you mentioned getting a motel, he couldn’t believe his luck. When there was only one room left, he thought he had to be in a dream. His fumbling with the key card was from his nervousness about sharing a room with you. He felt like a teenage boy trying and failing to impress you. His heart nearly leapt out of his throat when he saw the single bed in the motel room. When you stepped out of the bathroom wringing your hair out in a towel, head cocked adorably to the side, he thought he really had died earlier and gone to heaven, despite his actions on earth.

Shigaraki was terrified that you wouldn’t return his feelings. He was repulsive in his eyes. Who would want him with his scratchy voice, too high for a man in his opinion? His shaggy pale hair, rampant with dandruff? And his dry, flaking skin, that every lotion on earth never seemed to help? Looks aside, Shigaraki couldn’t take you out on dates. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. He couldn’t even hold your hand without risking your life. Shigaraki groaned as he dropped his face in his hands. Dabi would surely laugh at him if he could see him now.

A slight shaking of the bed broke him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at you as you continued to shiver. Shigaraki felt his heart swell as he took in your sleeping form. You were too good for him, having curled yourself onto the far side of the bed to give him enough room. You pushed the blankets off of yourself to keep him comfortable and warm.

Before he realized what he was doing, Shigaraki scooted himself closer to you. He pulled the blanket across him to cover your shivering form. It wasn’t until he had seen you relax that he was able to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

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The sun peeking through the gap in the curtains woke you up. The clock in front of you said it was only just past 7 A.M.

You hummed and tried to turn on your back, hoping to stretch your limbs, but something solid kept you from moving. You slowly opened your eyes, as though what you were hoping for would disappear if you opened them too quickly. It seemed too good to be true.

Curled into your back was the very object of your affections. His face was burrowed into his hair, and an arm was wrapped carefully around your waist. Even in sleep, he was careful not to touch you with all five fingers, instead curling his hand into a fist and tucking it underneath your bodies.

Gingerly, you tried to shift to relax your tensed muscles without disturbing Shigaraki.

“Stay,” you heard who was undeniably the man you were trying not to wake whisper. He nuzzled deeper into your hair and pressed his arm tighter against you.

“Okay,” you breathed, and relaxed against Shigaraki, a soft smile crossing your face, and fell back into a sweet sleep.

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#bnha shigaraki #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki x reader #a gift for you #i hope it’s ok #my beautiful humble queen #OTL

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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

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Pomegranate Chapstick - Peter Parker

It’s Winter in New York City. Not that movie magic kind of Winter that reeks of mistletoe and Hallmark channel cliches. No, it’s no longer the Holiday Season and everyone is back to school after Winter Break. Peter Parker is happy to be back because being back means being able to see you again. Though, something is different about you but he just can’t place it.

“What is it?”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” Ned looked in the same direction as Peter, who, suddenly self conscious, turned his friend back around to face him. “What is it?”

“Don’t, don’t look! I just…” Peter found that his eyes trailed back over to where you talking with MJ. Your eyes were bright, hands gesturing about you as your friend shared you into a passion. Despite your movements, Peter found himself drawn back to your smile.

“Something’s different,” he finished, “but I don’t know what.”

“It’s only been like two weeks. It was Christmas literally a few days ago.” Peter glanced warily at Ned before he looked back to you. You were still smiling. The sight made his chest tighten, stole his breath directly from his lungs. “Pete?”

“You remember Homecoming,” Peter pointed out as he met Ned’s eyes, “that all happened in a week and I almost died. Twice! Anything could have happened over break.”

Peter let his eyes wander back to you. Whatever MJ was discussing with you was enthralling. You were completely consumed, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Slightly hidden under all of the layers of Winter clothing you were wearing, you looked warm, aflamed and bright. Suddenly, you threw your head back, laughing at something MJ had said.

The sound sent a shiver down Peter’s spine that he tried to pass off as a response to the cold. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his chilled hands and adjusted the strap of his backpack that dug into his shoulder. Ned blinked at him a few times, too close of a friend to not notice Peter’s nervous ticks.

Eventually, Ned glanced over in your direction too. “Well, Y/N seemed alright. We had Advanced Geometry together and we talked.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Really? Did anything happen?”

“From what Y/N said, your Winter break was way more eventful, Spiderman.”

Peter knocked the back of his hand against Ned’s shoulder to hush him. Classmates continued to file out of the school, laughing and chatting about the less than glorious return to academia. Peter eyed them all as they stepped down the stairs to the streets of the city. None of his peers seemed to have picked up on Peter’s secret. Satisfied his identity was safe, Peter glanced at Ned with a warning balanced in his frown.

“Sorry,” Ned said, raising his hands.

“Gotta be more careful.” Peter glanced around at the faces of his classmates once more. Everyone was too caught up in leaving school for the day to notice the worried look on his face. All except you when Peter accidentally met your eyes. Quickly, he tore his gaze away and stared directly, wide-eyed, at Ned.

“What?”

“Y/N.” Ned glanced over in your direction.

“Headed over with MJ. Why?”

Peter’s face warmed to the point where the scarf wrapped around his jaw was pointless. “And? Does...is...do I look okay?”

Ned squinted before his lips broke into a wide grin. A laugh rattled in his chest and Peter felt a fresh wave of panic wash over his shoulders.

“What?! Do I look-”

“Hey losers,” MJ greeted, standing by your side. Peter glanced at the curly-haired girl before he saw you gently elbowed her shoulder. He met your eyes and felt his lips instinctively curl up in a lopsided smile.

“Hi,” Peter said softly as he tried to steady his breathing. Now, with you closer, he tried to study you, sleuth out what was different.

“Hey! Do you guys wanna do something? Hang out?”

Your smile was still as bright as your eyes as you asked. Maybe it was the ruddiness in your cheeks, spurred on by the cold that made you seem changed? No, that was too simple.

“Nah, I gotta work,” MJ said.

“Wow, you got a job?” Ned asked, causing Peter to glance away from your face for a moment. When he looked back to you, Peter found that you were looking at him. Though, you quickly looked to MJ, waiting for her reply.

“Yeah, over break. At the QuikMart.”

Maybe you got a haircut or, possibly, you dyed your hair and the color was fading back to it’s natural tone. Aunt May had dyed her hair a dark red one year. Peter remembered thinking there was blood in the tub when the pigment started to wash out. Though, even with his ‘Spidey-vision’, as Ned called it, Peter couldn’t detect a color.

“Awesome. Can you get me free slushies?”

“Bro, I don’t even get free slushies,” MJ replied, frowning at Ned. “I gotta go, can’t be late. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“See ya,” you said, waving off your friend as MJ walked along the snowy sidewalks. Peter swallowed hard when you looked back to him and Ned. “What about you two?”

“I told my mom I’d be back after school to help her with my lola, my grandma.” Peter’s brow furrowed and he turned his head to look at Ned. “Really? You need help?”

“No, she’s coming over to make some food,” Ned explained as he started down the steps of the school. “I’m mom’s moral support.”

“Oh…”

“Well, have fun with that,” you said, bringing Peter’s eyes back to focus on you. “Maybe next time then.”

Ned let out another laugh. It was eerily similar to the laugh he gave Peter when he asked if he looked okay. Something about the sound made Peter’s stomach twist.

“You two have fun!” Ned’s shout disappeared after him, down the sidewalk and into the city. His words left you and Peter alone. You glanced back to him with a soft smile on your lips. Peter couldn’t help but smile back at you, even though he did so nervously. His eyes flickered up to yours then back to your lips.

While your smile was unchanged, still yours and beautiful, he kept coming back to your lips. It had to be your lips that were different and Peter leaned in slightly to figure out how. Your eyes widened slightly and Peter’s face burned with realization.

“Uh, sorry,” Peter shifted back and let his gaze fall. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I-I...to be honest, I don’t know. I just missed you over Winter break. Missed, all of you, I mean. MJ and Ned, and you.” You held Peter’s eyes for a fleeting glance before you busied yourself wiping snow off the steps with your boot.

“Yeah, I,” Peter felt his chest tightened again, “I missed you too, Y/N.”

You looked back up at him, met his brown eyes and gave him a closed-lip smile. Silence fell over the two of you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy, not tension filled and heavy. Being with you was always easy for Peter but this new nervousness that bloomed over Winter break was difficult to manage. He couldn’t let his eyes linger on you too long until fear took hold.

The silence too had its limit. “We should head over to the library maybe. You have Ms. Turner for chem, right? We could study together if you want.”

Peter fought the urge to cringe as his suggestion. In his head, it sounded better, more thought through. He had missed you and wanted to spend time with you. So, naturally, he had to recommend the quiet library. Maybe he was the one that was different, more awkward.

“Sure, yeah!” You started down the steps and Peter trailed after you. “She’s new and I’m a bit nervous about how she tests.”

“I’m nervous too,” Peter agreed as he fell into step beside you. “About the test.”

Peter glanced at you from the corner of his eyes and saw that you were already looking at him. Quickly, you both looked away from the other and started to walk silently towards the library. Every so often, Peter felt your gloved hand against the skin of his bare knuckles. Each time you touched him, a new sense of curiosity struck him. This quietness was different, he wasn’t sure that he liked it, and your hidden change still gnawed at him.

Mr. Stark had given Peter many words of wisdom. Always ask questions was, seemingly, his motto when it came to his ‘internship’. Though, Peter couldn’t find the words. Everytime he did, he second guessed.

Hey, what did you get up to over break? New style? No, no, no! It had to be your smile. He was stuck on your smile, your lips.

Finally, with nerves and desperation bubbling up inside, Peter let the words come out without thinking. “Y/N, are you wearing like lipstick or something?”

You laughed, drawing the attention of those around you. The last crosswalk before the library was fast approaching and Peter needed to find out what had changed before you were both doomed to a respectable quiet.

“Lipstick? No, I am wearing tinted chapstick though.”

“Oh,” Peter’s brow furrowed, “I guess maybe that’s what’s different.”

“Different?” At your amused tone, Peter looked at you, brown eyes searching your face. There was a softness in his eyes and stole your breath away. His lips turned up slightly at the corners, the gentlest smile you had ever seen.

“You just...you look-”

A car horn, loud, alarming, and terribly frightening ripped through the air. Peter reacted to the sound, lurching forwards and wrapping his arms around your waist. Even with your bag slung halfway on your back, Peter was able to catch you as you nearly fell into the street. The car horn faded into the distance but your attention shifted from death to Peter in an instant.

“Beautiful,” he finished.

Finally, it clicked. You hadn’t changed, but the way Peter saw you had. The way he saw your lips had shifted too. More enticing than ever before.

“Peter, I…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Peter said, quickly helping you back to your feet and out of the crosswalk. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you said with a swallow breath. Peter’s hands were still on you, thumbs gently rubbing your coat-covered, upper arm. Your eyes lingered on Peter, unable to tear them away.

His breath, and yours, came out in small clouds, chilled by the cold. Together, you made your own atmosphere and shared the same air. Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s veins, filled, not with curisoulity anymore, but want. He took a step closer.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You found yourself coaxed closer by his warmth.

“Can...can I kiss you?”

You smiled again and nodded. “Yes.”

Peter leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. His fingers dug into the material of your coat softly. One of your hands reached up, cupped his face and accidentally knocked his hat off of his brown curls. Neither of you cared and, instead, savored your shared late-Winter kiss. Peter’s hands trailed up your arms until they gently held your jaw, keeping your lips on his.

Peter’s eyes stayed closed and a smile plastered on his face when you pulled away. A chuckle passed over your lips when you saw how your tinted chapstick left a faint stain on Peter’s lips. Carefully, you used your thumb and wiped what residue you saw away. Peter’s eyes opened at the touch and his smile widened.

“Pomegranate?”

“You like it?”

Peter pulled you in for another kiss after saying, “I love it.”

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA.

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave.

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?”

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable.

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed.

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend.

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially.

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid; when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be.

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that.

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks.

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras.

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man.

“You good?” His answer was predictable.

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands.

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other.

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end.

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything.

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away.

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph.

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt.

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his.

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing.

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else.

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #fluff

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bright-molina · 3 years

Text

Emergency Contact

synopsis: Sometimes it takes an accident and the revelation that Buck is Luke's emergency contact to really bring the Buckley-Mercer (et al) Family to the same page.

fandoms: Julie and the Phantoms x 911

relationships/characters: Buckley!reader (gender neutral), Alex Mercer, Evan Buckley, Luke Patterson, Athena Grant, Maddie Buckley (all relationships are familial/platonic)

word count: 2503

warnings: mentions of minor injuries (and I mean minor, sprained ankle, minor concussion is all)

a/n: @biqherosix surprise! Catch me pushing the Buckley-Mercer family agenda cause I can. For anyone wondering, we're running with the idea that they're cousins. I honestly have no idea where this came from, I wrote it at like midnight yesterday. And it only figures that the first thing I post in forever is a crossover that is mostly self-indulgent but I promise I'm trying to get the hang of things again.

For those of y'all that haven't seen 911 but still wanna read: one, I appreciate you so much oh my gosh, two, I highly recommend it and three, all you really need to know for this one is that Buck is a firefighter with the 118, Athena Grant is a police officer, and Maddie is Buck's older sister and a 911 dispatcher. If I missed anything and you wanna know feel more than free to ask!

The absolute last thing you expected was your phone ringing well past midnight.

“Don’t answer it.”

Alex’s voice sounded from beside you, muffled by the pile of blankets he was buried under. You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone only to have him snatch it out of your grip and stuff it under the blankets alongside him.

“Give it back!”

“No,” Alex crossed his arms tighter, ignoring the second ring completely. “It’s probably Buck checking to see if we’ve gone to sleep yet, if you answer he’ll know we’re still up.”

“Like Buck would voluntarily be up right now. He’s fifteen hours into a twenty four hour shift,” You leaned back against the couch, knowing there was no tearing the phone away from Alex. “Will you at least check who it is to make sure it’s not Maddie?”

Alex groaned, loud and exaggerated, before sticking his head underneath his blankets to check your phone. You were just barely able to hear his panicked ‘uh oh’ before he put on his best fake tired voice and answered, “Hello?”

“Alexander Mercer, what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I wasn’t awake.”

“Sure you weren’t. Give the phone to y/n.”

He was handing you the phone in a flash and you could see his wide eyes in the dim blue light coming from the living room tv. “It’s Athena.”

“Thanks, I heard. And I told you so,” You smacked him with your pillow when he stuck his tongue out and he quickly ducked back under the blankets. Whether he was hiding from you or Athena was up for debate. “Hi Athena.”

“Y/N,” Uh oh was right. You recognized the tone in her voice immediately. Exasperated and tired with a little bit of worry laced through. “You wouldn’t be able to get ahold of Buck would you?”

“I could,” You sat up straighter and Alex peeked out from under the blankets again, craning his neck to listen in on the conversation. “Is something wrong? Can’t you call Captain Nash?”

“I could,” Athena echoed your words back to you and you heard muffled shouting in the back. “But Captain Nash isn’t Luke’s emergency contact.”

“His what!”

“It’s not a big deal!” Luke’s voice. It was him who had been shouting. “I’m fine!”

“The cast you’re wearing says different,” There was a click on the other end of the line and Alex tripped over the discarded blankets and pillows as he rushed to look for the car keys. “We couldn’t reach him and Maddie was his second emergency contact but May said she went home early today.”

“Yeah, uh, she -” You put on your shoes as fast as possible and reached for the nearest sweater, one you were sure wasn’t yours. “Jee’s teething so she - she’s probably busy with her. What happened? Luke -”

“Is fine. You just focus on getting to the station and bringing Buck to Med cause he’s gotta fill out some papers. I’ll stay here with him until you do.”

“Okay. Okay we’ll be there soon.”

“Y/N put me on speaker,” Athena must’ve been able to hear the panic in your voice. She knew both you and Alex well enough to know every emotion that was running through you both at that moment. “I want both of you to listen to me. Luke is okay. A little scratched up. Maybe a bruised ego. But he’s just fine, I promise you.”

If there was anybody you trusted it was Athena Grant. So you and Alex shared a look, thanked her, and sprinted out of the apartment wondering what on earth Luke had gotten himself into.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“Athena didn’t tell us anything!” You shouted right back at Buck despite knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea given the time or the circumstances. Alex was a few feet away, talking quietly to Chimney to have him relay a message to Maddie. She’d be less angry if the news came from him.

“I thought he went back home,” Buck shook his head before jogging down the stairs and you followed him. He all but charged to the locker room and started shoving all his things in the duffel he always carted with him from the apartment to the station and back. “I thought he was okay.”

It wasn’t until then, until you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the little mirror in his locker surrounded by pictures, that you realized something. Evan Buckley, the firefighter, your brother who always seemed so fearless, was scared.

Buck’s mind was racing at a million miles an hour. He kept going through every piece of information he could from the last two days. Luke had promised him. Sworn he was going back home to his parents. He should’ve known better. They were too much alike and he should’ve known better.

He supposed the worrying came with the territory. The anxiety and panic and not knowing were all things he didn’t like but things he would bear if it meant making sure one of his own was okay.

He had always been protective. You were the youngest Buckley and he took it upon himself to make sure you had a better life than him and Maddie had had. Alex was family and he didn’t hesitate to give him a home when he needed one, metaphorically and literally.

And somewhere along the way the Buckley-Mercer family had grown without him realizing it. Alex had brought his band, his friends, over for dinner once and from that moment on they became a fixture in his life.

Bobby, who was surprised the first time Maddie grinned and hugged him, telling him how proud she was of him. Reggie, who was the first to accept a place in their makeshift home, needing the support and love they offered more than anything. And Luke, who was stubborn and wore his heart on his sleeve and fit right in with them.

And Buck couldn’t believe he had let them down. He couldn’t believe that he tried so hard to let Luke know he was there for him and he had failed. If he had just paid a little more attention then -

“I know what you’re thinking,” Your voice cut off his thoughts and he paused for a moment before continuing.

“No you don’t.”

“You’re blaming yourself. It’s what you always do,” You watched as he pocketed his phone and zipped up the bag. “It’s what you did when I thought I could jump off the swing and ended up with a broken arm even though you couldn’t have stopped me. It’s what you did when Alex had that really bad allergic reaction even though none of us knew he was allergic in the place. It’s what you’re doing now.”

Buck slammed the locker shut without meaning to and silently wondered how you seemed to know everything about him when he seemed to know nothing about any of you, not really. He wasn’t like you or Maddie or Alex and that had never been more clear.

“I’m not blaming myself. I just -” He sighed and walked out of the locker room, past you and Alex, and around to the drivers side of the car. He didn’t get in yet. Instead he glanced between the two of you. “I’m not Maddie. I don’t know how to tell what you guys are thinking. I don’t know how to do the things she does. I can’t help how she does. But - but maybe if I could then -”

“You’re right,” You cut him off, already knowing where he was going. “You’re not Maddie. But we don’t need another Maddie, we need Buck.”

“Y/N’s right,” Alex leaned against the top of the car and gave an easy shrug. “Maddie does family dinners every week and helps us with homework and keeps superhero bandaids around for when Reg and Bobby come back from the skate park with scrapes all over them. But you host game nights and come to every one of our practices when you’re not here and tell really bad jokes when you know we need to hear them.”

“They aren’t bad -”

“Yeah they are,” Both you and Alex answered in sync, successfully pulling the faintest laugh from Buck.

“You’re Buck,” You repeated and finally opened the door of the car. “And when Luke left home he came to you. Athena said you’re his emergency contact because he trusts you more than anyone else. We all do.”

It took less than a couple seconds for Buck to nod and get in the car, the two of you following his lead. Moments later he was speeding away from the 118 and in the direction of the hospital, determined to be where he was needed.

“You’re an idiot, Luke Patterson.”

“Wow thanks,” Luke rolled his eyes from where he sat on the couch, an action that earned him a scolding from you, and kept picking at the fabric of the pillow he was holding to him.

It was nearing mid morning and you had all gotten back to Buck’s apartment only a short while ago. The combined insistence and intimidation coming from both Buck and Athena meant the doctors had no choice but to run as many tests as necessary until they were positive Luke was fine.

Your eyes scanned his face again, a habit you’d picked up from Maddie, in an attempt to assess the damage once more to be sure nothing had gone wrong in the last ten minutes.

A butterfly bandage on his forehead above his left eye. Some scrapes on his arms from the fall. The brace around his right ankle propped up on the coffee table and some pillows. A tear in his favorite flannel that you were already patching up.

“What were you thinking?” You sighed and dropped your hands, turning in your spot beside him to look at him and read all the expressions flashing across his face. “You got hit by a car, Luke.”

“I did not!” He flinched when Alex, fast asleep across the other couch, shifted a little at the noise. Buck did the same thing upstairs in the loft, though he recognized the sound of talking and opted to listen in. “I swerved out of the way. The bike lost control and I hit the pavement but I’m fine.”

“The mild concussion and sprained ankle beg to differ,” You stared again. Luke refused to meet your eyes, refused to look anywhere around the apartment that wasn’t the pillow on his lap. He’d been doing the same thing since Buck had nearly busted down the door of the room he’d been sitting in at the hospital. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Luke finally sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it go any time soon. “I just - I did go home. At first. And i-it was okay until my mom started doing that -that thing she does. The voice, talking down, asking when I was gonna start getting serious, telling me I should do better. I tried but she wouldn’t stop saying all of it so I -” His shoulders sank and his head hung low and you moved closer. “I left.”

“So why didn’t you come back here?” You reached out, hand on his arm in an attempt to get him to hear you. To listen to you. To talk to you. “What made you think you couldn’t?”

It took a few moments but when Luke finally looked up his eyes were watering and he looked unsure. He looked scared and he was never scared. “I didn’t want to disappoint anyone else.”

“I don’t know if you know this,” You gave a sigh and leaned against the back of the couch on one arm. “But we are, historically, a pretty messed up family.”

You successfully pulled a laugh from Luke and a muffled ‘shut up’ from Alex only made the two of you laugh more. But when the laughter faded away you were left with the ghost of those doubts. Present and needing closure. To be acknowledged and reassured.

“There is nothing you could do that would disappoint Maddie and Buck, believe me,” You gave him a faint, sad smile and for a second he wondered what memories were the source of it. “And you never have to be scared. We’re your family and we’re here for you. Me and Alex and Buck and Maddie. Athena who stayed with you until we got there and after. Chimney who’s breaking the news to Maddie to save us all. Albert. May. Bobby. Reggie. You have all of us. I hate to break it to you but you’re a part of our weird little family and we aren’t going anywhere any time soon. So please, please never feel like you have to hide from us. You’re home here, Luke.”

And he believed every word. For a moment he wondered why he ever doubted it in the first place. It was evident in the way he had a designated spot at the dining table at Maddie’s place. In the way his clothes took up a good amount of space in one of the dressers upstairs. In the pair of house keys that hung on a chain around his neck. Reggie and Bobby were also given a pair long ago.

“Does one of you want to explain to me what the hell happened!” The sound of the door being thrown open startled all of you. Alex sat up quickly and Buck came barreling down the stairs to meet Maddie at the door.

Bobby and Reggie came in after her, holding piles of various items she’d insisted on bringing with. They were followed moments later by Albert carrying bags filled with takeout and then Chimney with Jee-Yun in her car seat.

It was dead silent for a moment as Maddie looked between her siblings, her cousin, and the boy she considered one of her own. They were all her family and that was that.

Finally the silence was broken by Luke leaning over in your direction and quietly asking, “Hey, does home have a place I can hide from Maddie until she’s less mad?”

“Oh, Luke,” You offered him a smile he recognized as a slightly sympathetic yet playful one. “There is nowhere you can hide where Maddie’s anger, love, and aggressive post-injury nurturing won’t reach. Good luck.”

She sat in your spot the moment you stood up and was immediately making sure Luke was okay. Her eyes scanned each injury just as yours had and when she finally let him take a breath he looked around.

All of this, the chaos that was unpacking the various takeout boxes. Setting up a little station on the kitchen island with various medical supplies. Chasing Jee-Yun around as she crawled and wobbled all around the place. Music playing softly in the background as everyone smiled and talked and felt relieved that he was okay.

This was home. Luke was sure of it.

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Under the Rain

Written by: @nightlock-1989

Prompt 9: Canon-Divergent/ In Panem D12 “I waited for you” he said but she didn’t reply. He pressed for an answer he knew he deserved, “under the rain, Katniss. I waited for you, under the rain… why would you do that?” / “I can’t do this anymore, Peeta” / “Bullshit, you can but you just don’t want. I thought you were brave!” he yelled at her looking for any reaction that will give some hope. His tears threatening to run down his face. / She didn’t move, and she didn’t correct her, so he ran away and slammed the door behind him. / “I love you” Katniss said to an empty room. [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

@alwayseverlark, I hope you enjoy what I’ve come up with for your prompt. This is part one that sets the foundation for what will happen in your prompt. This will be three parts.

Under the Rain- Part One- Rated T

16 years old

Not Prim, not Prim, not Prim, not Prim.

“Ela Fairsmith” Effie Trinket announces.

I breathe a sigh of relief and do everything I can to fight a smile. While Prim and I are spared, Ela, a girl two years older than me from the Seam was just reaped and is walking to her death.

Madge subtly reaches for my hand and gives it a light squeeze. She looks to me with a tight-lipped smile.

“Now for the male tribute,” the escort says with excitement.

Not Gale, not Gale, not Gale, not Gale.

“Pe-“ she begins.

I tighten the hold on Madge’s hand enough to the point she lets out a small hiss.

“-ter Edmund.”

I finally release the breath I was holding. It’s another boy from the Seam, slightly younger than me.

“Sorry,” I mumble. She removes her hand and sets it on my shoulder.

“You should go find your sister,” she recommends.

I move to walk away when Madge grabs me by the wrist.

“Are you going tonight?” she asks.

“To what?” I answer.

“The celebration by the meadow.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Gale’s last year; right?”

“I don’t think—”

“Just think about it,” she shrugs. “I’ll be there at 8:00.”

Her behavior puzzles me. Every year, the teenagers of District 12, gather in the meadow and have a bonfire, both Seam and Merchant, to celebrate the fact that they weren’t reaped. This is particularly popular among those who have aged out of the Reaping or have a loved one who aged out.

I’ve never been but I’ve heard the older kids whisper about it. People save any extra money to obtain some white liquor from Ripper, causing Haymitch Abernathy, her best customer to lose his mind one year. It’s not uncommon for girls to come to my mother for an herb concoction, finding themselves pregnant after the night at the Slag Heap.

For both classes, it’s their last true night of freedom, their final chance to be irresponsible. Tomorrow will be their final day of rest and later in the night, the only thing they will be doing is going to bed early to begin their life in the mines or in town.

It is Gale’s final reaping and while one would think he could breathe easier, it doesn’t. While Gale has aged out, Rory will be eligible next year, and eventually Vick and Posy. I’m lucky with just Prim. I don’t see why Gale would want to go to something so stupid.

I open my mouth to disagree while backing up, when I suddenly hit something solid and nearly trip. Hands grab my hips to hold me steady, but I shy away at the touch and immediately turn around to see who touched me. I look into the wide blue eyes of Peeta Mellark. I imagine mine are filled with fury.

“Uh, sorry. I, uh-um, I thought,” he rambles.

“I have to find Prim,” I spit out before storming off.

I see her smiling with her group of friends when I approach. She throws her arms around me and my heart warms.

“Ready to go home, Little Duck?” She nods and we go to meet my mother.

Later while enjoying an indulgent meal (for us anyway) of rabbit stew with the Hawthorne family, we are interrupted by a pounding on the door.

Hazelle goes to answer, and a frantic voice is asking for Violet, my mother. I hear a muted conversation and my mom informs us that a mother is expecting twins. Prim, a little healer in the making, offers to go. 8:00 comes around when Posy begins yawning, signaling time for bed.

Gale offers to walk me home, but I decline, and we make plans to meet early tomorrow morning.

I don’t live too far from the Hawthorne’s but it’s a nice night and I decide to take a walk. I become aware of someone around. I look and see Cray, the head Peacekeeper.

“Katniss Everdeen,” he says with a smug grin.

“Officer Cray,” I greet ducking my head down.

“Looks like the odds were in your favor.” Cray begins stepping towards me.

I continue walking but look up. “I suppose so.”

“What are you doing out here alone?” he asks curiously.

“I’m not…er, I won’t be for long.”

He slowly continues walking my way and I decide to turn right instead of continuing forward.

“Heading to the meadow?”

“Yes,” I spit out.

He’s still following me, and the meadow is now in sight. I quicken my pace.

“Big plans, Miss Everdeen?”

“Yep.” I look in the crowd, but I don’t see Madge. I do see Peeta Mellark, and he’s spotted me. I’ve caught him staring at me a few times over the years, but he always looks away. Tonight, he doesn’t. Does he recognize the tense body language? Can he detect the fear in my eyes from this far away?

I don’t hesitate before I raise my hand and wave quickly. He breaks away from his group and starts walking towards me. I notice the moment that he sees Cray lurking in the shadows.

“Hi Peeta,” I say in what I hope is my most cheery voice. I don’t want Cray to register the terror in my voice.

“There you are, Katniss,” he says with a huge smile, as if nothing is wrong. He sets a hand on my shoulder and I slightly flinch. His blue eyes pierce mine, silently telling me to go with it. “Madge almost had us send out a search party. You told us you would be here at 8:00,” the sound of his voice increasing slightly.

“My mom needed me to drop off some supplies. Mrs. Oatbrook’s having twins.”

“Well, let’s go find Madge so she calms down.” He guides me forward with his hand on my back.

“Breathe in,” he leans in closer and whispers. When we reach the other teens, I finally allow myself to exhale.

“Are you okay?” he asks, bending down to look me over.

“Fine,” I say shortly.

“Are you sure?” he bends his head down to look in my eyes.

I’m momentarily stunned. Have his eyes always been that shade of blue. I feel as if I could get lost forever in them before I shake the thoughts away. Why am I thinking about Peeta Mellark? I need to get a handle on this situation. “Damn it, Peeta. I’m fine. You don’t need to rescue me all the time,” I say storming off after I spot Madge engaged in a conversation with Delly Cartwright. She’s just nodding her head.

“Hi, Katniss. I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” Delly drones on and on while I try to calm down. I begin looking around for a Seam kid I recognize when I spot one of Gale’s friends, Thom. Okay, good. I’ll leave when he leaves. My house is along his route.

“Thirsty?” Madge asks.

I’m not even thinking straight or registering the odd, burning taste until it’s already down my throat, having been desperate to ease my dry throat. I must have drunk half her bottle but all I can do now is cough.

Why did that taste like peaches?

“Because it’s mixed with peach juice,” Madge laughs.

“Wait, what?” Did I say that out loud?

Delly begins laughing. “Have you ever drunk before, Katniss?”

“No,” I shake my head.

“May I?” Delly asks. Madge hands her the glass and she takes a drink and ponders. “What is that?”

“Something called vodka. I swiped it from my mom’s dresser.”

“Rye,” Delly calls. Rye Mellark is one year from aging out. The resemblance he has to his brothers is remarkable. When he approaches, I look him in the eye. His eyes are blue but not the same as Peeta’s. Ugh, I’m thinking of Peeta again.

“Delly, Madge,” he says with a brief hug. “And Miss Everdeen, this is a rare gift,” he says with a curious tone. His smile is also nice, but he doesn’t have Peeta’s dimple.

“Can I have your glass?” Delly asks Rye. Delly takes another sip of the peach concoction and a sip of whatever Rye has.

“Well, I don’t see how this could be stronger than Rippers.”

“What stuff?” he asks.

Madge hands him the cup and he takes a small sip.

“Yeah, it’s not,” he answers quickly.

“I think you’ll be okay, Katniss,” Delly assures me. What does she mean I’ll be okay? I didn’t ingest poison or anything.

I’m getting very warm. I begin to remove my sweater and drape it over my arm. They’re talking but I’m not even caring. Everything feels…. lighter? But at the same time, my body feels heavier.

“I feel better already,” I say with a grin.

“Not as strong but Everdeen’s little as it is. She’ll be feeling it in the morning.”

“But the night is so young,” I say with a puzzled look. “It’s warm and the fire’s hot.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I’ll see you pretty babes later.”

Delly and Madge giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls…. wait, so am I.

“He’s so cute,” Delly whispers.

“Eh, if he’s your type,” Madge says.

“I just love his eyes.”

“I thought Prim had the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” I offer.

“Katniss, we’re talking about boys,” Delly adds.

“The floor is moving,” I say and grab for Delly’s hand.

“You mean the ground?” Madge asks.

“Sure,” I let go and begin heading towards the large rock that I sometimes sit on after I finish hunting.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Madge grabs my elbow. “This is my fault. You’re sticking by me.”

I scoff. “Why is everyone trying to take care of me? I can take care of myself. First Mellark, now you.” I wrangle free from her grasp.

“Wait, Rye was trying to take care of you?” Delly asks.

“No, Mellark,” I emphasize. “MY boy with the bread. If we have to-to-to- aren’t you warm?” Madge shakes her head with a smirk.

Her and Delly glance to the side and wave someone over.

“What were you saying about Mellark?” Delly laughs putting a finger to her lip.

“Yeah, the boy with the bread?” Madge encourages.

“My,” I gesture with a hand to my chest. “MY boy with the bread.” The girls are laughing loudly. “And if we are going to talk about boys, then Peeta’s eyes are the most prettiest blue. And his brother doesn’t even have a dimple.”

“I think that might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever been given,” a familiar voice says.

“Ugh,” I turn around and glare at Madge. “No more strawberries for you. Screw this, I can walk my own ass home. I don’t need you,” I point to Peeta, “or you,” I point to Madge, “or you,” I point across the fire at Thom. They all dodge out of the way as if there are tracker jackers around. Maybe I’m just flailing instead of pointing.

“What did you give her?” Peeta asks.

“We already EEE-STAB-LISHED this,” I emphasize taking a step forward, tripping in the process. A pair of strong hands catch me.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Peeta suggests.

“I was trying to go to my rock by the tree, but Madge wouldn’t let me.”

“I wasn’t going to let her go alone,” Madge explains to Peeta.

“Smart idea.” Peeta looks around and leans into Madge and whispers, “Cray was eyeing her.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” I add.

“I know you’re not, Katniss,” Madge says with a frown.

“He can’t have me,” I proclaim.

“We know, Katniss. We just want to make sure you’re safe,” Peeta says.

“You and your savior complex,” I groan before marching towards my rock and plopping down.

After about a minute, I hear a loud gait approaching. “May I sit down?” Peeta asks.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll walk over there,” he points to a tree not too far from my rock. “And keep an eye on you there.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve done just fine on my own,” I scold.

“I know you have…. Everyone knows that you have.”

“Fine,” I huff, crossing my arms. I relent and move my sweater so that he may sit next to me. I tilt myself towards him, one leg tucked under my knee. “Wouldn’t you rather enjoy the party?”

“And miss out on the chance to speak to the elusive and mysterious Katniss Everdeen?” he grins. “Never.”

“I’m not mysterious,” I say.

“Yeah, you are. No one knows much about you.”

“So?”

“So…. If we are going to be friends, that means we tell each other the deep stuff.”

“Deep stuff?”

“Like what your favorite color is.”

“You’ve crossed a line now, Mellark,” I reply staring at him causing him to furrow his brow before I burst out laughing. He joins me. It’s a nice sound.

“Mine’s orange,” he says.

“Like the fruit?” I cringe.

“Softer, more muted…. Like a sunset.”

“The sunset over the lake is beautiful,” I say wistfully before covering my mouth and looking around.

“No one heard,” he assures me. “Well, except me…. Do you see many of those sunsets?”

“Only once since my dad died,” I mumble. “Green, like the woods.”

“That’s very appropriate for the strongest-willed girl in District 12.”

I scoff, “There you go again.”

“Go again with what?” he smiles.

“The compliments,” I say before the silence begins. I chance another glance and look in his eyes. We’re further away from the fire so it’s not as pronounced but I still can’t help getting lost in them. “Your eyes, they are like…. I don’t know. You can’t describe it.”

“They’re just blue,” he chuckles.

“No, they’re not. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“How much did you drink?” he teases while I give him a light shove.

“I don’t know.”

“Moonlight,” Peeta says softly.

I look up at the crescent moon puzzled. “What about it?”

“Your eyes… the only way I could describe it is it’s like moonlight,” Peeta answers before taking a drink and cringing. “How the hell does Haymitch drink this all the time?”

“Let me have some,” I reach for the cup and Peeta holds it out of my reach. I lean forward, invading his space and reach for the cup. I put one hand on his thigh which causes him to still his movements. He lowers the glass and looks back at me. I flex my hand and remove it.

“One small sip,” he instructs.

“What makes you so sure I’ll listen to you?”

“Nothing, but I hope you trust me enough to heed my warning.”

“I trust you…. I think,” I whisper taking the glass from his hand and sipping before I spit it out.

Peeta laughs and takes another sip. I stand up, wobbling slightly, Peeta gently grasping my arm as he stands up.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly.

The buzz is starting to fade. Maybe getting drunk was exactly what I needed because I would never be brave enough to say this sober.

“You always have,” I whisper. “Thank you for the bread.”

“Wait, from when we were kids,” he asks. I nod.

“Katniss, that was nothing. And I should have gone out- “

“Your mother beat you for it,” I interrupt.

“Katniss, it was fine. You were- “

“Peeta- “I try to stop him from saying more.

“No Katniss…” His voice fades as he continues to ramble about who knows what.

“Peeta,” I say but he just keeps going. I do the only thing I can think of to do as I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. It does indeed shut him up. When I pull back his eyes are wide open and he’s staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads. Of course, he would be horrified that a Seam girl just kissed him.

“I’m, uh- “I freeze.

“Well, shit,” he says and then licks his lips before smirking.

“I—I have to go find Madge,” I mumble before storming off. I find Delly and Rye and I’m horrified. I can’t face anyone who looks like Peeta right now. I look into the crowd and I don’t see her face, but I do see her outfit…. and the back of Gale’s head. They are walking towards the Slag Heap. My jaw drops. I hear Peeta approaching.

“You okay?” he asks.

“My best friends are headed towards the slag heap? How could they?”

“I’m so sorry, Katniss. I, I know you’re with Gale—”

“What?” I interrupt.

“You and Gale, you favor each other.”

“No,” I say and shake my head.

“Oh…. Well, I thought—”

“You thought I was dating Gale even though I kissed you?”

“Well, drinking makes people do stupid things,” he offers.

“No, shit,” I say with a roll of my eyes. I begin to scan the crowd, looking for Thom.

“So, you’re okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. I just don’t know why they didn’t tell me. I don’t know how it even happened. He’s always whining about her and her townie ass.” I don’t see Thom anywhere. He’s probably at the slag heap too. I groan.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks.

“I’m looking for Thom so I can walk home with him.”

“I can walk you home,” Peeta offers.

“Then I’ll just owe you more,” I point out exasperated.

“Can we stop with the whole owing thing, Katniss? We’re friends, we don’t worry about owing friends.”

“Friends? I’m not so good at friends.”

“Yeah, but I know your favorite color. That means we are on our way to best friends.”

This causes me to snort. “Don’t you want to stay at the party?”

“Party or walking a pretty girl home?” he says with a tilt to his head. “Definitely going with the pretty girl.”

“I’m not pretty,” I mutter.

“You have no idea the effect you can have, do you?”

There is a loose tendril of hair that has come out of my braid. Peeta reaches towards it before stopping. He’s asking me with is eyes for permission. He takes whatever it is that my face is saying as a yes before tucking it behind my ear.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, offering me his arm which I surprisingly find myself taking. We walk at a leisurely pace back to the Seam. We walk along in silence before I stop.

“Peeta?” I ask gazing at his face.

“Yes?”

I open my mouth not sure what to say so I just go with what comes to mind. “What’s your favorite thing to do on a Sunday?” Sundays are usually when the town businesses shut down early in the afternoon.

He grins, “You’re going for the really deep stuff now. You know there is no turning back now. We are definitely friends after this.” He waits for an answer and I nod.

We continue walking while he tells me about how he likes to draw on any spare sheet of paper he can get his hands on. He tells me about how he sketches the things around him. A loaf of bread, the apple tree, the pigs, the town square. His favorite though is a dandelion. We walk in silence, the weight of his words in the balance.

We reach my doorstep and stare at each other. The silence is becoming painful, and I have to know.

“Why a dandelion?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“You know why, Katniss.”

I nod. “I thought I’d lost all hope. That bread sustained me and my family until I realized I already knew a way to take care of my family…. That dandelion was hope…. And you lead me to it.” He doesn’t say anything. “Jeez, it must be open my mouth and embarrass myself day. Never mind, I’m drunk, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Are you really? Or has it worn off and you’re now lying about it?”

He searches my eyes, willing me to tell the truth. “I’m a little drunk, but I know exactly what I’m saying.” His gaze is making me vulnerable, and I hold my breath. Peeta steps closer. He’s in my space and my senses are overwhelmed. There are butterflies and heat in my stomach.

Peeta lifts my chin and leans down, his lips barely touching mine. “Will you allow it?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I say, the word barely getting out before his lips are pressing against my mouth. I don’t know what I’m doing but Peeta does. He cradles my jaw before he gently moves his lips against mine. I grab his shoulders so that he will stay rooted to me. We kiss for a couple of minutes, our lips dancing together. He doesn’t try for more. He is the first to pull back.

“Good night, Katniss,” he whispers grabbing my hand to press a kiss to it. He turns around and walks towards town. I head inside and lean against the door. What the hell just happened?

When I wake the next morning, I have a major headache and am slightly nauseous, even more so when I think about that kiss. What the hell was I thinking?

I try to clear my head in the woods, I really do but I’m missing every single shot. This has never happened before. Damn you, Peeta Mellark. I decide to get more strawberries for Madge before heading into town. When I reach the meadow outside of the fence, I notice the dandelions and I begrudgingly pull them out.

Before I know it, I’m at the bakery and I glance in the window. I see Peeta, and no one else. This is stupid but my body is clearly not listening to my head since I’m setting the dandelions on the doorstep and knocking. At least my body works enough to run off behind the apple tree where I hope Peeta can’t see me.

He opens the door and looks around before he looks down. He bends to pick up the dandelions and a wide grin appears on his face. Shit…. I’m in trouble.

#nightlock-1989 #alwayseverlark #prompt 9 #Springtime edition 2021 #submission

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closer-stars · 3 years

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Heart of Depth (1)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff Word Count: 8.8k (nice) Requested: I g u ess so,,, Content: Yeosang’s rich but he’s tired but wait there’s More. Genshin Impact AU/Inspired-- I say inspired bec this is more modern than where Genshin is currently set. Food mention. Allusions to death. (there will be fighting in future parts) Note: Hi so... uh,,, this is actually a Months old request that happened at the height of some personal,,, things,,,, so I may have forgotten One aspect of the request and got carried away. i am so Sorry. There’s gonna be fluff eventually. If you would like to be tagged for this, please do tell me~ Thank you also to my beta readers! Also Yes i changed the title to something else, I think this just Fits better. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag List: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult

How long has it been since he has mingled with humans? He’s not sure. He’s not quite sure either of how old he is. Sapphire eyes gaze at the scenery from where he stands. Over north, he remembers a battle that has left thousands scarred in years to come, honored and remembered rightfully in generations to come. To the east, he remembers the betrayal of his dear friend for power, how difficult it was to wash away the blood from his hands. It was more difficult to wash away the nightmares. In the west, he can still picture a palace being built, only to be ruined once more by opposing forces who saw potential in his land, how he raised so much chaos to bring order back. Southwards, he remembers his lover, their lively eyes dimming with a promise of seeing them soon. It’s been too long since that promise and not once has he seen them. The memory causes him to fiddle with the pendant hidden beneath his shirt. He tries not to play that memory in his head once more as it would only causehim more pain than necessary.

He’s seen the world decay and grow. He sees the mountain of which he created eons back to tame a beast that once ravaged the lands. Fortunately, the beast is no more, the area has become a place for people to relax and unwind from the stressors of present day life. He wonders how humans have come this far, little by little gaining independence from a god that led them to safety. The need for a god is ending soon as it is only a matter of time before he passes on the powers to someone else. All his friends have retreated away from their responsibilities, handing the job to those who can continue it for them. He’s the only one from the original seven that is left.

He wonders: do these people still need a god?

This was a question better left for another day, for today is a full day of routined duties.

He returns to his living space, spacious but empty. What else can an immortal put into their home without giving away their age? Even if humans can barely understand the concept of immortality, priceless antiques can make him a target of many, so he tries to live simply. He of all people should know that.

Alas, the key word here is: tries.

The furniture around his abode are not of cheap quality, but one of longevity, not that his wallet hurts at the price. His clothes are not from everyday brands either, while he does not look down those whose options are limited by currency, his preferences for clothes can make one mistake him to be a regular of luxury brand releases. His palate though was another thing entirely. He misses the food of the past, while there are some areas that have kept the practice to produce the meals he misses alive, the process to acquire them is tedious.

What he wants, he can get with ease. All except someone. The empty feeling in his living space has not changed since his lover’s passing. Since then, he’s never taken an interest in anyone else, holding onto their promise of seeing each other soon. Whenever that will be. He’s gotten used to living on his own but he does not like it. Watching humans below him move at such a pace exhausts him, they live longer than the humans he remembers, but still move as if their lives are shorter.

Ironic really.

The sky is a beautiful purple once he’s near his home and rather than cooking something, he opts for take-out. Somewhere along the way of his existence, he eventually has settled for what humans now eat and as a result, he has a small soft spot for fried chicken. He misses seeing the stars though, how they remind him of them and the way they’ve created them to be what they are now.

Each one carries someone’s destiny. Maybe he should’ve asked them where his star is.

He buys himself a hearty serving of fried chicken with the various dips to eat for the night. He waits outside of the franchise, watching people come and go, hurrying to bury themselves in the comfort of their own homes. With the years of life on him, he finds no reason to hurry. It doesn’t take too long for the staff to hand his chicken to him, bidding him goodbye as they cater to the next customer. At least he didn’t forget his wallet today.

Yeosang has been a creature of habit, always wanting to do certain things in a certain order every day. But something about today makes him want to break the sense of familiarity, no harm in it he assumes. He’s been the only god in this region thus far, save for a few other creatures that roam the roads to protect the humans from unexplainable happenings. He spots the new coffee shop down the corner, it’s clear that they’re fairly new. He didn’t have anything waiting at home, he could spare them a visit to support their budding endeavors.

He enters the empty shop, and already he’s greeted by a light wind chime tinkling as he closes the door, along with a few pastries on display. There were a few flowers sprinkled about in the premises as well.

“Welcome!”

A bright voice catches his attention and it takes him a few moments to tear his gaze from the curious confectionery treats to shift his attention to the person behind the counter. Something in his chest drops at the sight of you. There’s something about you that stirs a feeling in him and he’s stunned. It’s been awhile since he’s seen eyes that remind him of wine: brewed carefully, poised and intense.

His gaze on you is unmoving, and it causes you to shift on your feet. You clear your throat to have him snap out of his daze. “Sir? Would you like to order something?” You’re worried your first customer is a creep and you’d have to install more security measures in your shop. A small part of you hopes it’s just the first day exhaustion getting the better of you because there’s no logical explanation as to why this man’s eyes seem to glow. He doesn’t answer again and you speak up a little louder this time.

“Sir? Would you like to order?”

Your question brings him back to reality and he blinks for a few moments. He’s not on a hill. He’s in a coffee shop, being eyed with confusion by you. He clears his throat and straightens his back. “Apologies for the lapse in attention, what do you recommend?” He asks carefully, eyeing the sweets and the menu that displays various coffees and tea. Truthfully, he would’ve gone for his black tea but what’s the point when he wants to know more of what your shop creates and gives?

You glance at your menu then at him. “Are you into sweets? If you are, I recommend the iced dark mocha and the caramel macaron. If not, then the Moroccan mint tea latte and the vanilla macaron.” Truthfully, you pegged him as someone who didn’t have a sweet tooth but looks have always been deceiving haven’t they? You watch the man take your options into deep thought as you stand there, waiting for his decision. Should you have described your products? Do they not sound good? Is it too limiting? “I can also rec--”

“I’ll take the mint tea latte and the vanilla macaron.” He says, fishing out his wallet for the second time. Without another word, you ring his order and ask for him to wait for a few moments for you to prepare his order. He takes a seat nearby as he observes the interiors of the new shop. It’s simple, quaint, comfortable, things that remind one of home after a long day.

You approach his table with the prepared latte and macaron in a small bag for him to carry on the way home. “Here are your orders, Sir.” Your voice brings him out of his musings. The smell of mint laced with the subtle sweetness of vanilla greets him as he returns to reality.

“Please just call me Yeosang.” He tells you as he stands up, ready to return home. His eyes still bear a heavy weight as he looks at you intently. The request catches you off guard, but you nod regardless. You watch him leave the premises, leaving you alone with the wind chimes tinkling in his wake. Your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of your sight, walking to wherever you assume he’d live. A strange man indeed but at least you had a customer for today. It’s a slow start but it is a start. It would take a while before you can close for the day but no matter, you can clean up whatever must be cleaned until the next customer comes in.

On the other hand, Yeosang has taken a few sips of the latte, somehow attracted to the subtle creamy texture with the comforting sharpness mint carries. He never had a liking for over sweetened tea with cream, the recent rise of milk tea has left him confused with the palate of humans but this tea fits his taste. He wonders if he can recreate this in the coming days, for now, he wants to be in his home eating his chicken.

His thoughts return to you, wondering who you are really. Someone that reminds him of years past, before the world is what it is now. For now, he focuses on what’s in front of him: fried chicken, tea latte, and a macaron. Perhaps he’ll drop by your shop again in the days to come.

---------

Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t have many customers today because your best friend has decided to enter the establishment. “What’s my favorite human doing?” He asks in the most obnoxious way. The volume startles you out of your daydreams and it’s a good thing you had quick reflexes, otherwise you would’ve dropped your glasses.

“Have you ever heard of an indoor voice, Wooyoung?” You chide, with a wiggle of your finger you conjure a small wisp of icy air against the exposed skin of his ankle. This causes him to yelp in fear, thinking it was an insect. Fortunately, it was just your antics.

He complains after hearing your snickering. “You know I don’t like insects!” He whines as he sauntered over to the counter. He thought you would’ve kept the pearl back home but he guesses the first day jitters made you want the reassurance of the pearl.

You lean against your elbows as he eyes your menu with utmost curiosity. “Can I help you?” His complaints don’t faze you, if anything it makes you want to annoy him more.

“Can’t I worry over my best friend? It is their first day of their new job!” It’s so hard to stay angry at a guy who just knows he’s charming and well intentioned. Also, you’ve known this guy since you were children.

So you sigh, conceding to his wishes, “It’s a slow day, Wooyoung. I’m actually surprised I got this shop to become a reality. I think you’re my third customer-- speaking of which, what would you like to order?”

“Do I get a discount?”

“Do I think you should get a cup full of ice poured down your shirt?”

He pouts at your retort. “Are you at least going to let me buy the strawberry cake?”

“Do you want coffee with that?” You ask as you start ringing up his order.

“Iced americano please?” There was no need to add syrup into his order if he uses that tone again. Maybe that’s the perk of having your best friend taste test all your creations, he just knows what to order and it’s clear that he loves your strawberry cake.

He decides to stay in your shop until closing. There’s really no reason for him to head home when the two of you are sharing an apartment to ease the burden on your respective wallets. Living on your own is expensive. The remaining hours of the shop go by with Wooyoung telling you about his day and his shift at a dance studio. It’s still a little hard to function after the new sickness has ended but life has to keep moving. You fill him in on the new face you saw today, an interesting man, well kept with what looked like high quality clothes, yet the stark contrast of the fried chicken he held was a nice twist you admit. You don’t mention the glowing eyes otherwise Wooyoung would chalk it up to you and your affinity for anything creepy late at night.

“You just met this guy and you’re already gushing about him. This is why I told you to download that dating app already.”

“Shut up, Wooyoung, I’m not into him like that. Even if they do an event to boost their sales, I’m not downloading an app just for the sake of dating!” You return with a whine. Eyes shift from the annoying man lounging on the stool across you, to the clock hanging on the wall. Time to clean up and close for the day. “Move your butt, Wooyoung. I have to clean up the place before I close for the day.” Bless his soul though, for he helps you clean up and take out the trash.

The distance from home isn’t too far, but it isn’t too near either. A few stops away using the train and it doesn’t hurt the wallet for the most part.

Really this spot is a dream come true for you.

----------

‘Leave! Take my people with you!’

‘Don’t be foolish! You can’t fight them alone!’

A harsh shove puts him out of harm’s way. The last thing he sees is the confident smile shining against the heavy downpour.

He awakens with a jolt. Eyes glowing brightly only to dim to brown orbs as he tries to regain his bearings, above him is a cream colored ceiling, not the stormy skies that pelt against his window. It’s been thousands of years but the burden still presents itself on his shoulders. Yeosang sits up, brushing his hair up and out of his vision. On his bedside stands an amulet, sewn into it were the visuals of a rare white flower. Never had he found someone to give this too, for the sake of safekeeping. Choi San was considered but he thought better, his lifestyle would have left the amulet in a concerning state. For now, it will stay on his bedside.

Another day of business meetings.

Another day of wanting something.

See, while Yeosang found comfort in the luxury of his home and in routine, it still felt stifling. Being a god isn’t as glamorous as modern pop culture makes it out to be. He wonders who gave these humans the idea that being immortal, being powerful would be something good. Perhaps the Order’s influence was a lot stronger than what the Archons had assumed. Though he could ask for help in changing such perception, it is out of his power and field to be able to do such. That is a thought for another day, for today, he has to deal with finding a suitable middle ground of a contract with clients from another country.

Now, he could just change his top into something presentable and leave his bottoms as just his pajamas as it is through video call but he prefers to be presentable from head to toe. He’s seen enough slip ups from his peers to consider just changing top up.

Maybe if the weather eases up later in the day, he could give your shop a visit.

--------

You nearly jump out of your bed when Wooyoung bursts in, saying that it’s time to start the day. Who gave Wooyoung the right to make his yelling your alarm clock? You make a mental note to annoy him later on. First thing on the to-do list is to get out of bed which admittedly takes longer than expected.

Once you leave your room, you’re greeted by the smell of something cooking. In this friendship, Wooyoung’s in charge of cooking, while you were in charge of baking. Heavens forbid that the two of you don’t eat well. He was also in charge of you staying physically active thanks to his antics. While you had the Cryo vision, he had Electro. Any ‘static’ that you feel from him was admittedly him just wanting to annoy you.

“How are you so awake this early?” It’s 7AM. You open your shop at 10AM. He on the other hand, his work starts at 2PM today and ends at midnight. If anything, you should be the early bird, while he is the night owl.

“Because between the two of us, i’m easier to wake up. Now go eat before it gets cold!” He chides you gently as he continues to wash up the pans. You glance at the meal set on the table, he made all of these? All these side dishes and meat?

“What time did you wake up?”

“5:30?”

“Jung Wooyoung, what the-- I could’ve just grabbed something from the lady down the street.” You could also make yourself a cup of coffee in your own shop, it’s your own money anyways.

“Relax! I can catch up on sleep before my work starts and mind you, it’s raining so it’s better to get to your shop and be able to dry up before any customer enters. Don’t forget, I packed you some lunch because we all know you’d forget to grab food on the way”

At the mention of rain, you notice the downpour outside. That probably explains the humidity lately. Time for a change of plans on what to wear today, at least your boots could take on the rain and still make you look good. Your bottom lip juts out as you watch the rain but you decide to change your attention to the food in front of you. Heavens forbid that you don’t eat what Wooyoung makes for you, otherwise you would go back to take out and instant food for a good week. Once finished, you’re about to wash the dishes when Wooyoung shoos you off. “Go, you know how the station can be with this weather.” You don’t force it, so you leave your plate by the sink and go and get ready.

--------

You arrive outside your shop, unlocking the door while balancing the umbrella on your shoulder. Once you were inside, you let out a sigh of relief. The dry air inside provides you comfort from the humidity outside. The rain isn’t as hard as it was in the morning but it was still a challenge to walk through people who were damp from the downpour. With the current weather, you didn’t need to water your plants too much so that’s one thing off the list.

You get started on cleaning and setting everything up for the day. Now you weren’t sure if you’d get more customers today but it was better to be safe than sorry. Not long after you cleaned up the place, someone enters the shop. “Hello and welcome!” You greet them warmly from behind the counter. The first thing you notice is his sharp feline features, softened only by his curiosity for the pastries on display. You watch him carefully, wondering if he’ll stay and order something or leave shortly. After all, it is a little too early for sweets, though if that was what he prefers then you shall provide. The mysterious man leans a little closer to the display rack, eyeing the various treats you’re selling. You note the odd streaks of white on his slicked hair, surely this place has their own share of memorable fashion. Maybe in the future you could do something similar to your own hair, you’ve been wanting some sort of a change after all.

“How much for the smallest cake?”

There were various voices that you expected to come out of his mouth, his gentle manner of speaking was not one of them. You look at the cake he’s pointing at. Guess he has an eye for the finer things. “Twelve thousand won, sir..” You return a little flustered by his mannerism.

“Can I ask what’s in it?”

You stand up a little straighter, hoping to make your first sale for the day. “Dark chocolate and milk. There’s dark chocolate mousse in between the layers as well.” To be honest, this is your favorite creation, not too bitter, not too sweet, still perfectly smooth in your mouth. Well, it wasn’t easy to get all the ingredients for it either. He straightens up and looks at his watch. As he looks at the time, you take note of what he’s wearing: are there really people that have expensive taste that live in this side of the city? His bomber jacket alone looks more expensive that your entire outfit. There’s something about how he carries himself that tells you to stay on his good side, no matter how pleasant he presents himself to you.

“I’ll come back later today to buy it.” He states and a small part of you deflates. You don’t want to hope too much on his words, people often do choose niceties rather than honesty. His tone leaves no room for you to guess if it was politeness or a genuine promise so you just nod.

“We’re open until 10 PM, Sir.” You inform him. A part of you doesn’t believe his words but for the sake of making money, you let him know.

“I promise, I’ll come back later.” He eyes your display again, as if trying not to forget your products then at your face. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t recognize but you let it be. Being a regular folk makes everyone look the same but once you’re out here selling things, you end up noticing all the small details. Maybe it’s just in the first few days.

His effort to reassure you makes you chuckle softly. Maybe he does mean it, with that you nod. “I’ll take your word for it, Sir. Have a nice day.” You can only assume that he flashes a smile from how his eyes curve as he bids you goodbye. When he turns his back to you is when you see a teal orb hanging on his waist. Another Vision holder. Maybe you should take the chance to explore the area one of these days. It’s been a while since you met other Vision holders besides Wooyoung and some of his fellow dancers.

It’s the silence that follows once he leaves that makes you wish you had some sort of pet or companion in this shop. But that will be a thought for another day, for now, you busy yourself with your own phone. You couldn’t really message Wooyoung at this hour anymore, you know he’s back in bed catching up on sleep before his shift. Hours pass and you end up busying yourself with a book you found online. It becomes a deep dive at that point, the only time you had to put your phone down is when a customer comes in for a drink and even then making their orders doesn’t take too long.

Your reading takes you to worlds past; how people preserved their memories beyond just the word of mouth and writings. The art that accompanied their memories was a reason as to why certain practices are still being done until present. Through faded colors, the preservations to keep them still visible and intact have brought you to beyond just the materials and methods of the past. It has brought you to the vivid awareness of a working society that had dwindled down then revived to become the society you now live in.

By the time you snap yourself back to reality, it’s already 3PM. You forgot to eat your lunch. You look outside and the streets weren’t that cramped yet. It won’t be until two hours later when rush hour begins. Wooyoung was right once more, you decided to just eat towards the back. Making sure that people still know that there’s someone inside the shop while still having the comfort of privacy to eat.

The windchimes ring again, making you cover your food immediately and rush over to the counter. “Hello and welcome!” You say, out of habit.

“Hello again!” The same guy from earlier has returned. This time with Yeosang. It takes a moment for you to get over your surprise, not expecting the two of them to know each other. Really, what were the odds?

Yeosang too looks at you with wide eyes, piercing and unmoving, but it’s the soft curve of his lips that dampens the intensity of his gaze. Only you were not aware of the turmoil inside the other’s body. San was all too aware of it but he says nothing.

“Hello! Have you decided what to buy?” You ask, tone carrying careful gentleness as you try to keep your gaze on the man with the white streak.

“Yup! The dark chocolate cake from earlier and two vanilla tea lattes please!” You didn’t really expect this sharp eyed man to carry such a bright tone in his voice.

You take the chance to glance over at Yeosang. He clearly looked a little embarrassed to be trapped in his peer’s hold. A small smile warms your features, a little amused to see someone who gave you the impression of being so composed turn a little red. “Sure thing, that’s 16,000 won.” You state, ringing up their orders. “To go or dine in?”

“Would dine in be fine?” Yeosang’s friend asks.

“Perfectly fine.”

“Then dine in please.”

You direct them to sit anywhere as they wait for their orders. The two leave you to it, and once you are out of earshot Yeosang breathes out in relief. “Choi San, you are blessed that I can’t throw you out to sea right now.” He hisses, though without any malice.

“I can see why you’re affected though, heh.” San snickers, his eyes flickering towards your general direction. He’s unfazed by Yeosang’s eyes glowing into an intense blue. It’s an empty threat, they’ve been through worse and a human reminding them of a dear presence won’t hurt him. “They do have similar energies, and an affinity for plants.” San notes, gesturing to the presence of flowers in your shop. “Especially that one in particular.” He adds. Should he feel alarmed?

You quickly serve their orders, leaving them alone as you try to finish your meal quickly before the smell disturbs them. It’s not too long until you finish your meal, a major factor being that you weren’t reading as you ate.

You stay behind the counter for the rest of their stay, making sure to stay out of their earshot,as you continue your reading to pass the time as it is only them who have decided to stay in your shop.

“So you’re saying, the human behind the counter, reminds you of them?”

Yeosang sighs at the inquiry, he should’ve expected the disbelief. It’s been thousands of years since his lover had made their return to this world since their passing. The edge of the cup grazes the bottom of Yeosang’s lips as he thinks. “Yes, I don’t quite understand why or how, but if my nightmares have returned then that must be something.” Truly, when it comes to his dear lover, his logic tends to be thrown out the window. Not entirely, at least. At the mention of night terrors, his companion raises an eyebrow in surprise. “San, take my word at least at the mere fact that my night terrors have returned.”

San’s features fall slightly at Yeosang’s unwillingness to discuss his nightmares. It’s a reasonable move, they can never tell when the walls listen. “Can we at least talk about this at your place? I remember you clearly choosing that building for their refusal to be affiliated with any organization.”

“Very well. Once we have finished our meal here, we can return.”

It’s not until you hear his friend thank you for the food and coffee for the second time that you realize you’ve been in too deep into the reading material. The sight of you trying to regain your surroundings as you blink away the words swimming about in your vision makes Yeosang’s friend chuckle lightly. Yeosang on the other hand eyes you closely.

“San, can you wait for me outside? I won’t take too long.”

So that’s his name. You glance at the male who shoots you a bright smile as he leaves the premises, he eventually stays near the door. Once he’s out of ear shot, Yeosang clears his throat to get your attention again.

“Are you alright? You seem rather dazed. '' Yeosang asks. There’s something in his tone that you couldn’t quite tell if it was concern or not.

Dazed might be an understatement. “Yes I’m fine, I just got too into what I was reading..” You explain a little shyly as you try to regain your bearings. You can still see some words in your vision, it takes a few more blinking for them to melt from your sight.

He smiles a little at your reaction. “If it’s not too much to ask, what were you reading about? Surely, it must have been an interesting topic?”

You glance at your phone, unsure of how to describe what you had been reading. “It was uh, art history.” This piques his interest, something in his eyes sparkles and it takes a bit of your self control to not chuckle at the obvious enthusiasm.

“Is that so? Perhaps I can take some of your time in the future so that we can talk about art?”

Was he asking you out? You stare at him in disbelief. The question is still trying to sink in.

If you weren’t who he thinks you are, a friend would be good enough for him.

“Of course, if you aren’t interested I won’t take any offense in it.” He follows up upon your silence. He worries if he was a little too forward with such a question.

“No!” You speak up, surprised by the force in your own voice. “I mean, no… as in, no it’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just, I don’t know you besides your name.”

You have every right to be wary, he thinks. The current era has birthed plenty of amorality. Even if one seemed harmless, it might be too late when the realization of its true power sets in. His hand comes up to his chin in thought. He genuinely wants your trust, besides his earnest wish of you being his past lover, your interest in something he likes could lead to the two of you being friends. “Would it be alright if I become a regular in your shop though?”

The question takes you by surprise because in usual circumstances, the customer becoming a regular is a gradual unspoken promise. Maybe it was for your own safety too as his initial question could be understood with some malice. Something in you tells you that you’re safe with him. At that thought, you smile warmly. “I wouldn’t mind. It will take a while before I memorize your order though.” Also, you needed to make money.

“Good things take time.”

His words make you laugh lightly. “You should get going, your friend has been waiting for you for quite some time now.” You remind him gently as you tip your head at San’s general direction. He’s already pouting, clearly impatient.

Yeosang’s cheeks glow in embarrassment for letting his friend wait. “Very well, I’ll see you tomorrow then…?” He trails off, unsure of how to address you. You catch on to the gap and offer him a nickname.

Yeosang repeats after you thoughtfully, and his eyes warm up when he fixes his gaze to you. “I shall get going then.”

You watch him leave the shop, greeted by a relieved San by the doorway. The two of them bid you goodbye, and you watch them walk off until you couldn’t see them anymore.

What an odd day, you thought to yourself. At least you had something to look forward to each day now.

---------

“What do you think?” San asks by the door of his apartment.

“It may or may not be them.” Yeosang admits. They were always a sensitive topic for him. “Regardless, should it not be them, a human friend might do me some good in this worn world.”

His wording reminds San of his other plan and it makes his heart drop slightly. “You’re really considering it?”

A heavy sigh slips from Yeosang’s lips but he nods. “I’m far too old, San. Someone needs to take over soon as much as I would like it to be you, you have your own responsibilities in this world that only you can fulfill.”

The conversation takes a heavy turn that San wasn’t ready for that he had it turn back to you. “Did you ever get their name? What did you talk about?”

Yeosang updates the male in your lengthy conversation. San notices the small smile on his friend’s features. “...By tomorrow, I’ll be back in their shop, roughly the same time.”

“Yeosang, the both of us know that it isn’t roughly the same time, you’ll be there on the dot. What’s going to happen if you get tired of the same drink huh?”

“I will try their other products.”

“You’re going to spend so much money over them, Yeosang.”

“If it means building a genuine connection then it’s a small price to pay.”

--------

It becomes a thing that you wait for everyday now; him coming by your coffee shop at this exact time everyday. Every 5PM you start to await his arrival. At this point, you already know his order by heart: vanilla tea latte with two pieces of dark chocolate macarons. Sometimes, if the two of you were lucky, he stays with you beyond closing time and by then, you could offer to taste test some of your possible new products.

Today is a lucky day for the two of you. It’s nearing closing time and you’ve told some of your customers that you would be closing up soon, to give them enough time to wrap up and go. Enough time as well for you to clean up everything and if time permits, for Yeosang to taste test some of your creations. You walk up to Yeosang’s table. “Excuse me, Sir? We’re closing in an hour.” You state as professionally friendly as you can-- if that was even possible.

The male looks up from his book to be greeted by your features and your weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. He slips the bookmark in between his reading, and from your view point, it looked like a reading on a certain era of history. You don’t get enough time to look at it better as he closes the book gently. “Shall I leave the premises, dear?” He entertains you for a moment, flashing a soft smile once you chuckle softly at his efforts.

“You can, but that would also mean you won’t be able to taste something I’ve been trying out lately.” Something in his eyes flashes with curiosity and excitement. It honestly reminds you of a cat that’s staring at their favorite toy.

“Then I shall stay and keep you company.” He returns. By now, the rest of the customers have left. You change the sign to only accepting take out orders for the last hour. “Do you need my assistance?” He offers, looking around the usually spotless place. There were some used plates along with a few mugs that should be washed on some tables, along with the trash. He wonders how you manage to do all of this by yourself. When he approaches the counter, he sees you already cleaning the coffee machines first. He calls your nickname again, and this time you manage to shift your attention to the male standing by the counter.

“Yes?”

“Would you like some assistance?” He reiterates, waiting for your response.

You look around the place and you spot the used plates and mugs. “Can you get those for me,please? Just put them by the sink. I’ll wash them.” As soon as he nods and gets to work, you busy yourself again with the coffee machines, making sure everything was spotless before getting yourself to wash everything. It takes a few trips from the man himself to get everything stacked neatly near the sink.

“Anything else, dear?”

At this point, you’ve gotten used to Yeosang calling you dear. There was a certain sweetness to how he calls your nickname as well, reminding you of hot tea sweetened slightly by honey. “Just keep me company, and tell me about your day.” You return, pulling him a seat as you start to wash everything.

He accepts your offer, sitting down across you as he tells you about his day. For him, it was not anything extraordinary: meetings within the morning, visitations within the afternoon, up until the time of him being able to spend the last few hours of the day here with you. But you didn’t let him off that easy, you wanted to know more about this man who decided to befriend you. He entertains your questions with ease.

“So you’re telling me, you’re part of a board of directors of a museum?” You’ve always wanted to work in one but life had other plans for you. You were thankful your coffee shop was picking up with the people that you were slowly having more than enough money to keep you and Wooyoung above water. Maybe when you manage to make more money, you could buy some simple art works to hang around your shop.

“That is correct. Are you interested in them?” He asks, head tilting to the side as he watches you dry all the plates and mugs before keeping them. While you busy yourself with keeping everything in order, he picks up his book. His fingers fly across the pages, looking for something.

“I am.” You turn on your heels, drying your hands before pulling a small cake out of the refrigerator. “Always loved going to museums when I had the time. Anything related to art and its history, I loved it.”

He sees the small container, wondering if this is the cake you wanted him to try. “Is this the one you want me to try?” His inquiry is affirmed by your nod.

“I tried a little something with this one, lavender and blueberry cake. It’s not really something you hear or see on the usual…” You had to admit it was a risk, too much lavender and it risks being potpourri. For you, the amount you put into creating this was just right, but you had to get a third opinion as well. You weren’t selling food for your own taste after all. You ready a glass of water as well, should Yeosang need to wash out any undesired taste. Yeosang’s eyes don’t seem to have any apprehension to your cake. True, it looks a little plain but he does understand the need to not waste on design when the material itself still isn’t of the desired outcome. He takes a small bite out of your cake, just as curious as you are, and if anything he trusts your skills that it wouldn’t be a poor result.

All of a sudden, his eyes light up and he raises a thumbs up to your cake. “This is actually lovely. Lavender’s subtle, the blueberry adds the sweetness and the cake isn’t too dense and moist. It’s lovely. Can I bring an additional slice home?” There’s a bit of icing that’s left on the corner of his mouth.

“Y-yeosang, you got a little bit of icing on your mouth..” You say, too focused on the pale purple cream. You watch him flounder about trying to rid of it with his finger, only to fail. At his failed attempts, you laugh softly. “Let me do it for you.” You grab a piece of tissue, and when you shift your attention to him, he’s finally wiped some of the cream off. It’s a bit endearing to see a man so well poised look rather lost and a little frustrated over something as small as icing. “Here.” You tip his chin up for him to stay put as you wipe it off successfully.

Yeosang feels his heart nearly jump out of his throat at the proximity, especially at your gaze. It’s only when you let go of his chin that he feels himself breathing again. From then on, he ate carefully and slowly. It’s not that he didn’t want that type of closeness.

While he finishes what’s left of the cake, you pack up the rest of the cake you had offered into a small box. “Keep the rest of it.” You state and Yeosang suddenly perks up in surprise at such offer. “I can recreate the cake anyways, I had Wooyoung taste the first half, so we still have some back home.” You explain.

Who was he to say no? So, he flashes you a smile, one filled with utmost thanks and gratitude. “Thank you, I’ll try to make sure that San gets a taste of this as well.” He returns.

He asks you where you live, not for personal wants but out of concern for your safety. It’s late into the night by the time the two of you left the shop and to walk on your own was surely a dangerous thing to do. From how you’ve spent your time with him, you don’t see any malice in his questions. You reassure him that you don’t go home on your own, rather you wait for Wooyoung outside the dance studio. “Would it be alright if I accompanied you to where this Wooyoung is?”

The walk to the studio has you telling him who Wooyoung is. A best friend who was practically like a brother to you since you could remember. You weren’t quite ready to tell him just yet as to how the two of you became so close. That was left for a better time. You do tell him that both of you are Vision carriers, just like he is, only Wooyoung had the electro vision, while you a cryo vision. “I honestly thought he would get the pyro vision knowing how much he loves to dance but I guess life had other plans for him.” You admit with a bashful laugh. You mention his vision in passing, not out of rudeness but out of curiosity. A hydro vision, you can imagine just how driven and eccentric this man could be.

He doesn’t correct your assumption on him. He did carry an orb like object on him, just dangling around his waist was a deep blue orb, almost as if it carries the water from the deepest parts of the ocean. He wonders how you got your vision, cryo carriers always had a story to tell that are usually not for the faint of heart. Yet, he understands that there are boundaries one must not cross.

He climbs up the stairs with you, until he’s assured that you will be safe for the time being. “Stay safe on the way home.” He says, readying himself to leave once the studio’s staff have recognized you.

“How will I know if you’re safe as well?” You ask, pouting a little at the man you’ve come to appreciate. That was a good question, he paused for a moment, thinking of how he would be able to inform you of his safety. Your eyes brighten at an idea. “I can give you my number?” You offer.

It was a good thing the offer came from you because should it come from him and the altercations that carries would be too much to bear. He hands you his phone, somehow you weren’t surprised with the model. If he looked like he can buy the entire building your coffee shop stands on, the latest phone model would be nothing. Once you’re done putting in your number, he calls the number and true enough your phone rings. “Rest assured, I’ll be home safely.” He repeats. His gut wants to press a light kiss on your forehead but not now-- not in front of all these people, not when the two of you are still warming up. With that in thought, he decides to pat your head lightly as his goodbye.

“Who is that?” The man asks after handling the identification process for the students. Your eyes flit to the dancers waiting by the door, they’re probably waiting for the last class of the day.

“Hm?” You ask a little confused by the question until it dawned on you that Yunho, a friend of Wooyoung, was referring to the stranger who accompanied you. “Oh! Yeosang…” You trail off, unsure of how to define what the two of you had just yet. “I guess, he’s my friend.” You say after a moment. That sounds right, yeah the two of you have grown closer over the past few weeks. It seems to be correct to call him a friend at least.

“A friend huh?” He repeats with a waggle of his eyebrows, just to tease you.

You roll your eyes, playfully threatening to punch his arm. “Yes he is! Don’t get funny ideas, Yunho or else I’m not bringing cookies anymore.” You say much to his horror. The sight of his features dropping into a pout makes you coo.

As you wait for Wooyoung’s class to end, you and Yunho catch up on what has happened. The studio seemed to carry more vision carriers than you expected. It made sense though, a dance studio harbors people with various reasons that had kept them pushing in this form of art. Yunho was one of them, a pyro vision carrier. One way or another, a vision carrier manages to know a fighting style or handle a weapon. For Yunho, it was a longsword. Truthfully, you never have seen him handle it but you know for sure he’d be graceful with it.

You tell Yunho of how you met Yeosang, and admittedly he was an interesting guy with eyes that were so strong when caught in a situation he didn’t expect. Yunho then trades a story of how the studio was going to stay open a little later than usual-- it seemed that a big name had rented the studio after their dance class. It’s a good thing that he was a bit of a nocturnal so he’s going to stay while the studio’s being used.

“How are you going to stay awake on your own?” You ask, aghast by the idea of staying up that late.

“No worries. We have coffee in the office so I can make myself a cup. Also Wooyoung gave us some of your white chocolate cookies that were scratch.” He admits with a toothy grin. You let him take the scratch, he pays for your goods whenever he has his cravings anyways.

“Just make sure that if you want a better version, you’ll pay.” You tease.

The conversation is cut short when the door opens and the students step out, clearly exhausted but happy with the class. Wooyoung is the last to exit, the other staff rushing in to quickly clean the room before the next class uses it. He’s just as sweaty and tired but the way his face lights up tells you otherwise. You thrust your hands out putting space between the two of you. “If you think of hugging me while you’re drenched in sweat, I will not share the leftovers from today.” You threaten and he whines in rebuttal.

“Is it the strawberry cake?”

“No..?”

“Okay, then come here.” He quickly returns beckoning you to come over to his arms. You quickly scoot away behind Yunho.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry..” You whine, pouting. Wooyoung looks at you in mild alarm at your statement.

“Did you forget to eat?!”

“I don’t like eating dinner without you, dumbass.” You admit as you follow him into the office, bidding Yunho a goodbye.

The words make Wooyoung coo this time, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “Just let me wash up real quick then we can eat here.”

You sit by the couch as you wait for him to return. As you get comfortable, albeit sleepy, your phone vibrates with a message from an unknown message.

[ ??? to You ] I’m back home safe now. :) -Yeosang

It’s Yeosang. The corners of your lips quirk upwards at the realization, while Wooyoung hasn’t returned you quickly type up a reply.

[ You to Yeosang ] That’s great! I hope you get a good night’s sleep ^^

You read his message once more and you feel a little bit of relief knowing that he’s safe.

Wooyoung comes out looking a little better than earlier. The towel draped over his shoulders. “Let’s eat dumdum.” He says, dragging his chair over to where you are with his meal.

The two of you share the happenings over the day. Wooyoung being surprised that Yeosang has walked you to the studio especially at this time. “Maybe I should meet him sometime.” He says. It’s not that he’s jealous, he’s been protective of you since day one. Anyone can take an interest to take advantage of anyone nowadays, he felt relief knowing that you had decided to wait for him instead of walking straight home with him.

“Yeosang-- ah what, Wooyoung! Wooyoung, you don’t have to do that..” You say, clearly confused as to why you had Yeosang’s name instead of Wooyoung’s in your head.

Wooyoung stares at you dumbfounded by the slip up. “Kid, just say if you’re heads over heels for him. Whatever, I’m keeping an eye on that guy.” You can’t blame his protective nature, until now no one really knows how the Order knew of your family’s whereabouts. Whatever their method was, it had to come from someone who was in close contact with your parents thus resulting in you being the only one still alive. You also know that Wooyoung’s incredibly stubborn so you give in. It was inevitable for anyone who knew you to know Wooyoung and vice versa, the two of you are a package deal. “So he comes to your shop every day? Same time?” He asks. You can already see the gears in his head moving.

“Wooyoung, if you scare him off, I swear--” You grumble through your food. It’s not that you didn’t like his protective manners, for once you felt a little happy to have a friend who wasn’t from his circle; someone you’ve met on your own. “Listen, I didn’t even tell Yeosang my real name yet for my safety too.”

That was something he didn’t expect, though a smart move, it was something he understood. Your words make him stop in thought. He still wants to meet him. “Fine but I still want to meet him because he’s someone who’s growing on you.”

You wonder how he didn’t get the geo vision, but you concede to his wishes. “He’s in the shop every 5PM onwards, always with a book.”

“You’re telling me this guy stays with you.. In the shop.. Until you close?”

His question makes you shoot him a look. “Did everything I tell you just exit out the other ear?”

“No, they’re all up in here. I just wanted to get the facts straight….” he trails off, pushing the chair back to where his workspace is to look at his schedule. “Alright, I don’t need to come in tomorrow,” Oh, dear. “Which means, I can meet this friend of yours to make sure he isn’t anyone shady.”

At his plan, you lean back on the couch. There really is no point in changing his mind. “Fine, let’s finish up and head home. The two of us need a shower.”

On the way home, you tell him as well that you were going to start selling the lavender cake by next month. “I still got half of the tester cake saved for you.”

He has a feeling you gave half of it to Yeosang but he spares you from his teasing. Wooyoung flashes an excited smile as the two of you walk out of the station. “Great, while I wait for you to finish showering, I’ll finish the cake.”

“Jung Wooyoung!”

part 2

#my writings #yeosang fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #yeosang scenario #idk what else to tag this as #yeosang x reader

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

Moving On (J.HS)

Warnings : a breakup.

Word Count : 793

Synopsis : after a breakup, she believes she’ll never move on. when hoseok walks into her flower shop, he sees the most beautiful girl he’s laid eyes on. and maybe, just maybe, she can move on.

I just don’t love you anymore. She had become a shell of a person since he said those words to her. Waking up in an empty bed, longing for his arms to be around her again. Longing to hear him say he loves her, to kiss her, to just look at her the way he used to. The way he now looks at his new girlfriend.

She still went all the places they used to go to, reliving all her favourite memories with the ghost of him. She would see all the other couples around, so in love, and her heart would break all over again. Her friends tried to get her out of the house, tried to get her back into the dating scene, but she can’t help but compare every guy to the man who once loved her.

When she does go out with her friends, everyone can see how different she is. She isn’t lively anymore. It’s almost as if she’s not even there, barely contributing to the conversations. They can’t even remember the last time they saw her smile or heard her laugh. She wishes he had treated her badly, or that she had done something to cause this breakup. Maybe then it would be easier to move on. But she was only left with good memories and a love that slowly died with no signs.

When he first left, she had waited. Waited for a text, a call, a sign that he realized he was still in love with her. She stopped waiting when she was walking down the path the two of them would walk and saw his hand holding someone else’s. Saw that he was smiling and laughing with someone else, and he was happy. That’s when it set in for her that it was over. He didn’t love her anymore, but she was still so in love with him. It wasn’t fair.

It was Mother’s Day when someone set eyes on her and saw the most beautiful woman he’s seen. He had walked into the flower shop she owned, looking for a bouquet perfect enough to give his mother, and there she was, humming along to the music playing overhead and arranging a new bouquet. For him, it was like time had stopped momentarily. For her, it was just another day.

“How can I help you?” She smiled, turning to face the new customer completely. He couldn’t seem to find the words as he stared at the beauty in front of him. “Looking for something for Mother’s Day?” She asked after some time. All he could do was nod, and she giggled. If her friends were around, they’d be ecstatic to hear the sound. Hoseok wished he could hear it again.

She took him around, showing him some different bouquets, explaining their meaning, and asking if any of them caught his eye. “What would you recommend?” He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back at him. She found herself thinking that he has the most beautiful smile, and she could watch him smile for hours.

“This one.” She handed him a beautiful bouquet with a small smile on her face. He nodded, telling her to ring him up. They exchanged some small talk as she rang him up, and she actually found herself smiling during the conversation, wishing it didn’t have to end.

When her friend came to pick her up for dinner that evening, she noticed a difference in her friend. A good difference. She looked happier, looked more like herself. She smiled as she said she just had to finish a couple things before closing up. “I love seeing your smile.” Her friend commented, watching in awe at the sight before her.

Hoseok returned a couple days later, wanting to see the beautiful girl that worked at the flower shop. The bell dinged as he opened the door, and she found herself smiling immediately at him. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” He echoed, trying to gain the confidence to ask the question he came here to ask.

“What can I do for you?” Her attention was solely on him, the flower arrangements she was working on no longer interesting. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this.

“I was actually hoping I could get your number.” Her stomach flipped. She wanted to say no, say she wasn’t interested. But the words got stuck in her throat and she reached for a pen and paper to write her number down, as if her body was acting on its own. “Thank you. I’ll uh … I’ll text you.” She couldn’t help but giggle as he stumbled over his words and made his way out the door. Maybe she too could move on.

#moving on #bts #bts imagine #jung hoseok #jung hoseok imagine #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do. (Spencer x Reader)

Chapter 1

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 2

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: regular CM crime stuff. brief mentions of previous assault. vomit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N Thanks for the love on the Prologue, message to be added to taglist. much love Cia

Chapter 1: However scary

You start to follow Hotch outside his office, barely containing the smile on your face. You couldn’t help it, the job you’ve been dreaming about for a decade was yours now. As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice the short Italian man exiting his.

“Rossi?” You smiled. The man in question turned and grinned upon seeing you.

“Bella!” He opened his arms to hug you which you automatically accepted.

“I thought you retired, old man.”

Rossi scoffed. “You know me, can’t stay away for long.” Hotch stepped up, joining you guys. “So am I correct in assuming you’ve taken the job?” Rossi asks.

“You would be correct.” You smile. “And now, since I have a big girl job and can take care of myself. I’m hoping those mysterious money drops into my bank account will stop.” You gave him a knowing look. Though you and Rossi were not as close as you and Hotch, you still revered him as a father figure as much as he did you a daughter.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says holding up his hands.

“Sure you don’t, old man.” You laughed. “How’s… Krystal?” You say trying to remember which wife Rossi was on now.

“Divorced.” Rossi smirks.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Dave. I thought 3 would be the lucky number.”

“So did I.” Rossi smiled. “How’s Persephone?” David smiles widely at the mention of your adoptive mother's name.

“Still not interested in becoming number 4.” You laughed, inducing a boisterous laugh from Dave and a small chuckle from Hotch. “She’s currently backpacking through India and building eco houses along the way.”

“Sounds like Persephone.” David smiles. You guys continue to catch up for a couple of more minutes not noticing the team staring up at you from the bullpen.

“Do you guys know who she is?” Emily asks

“No but Rossi and Hotch know her by the looks of it.” Derek replies.

“I met her in the elevator.” Spencer speaks up. “Her name’s Y/N.”

“Wonder what she's doing here.” Derek says as Penelope walks up with a tin of her famous cookies that Spencer is already reaching for. She pulls back so it’s out of reach from his perch on his desk.

“Well, if she took the job then that is your newest team member.” Penelope smiled. “Hotch asked me to do a background check last week so I assume he’s hiring her. Which means these cookies are for her.” She says pulling even more back as Spencer continues to make grabby hands at the tin.

“Why does she get cookies her first day? I didn’t get any on my first day.” Spencer points out, not caring how much he sounds like a child.

“I’m not really allowed to talk about it, but let’s just say I think she could really use the kindness.”

“What did you find out about her, Baby girl?” Derek asked.

Penelope frowns slightly, she never liked keeping secrets, especially from the team. “I’m really not allowed to say, but what I can tell you is that she’s smart, like really smart. Maybe not Reid’s level but smart enough to make dean's list at an Ivy League every year.”

“Which school?” Spencer asks.

“Stanford.”

Spencer nods. That would make her pretty smart, that or just good at school. As he’s exiting his thoughts, JJ walks past them, throwing a “We have a case.” Over her shoulder before heading to Rossi, Hotch and the new girl.

We all begin filing into the conference room, Rossi, Hotch and Y/N walking in last. Hotch clears his throat. “This is Agent Y/L/N.” He says gesturing at you. “She will be joining us this case. I’m sure you guys will get around to formal introductions later.” Hotch says before taking a seat nodding at JJ to start. You hold up your hand in a small wave before taking a seat next to Hotch. Everyone else regards you with a small nod except a brightly dressed blonde woman who excitedly waves back at you.

“We’re heading to Nashville.” A blonde woman, you assume, is JJ says pulling up images of victims on the screen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, you were used to crime scene photos, you studied several in the FBI academy but kids would always get to you. “3 boys ages 10-13 all have gone missing on their way home from school, all found 5 days later buried arms across chest, heads shaved.”

“Signs of remorse are obviously there but the hair...is something different.” A dark haired woman pointed out.

“Could be trichophilia.” You pointed out. Everyone looked at you, you cleared your throat under the scrutiny. “Trichophilia. It’s the fetishzation of hair.” You provide. Everyone nods and JJ continues to provide information on the case before Hotch announces wheels up in 30. You go to grab your files and notebook when the brightly dressed blonde woman ambushes you a tin fully extended to you.

“Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia, and these are for you!” practically shoving the tin into your hands.

“Thank you, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, you weren’t really a sweets person but you weren’t going to turn down the kindness. A brown skinned man and the dark haired woman from before walked up to you both.

“I’m Emily Prentiss, this is Derek Morgan” she says both holding their hands out for you to shake. You shuffle the cookies and files into one arm to shake hands with them.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You say back.

“So you seemed to already know Hotch?” Derek pointed out.

You had been prepared for someone to ask about that so you rattled off your prepared speech. “Yes, Hotch is a family friend.” That seemed like the easiest way to explain your relationship.

“So that’s how you were able to steamroll in here, huh? Friends with the boss?” The man laughs.

“No, I think it might’ve been one of my several degrees, merits or letters of recommendation, one of which from the director himself.” You point out. “Though I suppose knowing Aaron didn’t necessarily hurt things.”

Derek holds up his hands in surrender. “That could be true too. I guess we’ll see out on the field.” He says before him and Prentiss walk out.

You sigh heavily and start heading out the same way before a small voice pipes up behind you.

“They’ll come around.”

You turn your eyes onto the man you had met in the elevator before. “Sorry?”

“Morgan and Prentiss. They’ll come around, they acted like that towards me when I first started too. It’s-uh because you’re young.”

You nodded. He had a point and so did Morgan in a sense. You were very young, seemingly too young to be starting in a field like this. You knew it’d be hard to believe Hotch didn’t pull some strings for you.

“I knew my age would probably raise some questions. But I worked really hard, and it sucks I have to prove myself 10x over just because of my age.”

“I understand.” He says, following you out of the conference room.

“I felt like you would. You introduced yourself as Dr. Reid before but we look around the same age.”

“Yes, I hold 3 doctorates.”

“Three?!” You said incredulously. “What were you like, eleven starting college?”

“12, actually.” He smiles. He has a nice smile, instantly crosses your brain. You dash that thought immediately.

“That would have to make you some sort of genius.”

“I believe there’s not quantifiable way to measure intelligence but I suppose by societal standards, I am. I have an IQ of 187.”

You let out a deep whistle. “And here I thought I’d be the smart one.” You laugh.

He fumbles a bit over his words. “I-I mean you still could be. L-Like I said, there’s no way to accurately measure intelligence.”

You laugh before rounding your new desk grabbing your go bag underneath it. “Thanks for the vote of confidence but we both know that’s not true.” You smile before turning to head towards the jet.

——————————————————

You and the team had been in Madison county for 4 days now and you were hitting a wall. The day you arrived there had been a 4th body found, same cause of death, same shaved head only this time the word HELP was carved into the boy’s back. You knew this was a part of the job, going to crime scenes and having to see bodies but you couldn’t stop the thoughts. His hands were on your neck again, his knife grazing your sides. You felt the bile rise up.

“Pull over.” You all but scream to Morgan he nods, zipping the car to the side of the road. You instantly hop out and release your lunch.

Morgan steps out and pats your back. “It’s alright, kid. First one’s never easy. Especially when it’s children.”

He thinks you’re sick from the crime scene You think. That’s probably for the best.

“Thanks.” You mumble. He nods as you guys wordlessly walk back to the SUV.

Since then you’ve been at the police station working on the geographical profile with Spencer. You know Morgan had probably said something to Hotch about your upchuck and that was why you were stuck here. But still, you couldn’t think to complain. Spencer was incredibly smart and great to work with.

“There’s something we’re missing.” He says off handedly. You nod agreeing. You take in the circle like pattern the unsub seemed to be going in. It didn’t make sense. You had profiled him as a socially awkward loner with an overbearing parent. He wasn’t good with adults but could somehow get kids to trust him. Enough to get into the car with him late at night. It hit you a second later.

“Oh my god.” You said scrambling for your phone to call Garcia. Spencer looks over at you, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’ve reached your high priestess.” You hear Penelope’s voice come through the speaker.

“Hey Garcia, it’s Y/N.” You say. “Can you tell me what business is near the first dump site? I have an idea.”

You hear the faint sound of clacking as she finds the information for you. “Looks to be a bus lot.” You fought the urge to pump your fist in the air. You were right.

“Alright Garcia. I need a background check on all school bus drivers in Madison county, cross check it with anything that would fit the profile so minor stalking charges, assault…” you train off. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You ask.

“If I get started now, a couple hours.” She says. “Penelope out.” She says, hanging up.

You look up to see Spencer looking right back at you. “A bus driver.” You say smiling. “Think about it, everyday you ride the bus home from school and play outside with your friends until late. And when you're heading home your bus driver approaches you in his car offering to take you back. You have no reason not to trust him because he’s brought you home safely so many times before.” You explain, a brief frown grazing your lips. These children met an untimely demise all for trusting someone they were supposed to trust.

Spencer nods, taking in your words. “Good work,” he says. “You figured it out.”

You flushed under the high praise. “I’m sure you would’ve come to the same conclusion given more time.” You say.

“But I didn’t.” He says. “You did, and you probably saved another kid's life in the meantime.” He smiled and patted your shoulder before turning back to the board.

You looked at his back for a while. You knew since you stepped on the elevator that first time you were attracted to Spencer Reid. He was tall with a lean build and a nice set jaw and incredibly smart. You’d be lying to yourself if that wasn’t your exact type. But on top of all that, he was nice. Almost sickeningly so.

Suddenly you felt a lot more at risk than before.

————————————————

William Davison was arrested September 7th. You were right, he was a bus driver for Madison county. Police caught him in his car full of things that pointed him directly to the abductions.

You and the team were now back on the jet heading home. While the rest team was playing cards you opted to sit in the back. Textbooks laid out on the table as you tried to take notes from them. You were so engrossed. You didn’t see Spencer come take the seat in front of you.

“What’re you studying?” He asked.

You look up. “Uh, I’m in my doctoral program for psychology right now.” You say. “Right now, I’m working on an essay about nature vs. nurture effects on the killer's mind.”

“And what is your theory?” He asks.

“That while I do believe nurture plays a role somewhat, if someone has a predisposition to kill, hurt or maim that is something they are born with. Primates and to some effects humans are naturally empathetic creatures so I think people with the desire for violence are defects. Now even though that’s the case it’s still your own conscious decision to kill.” You say pausing. “Some people are born with natural predispositions they don’t follow all the time. Like your hands for instance.”

“What about my hands?” He inquired.

You swallow, clearing your throat. “Well you have fairly large hands, with l-long fingers.” You stutter. Nice going, Y/N. You think. Way to tell the guy you’re starting to develop a crush on that you’ve been staring at his hands. “In the primitive stage, that would’ve made you good at hunting and gathering. In a more modern sense, you’d be good at piano. Though I imagine, you don’t do either.” You say, already knowing the answer. You were a profiler now after all.

“No, I do not.” He smiled widely at you, he always appreciated intelligent conversation when it came by. “I disagree with your theory though.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You question. He begins to go on a long winded explanation why he thinks Nature vs. Nurture is outdated, taking several detours to talk about some other theories he’s found interesting. You watch him intensely taking in the words. You try to pay attention, you really do. But your eyes keep going back to the mouth the rapid words are coming out of and the hands that are also gesturing widely. You just had tuned back in when he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he says, looking mildly uncomfortable. “It’s just… no one lets me talk for this long.”

“Really?” You question, he nods. “Well, I was listening, I find it interesting. Actually…” you trail off picking up your pen, flipping to a new page in your notebook. “Do you mind if I write some of this down, might come in handy when I write my paper later.”

He nods enthusiastically as he continues his thoughts from before. You start writing fast now to keep up, interjecting here and there to ask him to expand on some stuff. Eventually the rest of the team drifts off until it's only the sound of his soft voice and the scratch of your pen filling the plane.

Taglist: @haylaansmi

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut

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omniswords · 3 years

Text

chronicles of a parisian dumbass 19

i’m sorry i’ve been MIA ; ; i’ve been up to my ears in streaming and also returning to work in-person. either way, i hope you enjoy this update of chronicles. better late than never right?

strap in 💙💖

If Luka could get at his phone, he wouldn’t know what to type. maybe a vague, oh, fuck. Maybe some long thread about how cryptic conversation starters only ever scared him and ended both of his relationships—only to follow up with silence in the face of a couple of likes, or a reply from a sort-of-stranger that would debilitate him, remind him of his own vulnerability, more than it would reassure him. Hell, maybe even a message to Bubbles about how he was right all along that he’d need the luck. Or how Bubbles was right about how he really was in for it the moment he stepped into the bakery.

It’s just that, with the way Marinette Dupain-Cheng is looking at him on her balcony—all sad, scared softness—he gets the feeling that he’s not meant to repeat whatever she tells him.

Luka steels himself, loosens his death grip on the neck of the guitar, and releases a breath he doesn’t want to hold onto anymore. “Yeah,” he says. “Anything.” It comes out choked from how tight his vocal cords are. The way they get sometimes when he plugs in the microphone and hits RECORD.

She pats the floor in front of her and mumbles something about being on equal ground, and he slides down to meet her, guitar in tow. She looks like she wants to touch it, feel now real it is. Or how real he is. As though that moment with his card wasn’t enough.

“It’s about your sister,” she says, her gaze darting away in shame. “And Adrien. Sort of.”

“Okay,” he says. It’s slow, and uncertain, but he hopes it tells her he’s all ears.

Marinette looks at her lap and draws herself up and in. Like she’s wanted to tell him this for a long time. Like she’s only just found the words for it. “We were pretty close,” she says. “In grade school. Not as close as… Rose, yeah, Rose. But we were in the same class for a couple years. I helped her with some class picture stuff, she listened to me yammer on about Adrien after he joined our class… even helped me come up with some ideas on how to… confess to him? Win him over? I don’t know.” She rubs the back of her neck. “Actually, I think all my girl friends did that.”

Luka nods slowly, thinks of the school photos in the album Juleka bought from the thrift shop, tries to match faces in his head. He thinks he sees pigtails. Or maybe a bun. He could be wrong. “So,” he says, “you had it pretty bad for him, huh.”

“I dunno if I had it bad. Like I said, puppy love. I mean, I thought we were soulmates—God, I even named our kids—and I couldn’t even get out a sentence in front of him. I didn’t even like him at first. Plus, we were like, fourteen. I didn’t know any better.”

He shrugs. “Just cause you were fourteen doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” He thinks he catches a blush stealing across Marinette’s face then, but maybe it’s just a trick of the lights. “So… what changed?”

“With Juleka? Or Adrien?”

“Both, I guess.”

Marinette turns her head away. “It’s dumb.”

Luka shrugs again, smiling faintly. “So?”

She starts to pick at her nails, like her hands are just looking for something to do. Without thinking, he gives the spinner ring on his index finger a flick to get her attention, then slides it off and hands it to her. She looks at it with questions in her eyes, then slips it on. It barely fits her index finger, and it wobbles when she gives it a curious flick of her own. It seems to get the job done, at least. “He lent me his umbrella,” she mumbles, final but sheepish. Then she follows up, before his brow can so much as furrow, “He was friends with an old bully of mine—Mrs. Bourgeois’s daughter, actually—and I caught him doing something with some gum on my chair. And I… misjudged him. “Another flick. “He was trying to make it up to me. And he said… he didn’t have any friends. He hadn’t even been to school.”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “Rich kids, huh?” And then, at the first sign of her discomfort, “Sorry, I—”

“No,” she says. “It’s okay, I was just thinking…” She presses her thumb into the curve and the aged grooves of the ring more than she actually spins it. Like she cares about losing it more than she cares about comforting herself. “I think everything around me told me that… that was how I was supposed to feel. Unwavering love. Now it’s been years, and I think… I think I just wanted to be that friend for him. I just wanted to be what he was looking for.”

Luka lifts his gaze from the ring to her face. “Who says that’s not love?” He doesn’t know where the words come from. They just feel like the right ones to say.

Marinette freezes, blinking at her hands. She doesn’t say anything; the only sound is the whine of his ring as the metal scrapes together with another flick.

When the silence goes on a bit too long for either of their liking, Luka clears his throat uncertainly. “So, um…”

She speaks so he doesn’t have to. “Juleka,” she murmurs. “Right, um…” It’s hard to tell who’s more uncomfortable between the two of them. Who's really supposed to say what next. “Well, I mean… you can sort of imagine that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to… y’know. Be with Adrien.”

Luka doesn’t have to imagine, but he nods anyway.

“Not”— Marinette hedges—“not that Juleka was competition or anything. I mean, duh. Just… there was this other girl—there were other girls, and…”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” he urges. “If it still hurts.”

She closes her eyes. Hard, and just for a moment. “Please let me tell you this.”

Her voice wavers. That’s all the cue Luka needs to stay quiet. To let her say everything, or nothing, at her pace.

“Her name was Lila,” she says. “She was a new girl. From Italy. Everyone liked her, except… she lied. Like, compulsively. About connections she had, places she’d been, charity work she did. And she did it because she wanted everyone to like her. She was just telling people what they wanted to hear because the attention made her feel important. She thrived on it.” She gets to her feet. “Sorry, I can’t sit still when I get all… agitated. You know?”

Luka gestures vaguely at the balcony space. “That makes two of us.”

Marinette takes that as her cue to start pacing and turning on her heels, only pausing every so often to stare up at the night sky. “I was jealous,” she admits. “I was also our class representative. And I might’ve… used that to my advantage.”

Maybe he shouldn’t say Hell yeah out loud, but he’s definitely thinking it.

“I kept tabs on people’s schedules, you know?” she says. “So we could work on important events and class projects and stuff. There was one we were planning for Adrien, to celebrate that he’d been in school with us for a year and all. And it just so happened that…” she shrugs, feigning apology. “All the days that worked conflicted with all her charity work.”

Luka whistles, half-impressed. “This the part where you tell me she decided to make your life a living hell like some high school drama villain?”

Marinette’s face falls. “Yeah,” she says, and her voice cracks, and he wishes he weren’t right. “But all she did was exactly what I did. Convinced… everybody… that every little thing I did was proof that I wasn’t a real friend. That I couldn't commit to anything because I committed to everything. And especially with how I avoided her… didn’t trust her, treated her cruelly. she turned everyone against me, a little at a time. Even Alya.” She shifts her weight. “Even Juleka.”

Luka’s heart sinks. He almost wants to reach for her hands when she paces toward him. Almost wants to kick himself for asking, “And… then what?”

She lingers at the balcony railing, perhaps preferring to tell the night sky the rest. “She got me expelled.”

Luka tenses.

Marinette doesn’t notice. “I’d been telling myself for months that I deserved it. Eventually I just… believed it. Let it happen. Never talked to my classmates again.” She shrugs. “I cried a lot. Transferred schools. Threw myself into… everything. Because if Lila said that was what I was doing—just over-committing—I might as well own it. And because if I was constantly doing something, then I couldn’t stop to think about all the bad things I deserved. And I couldn’t be paranoid about being judged for every little thing I did.”

“What…” He’s trying, with every fiber in him, to keep his heart from breaking for her. To keep himself from blurting out how well he knows the feeling. “What about Alya? And Adrien, and, uh… Mrs. Bourgeois’s kid?”

Marinette turns to face him, leaning back against the railing, and something in her face—no, everything—changes. There’s a tiredness in her eyes, a twitch in her hands. Lines in her face that shouldn’t be there for decades. As though she’s just lived them all over again. “I didn’t talk to Alya for over a year. I couldn’t be friends with her. I couldn’t even talk to her.” Her gaze lowers. “It was really hard on Nino.”

“Nino?”

“Our friend. well. My friend. Her boyfriend. He’s the one I’ve been helping for that summer project.” She folds her arms tight. “He apologized first. If it weren’t for him, Alya and I still wouldn’t be talking. And Chloé, well… Mrs. Bourgeois’s recommendation letter had nothing to do with her. I entered some contests with my portfolio and won a couple of them.” She flicks her gaze back. “I did run into Chloé once. In New York. I guess she decided to live with her mom for a while. She kind of took the ‘enemy of my enemy is my ally’ approach. Which was… weird. But tolerable.”

Luka searches her face, even at a distance, and settles on the end of the deck chair again. “What about Adrien?”

The pause that follows is heavy. He can’t tell who feels the weight of it more; he just hopes it’s equal. Marinette scrunches up her lips, braces herself on the railing, and all those decades come back. “Well,” she murmurs. “I guess you don’t really realize what you have until it’s gone, huh.”

He sobers. “He felt guilty.”

“I guess we all did.” She scuffs her heel. “I guess we all do.”

Luka waits. There must be more she wants to say.

There is. She even starts pacing again. “My guidance counselor used to tell me that all that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. It was supposed to be comforting.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t sound very comforting.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she says, “He reminded me they were still good people, and good people could do bad things, and even if they were still good, it was okay for me to not want those people in my life anymore. I dunno.” She rocks on her feet. “Maybe someone told Adrien the same thing and he couldn’t stand doing nothing anymore.”

“Did you want him?” he asks. “In your life? Do you still?”

She heaves a laugh like it’s hard to do. “Would you think it was messed up if I said yes?”

“No, of course not.”

“He could see it,” she says. “What Lila was doing. That was why he felt so bad. That was why he convinced her to clear my name. Turns out he knows how to use things to his advantage, too.”

Luka softens and runs his fingers over the body of his guitar. “He must love you a lot,” he says, “if he was willing to do all that for you.”

At first, Marinette doesn’t say anything, only grips the railing tighter. He can see it, how her knuckles go white, as though there’s something she’s trying to forget. Then she murmurs, “She tried to talk to me. Juleka did. To… apologize… I ghosted her. I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. For a while, I didn’t want to deal with anything anymore. I don’t want you to think it didn’t hurt me, because it did. It did hurt.”

Luka’s stomach turns. He puts his guitar down. “That’s why you’ve been so nice to me, huh…” There’s a lump in his throat that he tries to swallow; he only partly succeeds. “You felt guilty about avoiding her and just… wanted to make it up to her.”

Something flashes across Marinette’s face. Horror, maybe. Or shame. “No, I—that’s not what I—”

“I’m not upset.” He’s not. He’s staring at the floor with a pit in his stomach and a shake in his limbs, and his knee is starting to throb again in protest, but he’s not upset. “Really. I get it. If that’s what you needed for your own closure, then…”

A ragged breath and a sniffle cut him off, and he’s barely able to lift his gaze before Marinette kneels in front of him, placing his ring in his palm and closing his fingers around it. He can’t revel in the touch—won’t let himself—because her hands are cold. Trembling. “Don’t go,” she whispers, squeezing his hand tight, and when he looks up there are tears staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t even be asking this of you, just… please, don’t go.”

Luka learned, a long time ago, to look for the things unsaid. when I can’t make it really meant I’m trying to avoid you. when you’re certainly different really meant God, you are a level of fucked-up I can’t put into words. When we need to talk really meant it's over.

He hears, “Please don’t go,” and he thinks he finds, I want you in my life. Don’t you want me in yours?

Or, maybe, I need you.

Or maybe it’s as simple, as desperate, as, Not you, too.

He’s known Juleka, and maybe even himself, long enough to know what that sounds like in other people.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Hey, I’m not going.”

Marinette freezes, still staring at their hands. “Why? You have every reason to.”

“Because I’m not.”

“You’ve known me for like, two months, as what? A baker’s daughter? Overly nice customer service? Someone who just gave you kindness out of some dumb high school guilt?”

“I’m not going,” Luka says again.

“You should.” Marinette rubs her eyes dry. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” He coaxes his hand open, slides the ring back onto her finger. “Isn’t that enough?”

Marinette studies the ring, giving it a cautious flick. As though touching it might break it altogether. “It’s too big.”

“Then I’ll trade you.” Luka takes the ring back, digs around in his pocket, and fishes out a couple of guitar picks. “Here. Take one.”

One of them has a picture of Jagged Stone’s face. The other has a Kitty Section logo, crudely painted on with some of Juleka’s old nail polish. Marinette takes the first one almost instantly with another sniffle, examining it from all sides. “He’s… my favorite.”

“Yeah.” Luka smiles, not minding that she can’t see it, and thinks of the album cover. “Mine, too.”

She runs her thumb over the faces and edges, blinking away whatever tears threaten to stick around. “Why?” she asks again.

“To prove it.” He tilts his head. “To prove I’m not going.”

She turns the pick this way and that, but doesn’t put it away just yet. Instead, her eyes drift toward his guitar and the amp, and then up to him. “Hey,” she says. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“I know,” he tells her. “I won’t tell Jules about any of this. And I won’t make you talk to her if you don’t want to.” And I’ll stay. I swear to God I’ll stay.

“Not that.” Marinette presses her lips together, still sitting on her knees. Still holding on to the pick for dear life. “Can you play it again?”

“What, the song from your playlist?”

“Me.” She looks away, her cheeks flushed and blotchy. “Can you play me. Again.”

Luka’s heart picks up, so loud he can barely hear anything else. Even her. “Yeah,” he says, setting his guitar in his lap, “Yeah, I think I got it this time.”

i guess it’s eleven now.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #ah.............. emotions.

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harmoni-me · 3 years

Note

a poly komahinanami + reader request comin' through!: teaching crush reader emotions and how they work, how to interact with people, also stuff like romance, friendships, and having a real family.

thank you! don’t forget to stay hydrated!💙

My oh my, guess who’s back!? And with the longest story I’ve ever written just for you at that! This totaled up to be 17 pages on a Google Docs document, which is absolutely crazy by the way, but I just couldn’t stop writing this! But it’s now done, so I hope you enjoy!

Nagito Komaeda x Hajime Hinata x Chiaki Nanami x Reader Who Wants to Rediscover Emotions!

“Ugh...so not even that, huh…” Chiaki crashed onto a nearby sofa, slamming her face into a plush pillow, catching herself with a comfortable squish. You had just been shown one of those guilt-trip puppy adoption videos to try and kick-start your tear ducts, but it just honestly didn’t work. Though you desperately wanted the tears to flow, or at least have your eyes a little misty, nothing ever came. You couldn’t help it, but you were willing to do anything in order to feel, and know about everything that has to do with fruitful human emotion.

Just a mere few weeks before this moment, you were left with no one, going to a school for the talented and the elite. You did some research about social gestures, wanting to know what to do if someone wanted to talk to you.

Well, apparently you did something okay, because now you were sitting here with three people who are bumbling around, trying to figure out your emotional and social problems. It was most likely luck that you met these three that wanted to help you out of your own ditch, but you definitely weren't complaining. Not one bit.

You had people by your side, and you felt something warm bloom in your stomach when you realized as such. It was nice, like when you let the sun soak up into the pores of your skin on some sandy shores.

“Well, It’s not really their fault, you know? They were raised to be the Ultimate Perfectionist, their family must have done some terrible things in order for them to get this way...those bastards…” Hajime sat up against a wall, weaving his fingers into his hazelnut hair.

“Even though you’re simply reserve-course leftovers...you’re not wrong, Hajime. (Y/n) is in quite a predicament, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito laid cross-legged next to Hajime. Hajime just simply rolled his eyes at the white-haired boy's remark about his useless school status.

“Just a theory, but does talent honestly determine status? Wouldn’t it be like comparing someone’s grade’s to their natural IQ? Someone could simply just work harder, Nagito, and it’s that simple, most likely, to get on an Ultimate’s level.” You looked at Nagito, causing him to stiffen just a bit.

…uh

Was it something you said?

“Ah, (Y/n), your glaring. Practice softening your eyes a little bit. Giving off a serious look can make people uncomfortable sometimes.” Chiaki pointed out, gesturing to her own eyes, switching between a glare, and back to normal again, as if giving you a quick tutorial.

“Ah, um, sorry about that. I had no such intentions, so please forgive me, Nagito.” You bowed your head in forgiveness, already knowing what that gesture ment from social experience. Nagito just shook his head, causing his hair to sway along rhythmically, chuckling a little while doing so.

“No worries, please scold me whenever you please. I enjoy it.” Nagito let out a beaming laugh, shoulders bouncing at his own comment.

Hajime just clipped his thumb and index finger onto the upper-bridge of his nose, shaking his head to Nagito’s comment. Though, he could never stay mad at him for long… even with all of the degradation talk.

“Ok then, we need to get back to the situation at hand, because I have an idea!” Chiaki spoke out, making everyone in the room turn their head, ready to hear her out. The girl then picked herself up from the couch to stand tall among all of the sitting frames in the room.

“This situation is exactly like finally getting that shiny Pokemon you’ve always wanted, but it’s only level one. So you’ve got to go back and make it fight the smaller guys in order for it to start beating up the bosses.” Chiaki explained. Hajime nodded, apparently understanding exactly what she was talking about. Nagito was just sitting there, a clueless smile painted onto his face, listening with full intention of agreeing anyway.

You...you think you got the gist...but what the hell is a Pokemon?

“(Y/n) is our precious shiny Pokemon, and we need to take them out to experience all of the experiences, in order to gain all of the experience!” Chiaki finally proclaimed, confidently puffing out her chest in pride. Nagito just chuckled, while clapping at Chiaki’s idea, praising her. Hajime tilted his head a bit, seeming to want to know the stickler details.

“So, what’s the best way to go about this?” Hajime stood up from his seated position on the floor, stretching out his arms, sounding out a couple of pops from his tense muscles. Chiaki went silent for a moment, but then quickly jumped up with an idea.

“We divide it into levels, and create our own scenarios to fit within what we want to focus on in each level. For example, level one can be about trying to trigger certain emotions, like happiness. (Y/n) will pass the level when she completes the task provided. This will keep her motivated, and we’ll all have fun! I think.” Chiaki proposed, walking over to your listening form. You were confused, but you were also willing to try anything for you to feel like everyone else.

“So, (Y/n), are you ok with this?” The pale pink haired girl crouched down to your level, head turning, waiting for your approval.

“I’ll do anything to feel again. Of course I’ll do it.” You blatantly said, raising your tone to puppet a sort of happy emotion, though this time, it didn’t really feel as forced as it usually was, which made your heart jump in surprise. Your heart hopping domino-affected to your eyes widening in shock, as well as a jerk of fear in your body. You didn’t really know what you felt, but you wanted to figure it out more than anything in the world at the moment.

“Perfect! So, ah, what do the arcade machines say again...oh! Level 1, Start! Or maybe I’m wrong…” Nagito, stood, looking in your direction, as if signaling to you that everything was going to go great.

LEVEL 1: EMOTION TRIGGERS

You were sitting in a chair, while being surrounded by the three friends of yours. It was kind of how it went just a few minutes ago, with each person trying to show you something that might trigger something in you, but this seemed like it was going to be just a bit more...difficult.

“Well, what we’ve got planned is in order for you to go onto the next level, you need to achieve the following three emotional responses: Happiness, Repugnance, and Sadness. We’ll help you out on trying to trigger them, so don’t worry about it too much, alright?” Chiaki lightly said. You always enjoyed her voice, as well as her understanding personality. It was probably those character traits of hers that caused her to be your friend, most likely.

“Ah, well repugnance should be easy since I’m here, after all! Poor (Y/n) here would probably hurl after staring at scum like me for too long!” Nagito said with a smile dancing on his face, stepping into your vision, standing there for you to scan your eyes upon him. Hajime and Chiaki didn’t really object, but just wanted to see what would happen out of their own curiosity.

You observed him from your seat, as he said to do. The longer you looked at him, the more he just looked even more pretty than you thought he looked in the first place. His body was abnormally slim, making you wonder if he gets a proper amount of nutrition. You also noticed upon observing his features that his face fits perfectly within the four-division rule, which basically proves his face to be perfectly symmetrical. You also got a warm, sort of bubbly feeling when you looked into his eyes. It almost seemed as if they glowed a light, neon green. It was so enchanting...so-

“Pretty.” You said deadenly aloud, making everyone in the room so completely wide-eyed at your words, er, word. It was a surprise to them, to say the least.

“Uh...huh?” Nagito sounded, the tips of his ears darkening in a slight blush, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, apologies. I was just thinking about your pretty eyes. Oh, yes, sorry. I think your eyes are very nice. Also, did you know that your face fits perfectly into the four-division rule, which is very hard to find naturally. I think modeling agencies would really like your face, though you look underweight...do you eat on a regular basis? If not, I can recommend some meals that are high in protein and low in fat in order for you to gain a healthy amount of weight and-” You rambled about your findings about the man in front of you, causing the darkening hue to spread from Nagito’s ears to his cheeks. A snort of laughter could be heard from Hajime, while Chiaki snickered into her arm, trying to conceal the noise.

“Ah...ahahah..uh, HAJIME, YOU MENTIONED AN IDEA JUST A BIT AGO! WOULD YOU MIND PUTTING IT INTO ACTION FOR US PLEASE!?” Nagito blurted out unexpectedly, making his way over to the “sideline” where the two others resided.

“I don’t remember making any idea, Nag-” Hajime said, just wanting to tease the lucky boy around some more.

“SH-SHUT UP! JUST DO SOMETHING!” Nagito slapped Hajime’s shoulder in embarrassment, causing Hajime to laugh at his successful teasing attempt.

“Okay, okay, I did have one idea I wanted to try. Though, I might need (Y/n) to take off their school sweater. Just for a moment. You can put it back on if you’re uncomfortable without it.” Hajime walked over to your seat, and steadily waited for the removal of your sweater vest.

“Oh, I honestly don’t mind. I trust you, Hajime.” You simply stated, carefully slipping the school sweater vest off of your form, and lazily plopping it down on the ground adjacent to you. Hajime then stepped a bit closer, fiddling with the ends of his shirt a little, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sorry, but...d-do you mind closing your eyes?” Hajime quickly stuttered out. You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut in obedience.

You felt Hajime’s presence close in on you. Closer and closer his presence got, making you go just a tad ridged, until you felt something.

It was as if feathers started to dance on the dips of your hips, causing you to squirm from the feeling. You weren't sure what was happening at first, but the more the feeling continued, the more you felt as if a gigglish sound was about to burst from your lips.

“Uh, I’m close, but I need more hands. Can someone- Ah, thanks Chiaki…”

It was when the other pair of hands started to skip across your skin that your lungs exploded. A loud, joyous laughter rang through the room, raspy and unused. The hands just kept on going, making your laughing increase even more, to the point where tears pricked at the edges of your eyes, making you open them out of pure instinct.

It was a weird sight, but you weren't surprised; it was what made you laugh out in delight. Hajime and Chiaki were tickling your sides, making your laughter return to your emotional memory. You haven’t heard the sound of your own cries of happiness in such an incredibly long time, that you knew you didn’t recognize it from the decade or so that it had been buried and locked away deep inside you.

But here you were, laughing with the people you charised the most in that moment.

….

The room was at a standstill. Everyone was extremely overjoyed at your new emotional upbringing of happiness. It was amazing, and almost a miracle on how much you laughed and smiled, making you seem like a totally different person. It was to be celebrated about later, but things weren't nearly finished yet. Two more emotions still needed to be freed from within you, and finding the key to giving your feelings wings was difficult at that.

“I know exactly what will make her cringe!” Chiaki shot up from her thinking position, running to her console that was stuffed into her school bag. She pulled out the glossy pink electronic, powering it on, while simultaneously walking towards you.

“I will force you to watch a sim of Teruteru take a shower and make him woohoo with a ghost, making him have a ghost baby.” Chiaki stuck the screen up to your staring eyes. It was on what seemed like a digital Teruteru in a house, who was walking into the restroom of his abode. Once you saw that the character took off his clothes to bathe, you knew the threat wasn’t a farce like you thought it would be.

You honestly didn’t feel like witnessing something so...unnecessarily eerie and gross at the same time.

“Ew...”

That was all you said, scrunching your nose, and turning your head away from the screen as fast as possible to avoid from seeing such a monstrosity take place.

“Wow, that was...surprisingly simple! Such talent from an ultimate such as yourself, Chiaki!” Nagito praised the girl who willingly soaked it up like a proud child after getting a lollipop of accomplishment from the doctors office. You giggled unconsciously, astonishing yourself from the gesture, but you smiled, knowing that things might just return to how they once were in the past sooner rather than later.

“But, uh, can you actually have a ghost baby in that game?” Nagito questioned, and rightfully so, because you were coincidentally wondering the same exact thing. Chiaki darefuly glared into Nagito’s pale irises, signaling that she was dead serious, honest to God. Wow...must be quite the odd game she must be playing…

….

“Can’t we just...skip the sad one? We already got the other two down.” Hajime asked, not wanting to see you in a gloomy state, especially since the sight of seeing you so vulnerable might break his heart into two.

“No way, Hajime! Everyone needs to bawl their eyes out at least one time in their life, right? Despair’s tears are needed in order to live a balanced emotional life!” Nagito exclaimed, a slightly crazed look twirling within his eyes, reflecting his love for the subject at hand.

Nagito skipped over to your form, leaning close to your stature. An innocent smile was stitched onto his face, though it was quite obvious that he had completely ulterior motives. He was going to make you complete this level, no matter what he had to do.

“Just imagine, dear (Y/n), that you were blackmailed into killing me. What would you do?” His voice vibrated deep within your consciousness. It was a strange question, but it didn’t fail to make you feel incredibly uneasy. You looked down into your lap, thinking about your answer, for your response could affect the possible outcome.

“Report the threat to the police.” You simply said, because it was the truth. Putting a situation into more capable hands was the most logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

“Oh, but it’s blackmail, is it not? You might get killed if you do such a naive thing...let me change the question for you, just to make things easier…” Nagito’s hand drifted to lightly grasp your chin, raising it up to make stern eye contact. His nimble fingers held onto the bottom of your chin, gently squeezing your cheeks inward, puckering your lips.

“How would you kill me?” The darkness in his voice didn’t even try to be hidden, for it scared your heart into beating out of it’s chest even faster than it was before. What kind of question is that? Why would he ask something like this, and to you, especially?

“I don’t want to answer.” was the only thing you could push past your lips, which has started twitching at the thought of the question given. Nagito’s smile downcasted, the disappointment evident on his face. His grip on your face grew tighter, tighter as his nails dug a little into your delicate skin. His hold on your cheeks was like his way of wanting you to spit out every single detail of your answer, wanting to know so desperately how you would murder him.

You never wanted to answer that question, for you would never think about it in the first place. Nagito was someone you treasured, along with Hajime and Chiaki. The thought of seeing their own blood spill made you want to hurl everything on the floor, with the burning residue of stomach acid sizzling away at your throat.

“Tell me.” Was all he said, with shivering silence following straight after.

“No.” Your voice cracked. This was viewed as a terrible situation to be in. Never in such a long time have you felt this emotionally trapped. You were clueless on what you were feeling, but you knew that you never wanted to feel it again. You wanted to drown it, hoping it dies beneath much better emotions that you’ve resurfaced. But it never went away, only increasing, taking over all of your senses.

“Nagito, I think that’s enou-”

“Shut it.” Nagito sharply turned his head to face Chiaki, who had objectified.

Who was this? Was this the Nagito you’ve always gotten to know?

“You look like the poisoning type, in all honesty. Maybe you would slip it into my drink, or maybe just force it down my throat, none of which are bad choices. Maybe you would stay to watch scum like me convulsing on the floor, vomiting blood and mucus. What a pathetic way to go, wouldn’t it? You would have to live with the burden of my soul hovering over you for the rest of your life, wishing for yourself to be dead as well...What do you think? I bet you can do better than tha-”

“N-NO! P-please stop!” You screamed out, wanting the vivid picture in your mind to burn within a hellscape, never to be seen again. Your form was hiccuping and shrugging in sobs, wanting the images to go away. Nagito was your friend, and the vision of him laying in his own liquids and-

WHAM

“What the hell are you doing, Nagito?” Hajime fist has made contact with Nagito’s face, causing the boy to stumble back from the impact, his hand detaching from your face, leaving little red marks from the indentation of Nagito’s nails grounding themselves into your cheeks.

You started to shiver and shake, your heart so full of disturbance and sadness that you honestly just felt like dying. You wanted to go back to anything, anything that could be better than this feeling, but no matter how hard you tried, everything just kept on elevating. It was like a never ending hustle of feelings reaching over the brim, spilling over while also breaking the vessel.

Chiaki rushed over to your side, hugging you with all of her gentleness and consideration, patting down your hair in the most comforting way she could. Hajime went over and did a similar gesture, holding your hand, while bringing it into himself to embrace it. You don’t really know why he did, but Hajime lightly kissed the knuckles on the top of your hand, then once again bringing it into himself.

Nagito just stood there, dazed at the sight he was beholding. He really wasn’t sure what he did wrong, because he did what he was supposed to do, right? Yet, the heavy guilt building up within his stomach begged to differ.

He shuffled up lightly to your slightly shaking frame. He then dropped to his knees, a thump sounding from the action. Carefully, he laid his head in your lap, while tenderly placing his arms around your lower body.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to see that…” Nagito pleaded, his mumbling apologies verberated lightly from his mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, but you unsteadily placed your hands in his hair, patting it like you would with a delicate puppy. After a few seconds, you could feel a sudden dampness on your legs, and you could only guess it was Nagito’s down regretful tears.

“It’s...okay...you were trying to help. I understand, so everything is okay.” Was all you said.

The four of you all gathered in that position for a while, with some people switching around to give you the ultimate care and affection. The rest of the time together was used as a break from your emotional journey, with all of you guys gathering up on the couch to watch as many Star Wars movies you could possibly watch within a certain time frame.

….

LEVEL 2: HUMAN INTERACTION

The four of you were in a restaurant that was one of the most popular places in town. The menu was expansive and expensive, and the desserts were rumored to be on par with one of the best confectionery institutes in the country.

Chiaki had helped you to get dressed for the occasion beforehand, wanting you to learn the basics of dress code and why it’s placed into different areas. You learned that in places that excel in wealth, status, as well as being full of influential people, were usually required of a dress code. Fancy, one could call it, was usually the status quote. Though, if it wasn’t those things, then you could basically wear whatever you wanted to unless stated otherwise. Interesting….

“I’ll be paying the bill today, in case anyone is wondering.” Nagito said, shifting his suit a bit to fix the minor details. His hair was up in what seemed to be a half ponytail, with the rest of his wild hair flowing downwards as per usual.

“Well, yeah, you kinda are the only one that can pay for this kinda thing…” Hajime rang out, checking his watch from underneath his white dress shirt sleeves. You really liked how the shirt fit Hajime, for it accentuated his slightly muscular chest a little more, as well as his smaller waist being hugged by his black dress pants and belt.

Chiaki sat next to you, a pink dress hugging her curves perfectly. Not too tight to a point where it made her uncomfortable, but it still made her figure known, which was a cute, hourglass figure. It was too bad that she hid herself underneath her hoodie most of the time, she honestly deserves to flaunt it more often from your perspective, but you still respected her personal conservatism when it came to her own body.

“So...what do I do now? I know this has to do with my social development. I think. Right?” You questioned, wanting to know what you needed to do in order to improve, and hopefully lead you to be more bearable during social activities.

“We were thinking just simple things for now, like ordering for us, calling over for the check, asking for refills, and that stuff. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so, and we’ll correct you on anything when needed.” Chiaki quickly explained, with you nodding along, signaling that you were indeed listening to her.

“If (Y/n) is going to take our orders and give them to the waiter...then I guess i’ll have to tell you what I would like. A six ounce filet mignon with a caesar salad, please and thank you, dearest.” Nagito carefully listed off his order. You didn't really expect him to be a fan of steak, but you record the information with ease.

“Lobster and a side of soup for me.” Hajime smiled.

“I’ll have the french onion soup then. No side, I’m saving room for dessert!” Chiaki eagerly bounced in her seat, seeming to be quite excited for the treats this establishment would offer.

“Got it, then I’ll order just that, along with my food as well.” You confirmed the list in your head, just to double check, and once the waiter came around for the order, you did what you needed to do with ease. You were getting better, and that made everyone at the table extremely proud of your progression into becoming a better you.

“I want (Y/n) to practice in drama talk, I think that would be funny.” Chiaki commented, giggling at the suggestion. You figured “Drama talk” was just the spreading or finding of interesting rumors. You didn’t know that Chiaki was into that kind of thing, but it was quite humorous all in the same.

“Hm, interesting. Well, what kind of things have you seen around the school that could fuel into this conversation, (Y/n)?” Hajime asked, resting his head on his propped-up hands.

Interesting….you couldn’t really think of anything right off the bat. You looked back into your memories to see if there was anything that could be of interest...until you found it.

“I think I saw Kazuichi and Sonia walk into a cafe two days ago.” You attempted to spark something interesting, and apparently it worked, because Chiaki went absolutely feral at your comment.

“No. Way. I don’t believe it, are you sure it was actually them!?” Chiaki hollered, eyes sparkling out of a childlike curiosity.

“I’m almost positive, there’s only a few people I know that have pink hair, and another with blonde locks that reach to their ankles.” You confirmed, making even Hajime and Nagito’s attention draw into the topic. It seems as if they weren’t really expecting it either. It was funny how both of their eyes blew up all of a sudden, as if you said something completely ridiculous.

“Is it...really that unbelievable?” you asked, genuinely wanting an answer. You kind of were seeing it all along, though it was merely one sided at first, like, really one sided. Eventually you expected them to hook up somewhere in between.

“I don’t really know him very well since we don’t really share the same class but I’ve heard from Chiaki that he can be a bit…” Hajime tried to search for the words, as if he wanted to pick something out of the dictionary that is not as offensive as he wanted it to be.

“Hyperactive with a dash of a perverted young teen.” Nagito finished bluntly. He wasn’t wrong, but you believe that he could be a grown man...sometimes.

Alright, maybe not as much as what was ideal, but still.

“Oh my god I still can’t believe this is happening…” Chiaki was sitting there, looking like she was a woman in her thirties experiencing her first midlife crisis. You figured you succeeded in the drama department...or maybe you had said too much.

….

The night ended off extremely profitable to your social skills, and to your stomach. You learned correct table mannerisms, as well as waiter manners and gestures from the three of your friends. Not to mention that you have never tasted anything more delightful than the multitude of desserts that Nagito had ordered for the table. Although he wanted to get the whole dessert menu, he knew that the proportions could probably not fit all on the table, so he just got what he believed to be the best five deserts. And let’s just say that you and Chiaki were having a ball with all of them, while Hajime and Nagito were sharing a lava cake with vanilla ice cream, in their own little conversation.

You and Chiaki felt like you couldn’t walk, and truth be told, you two actually couldn’t. It was so funny that Nagito probably busted a lung, and Hajime chuckled profusely while helping the two of you hobble out of the restaurant with your full bellies.

All of you had an eventful sleepover after that, with all of you falling asleep on each other while watching the Home Alone series. All of you passed out after the first movie, because it was boring compared to the first one. Nothing could ever beat the first one.

Once everyone woke up the next morning, apparently Nagito had prepared another lesson for you, wanted everyone to join and participate, for this one was “Special” compared to the other ones.

You don’t really know how it happened, but now you were stuck on the couch of Nagito’s house, being lectured about a topic you honestly didn’t know that much. Well, other than the movie’s that you’ve watched about it.

LEVEL 3: ROMANCE

“I think we can all agree that (Y/n) here will definitely get asked out dozens of times throughout their lives, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito stated, as if it was an obvious fact that everyone in the world should know.

“I mean, yeah. I really wouldn’t be surprised if she got asked out a few times.” Hajime replied, trying his best to be as nonchalant as possible, though the light blush on his face was quite evident in that moment alone. You never got to see his face as flushed as it was very often. And it was amazingly amusing.

“Therefore, I propose we teach her the swooning basics! Romantic gestures, if you were to frame it that way.” Nagito spread his arms out, as if he were a ruling king among a giant kingdom.

You were a bit dumbfounded by the idea, purely because of the fact that Nagito, of all people, came up with this idea. You will admit that you were completely inept when it came to anything close to romance or love, but that doesn’t really mean that you weren’t open to trying to be in a relationship. Though, you don’t really know what to do if that circumstance ever were to pass.

“Wait, are you sure that they’ll even be comfortable with this? This is some intimate stuff we’re talking about.” Chiaki chimed in, proving a point. You have heard about some actions that only lovers do, and you honestly didn’t really want to practice them, based on the descriptions that those actions beheld.

“As long as it’s nothing overboard, I don’t see the harm.” You confirmed, wanting to let everyone know that you’re ready for probably one of your toughest challenges yet. Or not. Who knows?

“Wonderful! Now, where to start...suggestions, anyone?” Nagito looked into the mere three person crowd he had going on, pointing at a Hajime who had raised his hand. When did this suddenly become a classroom scenario?

“Well, we should probably think about what couples do, right? Like, I dunno, holding hands and hugging. Things like that, right?” Hajime indicated, listing off the activities with his fingers.

“Perfect! Well, you know what to do then…” Nagito went over to Hajime, nudging him a little bit towards you. He rolled his eyes in response, seeming to be tired of Nagito’s antics of teasing and prodding.

“I...guess I’ll try…” Hajime murmured, picking himself up from the couch, then plopping himself closer to you. You turned to look into his eyes, which had quickly darted away from your own, a spreading red blooming onto his cheeks.

“Well, I guess I’ll teach you how to, uh, hold hands first.” Hajime stated, nervousness evident in his voice. You could hear Chiaki giggle in amusement from her spot on the couch, along with a chortling Nagito, who was snickering through his toothy smile.

“Usually,” Hajime began, “Couples hold each other's hands like this.” He softly took your hand into his own, intertwining his fingers to fit the spaces inbetween yours like a perfect fit to a puzzle piece. It was cheesy to just think about it, but it honestly felt like it belonged there, and it made your chest begin to feel warm, resembling hot coals within a fireplace.

“People can do this basically whenever, like when they're walking together, laying down with each other, and some people even do it when they, uh, sleep with one another. But either way, it feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hajime inquired, lifting up your tangled-up fingers, smiling kindly. The whole thing was so incredibly comforting and sweet, making you face unconsciously heat up. You’ve only blushed a few times in your life, and half of those times you had no clue you were even blushing, but now, you were pretty damn sure your face was as red as a freshly picked strawberry.

“‘Oh, yeah. You can also do this, I think this is kinda a common thing too.” Hajime then undid the bond of the two hands, gently putting his own hand underneath yours. With his thumb, he dragged it back and forth across the top of your hand, making your heart leap from the gesture.

“Woah, Hajime, you really know your stuff, don’t you?” Chiaki pestered, giggling herself into even higher spirits. Hajime huffed out in an embarrassed annoyance. Can he just...have this moment for a god forsaken minute?

“Can...can I try?” You suddenly spoke, causing Hajime the look up in attentive stature. He let go of your hand, but still left it pretty close to your dominant one.

“Of course, you’re the student here, after all. So, go ahead.” Hajime then offered his hand, leaving it suspended in the air, waiting for you to reciprocate.

You nervously approved his hand with yours, your heart beating so hard up against the inside of your chest, that you were partially convinced that it was begging for an escape. You then shakily intertwined your fingers, causing Hajime to reciprocate your hold. Your hand was probably clammy from all of your apprehension, but Hajime looked pleased with what you had achieved.

“Look at that, all by yourself, huh? Look at you go.” Hajime chuckled, playfully gripping tighter onto your hand, then started to shake it around lightly, making you laugh a little from the gesture.

It was strange, but you really wanted to know what it was like to hold Nagito and Chiaki’s hands as well...maybe it was just your brain’s curiosity kicking in, or maybe it was the yearning that your heart was reaching out for. You didn’t know, so you let the feeling flourish, letting it be.

….

“And how in the world is Nagito good at anything romantic again?” Hajime exclaimed, making Nagito mock offence from the comment, then wickedly laughed it off. Chiaki shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes a bit, wanting her point to be shown through.

“You can’t deny that he’s pretty creative when it comes to names.” Chiaki explained, “He’s probably the most qualified person here if we’re going to teach them about pet names.” She turned her head to the lucky boy in question, who was playing with one of his bottom curls with his index finger, twirling it around, then releasing it in a transfixing way.

“Hm? Oh, well if I could be of some use...then of course I’ll do it for our little sunflower!” Nagito seemed to brighten the room a few levels of hues with merely his speech alone.

“Ok, well I see what you mean now…” Hajime mumbled into Chiaki’s ear, causing her to puff up in pride.

Nagito seated himself next to you, making himself comfortable. He gestured for you to do the same, wanting for you to be relaxed while he did his wordy magic.

“I’m honestly not the best for something like this, with me being a piece of lonely trash and all, but I’ll try to introduce you to some ‘Pet Names’ your future lover might bestow upon you. Better yet, you could use these to give to your lover yourself, which is also a fine option.” Nagito seemed to fully lean his weight onto the couch, closing his eyelids, and sighing out in a relaxed bliss.

“Hmmm...a common one is baby, babydoll, or even the bland bae are all some simple ones. They’re calling you cute, like a giddy child, but personally those are quite the lazy names, in my opinion…” Nagito chuckled.

So...getting basically called a kid by your lover means that they think you're cute? That confused you...because you didn’t really like the idea of you being compared to a child on the cuteness spectrum. It seemed wrong...but you got why others would enjoy it.

“These one’s I enjoy more, they’re all based on sweet foods, indicating you’re, well, sweet. Or maybe just scrumptious in your own way...Anyway, people can say honey, cupcake, buttercup, and probably a lot more.” His hands started to sway around him, aiding him in his explanation.

You could call someone a sweet-tasting food and they’ll be flustered from the complement? That sounds simple enough.

“Ah, we still have so much more, I could go on forever…” Nagito exhaled, smiling, seeming to be experiencing a lot of inner peace in that moment.

“No, please continue. This is interesting to me, and I’m also learning a lot!” You proclaimed, curious for more. Nagito just snickered, moving on with his long list of names.

“People sometimes like to nickname after animals. The ones that are known to be small or cute, like bunny, bambi, kitten, and my personal favorite, dove. So pretty, is it not? Naming your lover after the bird that represents inner peace, and the bringer of love…”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, even though he couldn’t see you with his eyes closed. The fact that humans named other humans based off of animals for the sake of endearment made sense, but you hoped it didn’t get too extreme, or was used in offensive language...

“What one’s do you like the most?” You asked, to Nagito’s surprise. He had to stop and think for a moment, as if he was about to prepare himself what he was about to say.

“I’m...picky. I like names that are meaningful, yet roll off the tongue just right. Though, I also want my partner to be comfortable with the name as well. It’s hard to pinpoint a single one but...maybe it would have to be between love, or precious. They’re simple...but for some reason it makes my heart feel warm.” Nagito put his hand to his chest, humming in satisfaction from his own touch.

“Hmmm….I think if I wanted to give you a pet name Nagito, I think it would be…” You sat in thought, furrowing your brows to think of something endearing your can say to the hopeless romantic.

“Ah, now there’s no need for tha-”

“Flower.”

“Huh?” Nagito opened his eyes to look at you, staring into your thoughtful orbs.

“Like a dandelion, because when you blow on it to make a wish, then it comes true. So I think it matches well.” You tried to break down your reasoning, but it just left Nagito more confused, and not to mention more flustered.

“I...don’t really seem to understand really.” Nagito shifted around on the couch as a sort of a nervous tick. It was obvious to even you that the way his eyes flickered around like someone in a frantic state indicated much apprehension.

“It’s because you're the flower that made my wishes come true.” You stated, smiling at the boy who started to radiate steam from his ears, seemingly not able to take anymore of the emotional turmoil.

In the end, Hinata had to lay him down on the couch for a while, while Chiaki pulled out a bag of frozen peas to place on Nagito’s burning cheeks, who was mumbling something along the lines of “I’m so lucky…” like a crazy mantra.

You just watched it all go down, while also using the term “Flower” in sentences out loud, honestly not helping with Nagito’s heart, which was out of control.

….

“So...I have to teach you how to cuddle, right? Well that’s easy. Boys, get off this couch. It’s cuddle time. ” Chiaki blatantly said, though she did keep that pretty smile on her face at all times. Your knowledge on cuddling was limited, but you did it a couple times as a whole group, so that counts...probably.

“Lay down so we can get started, okay?” Chiaki gently said, laying herself down on the couch, opening her arms to you, inviting you into her seemingly warm embrace. You eminently fell into her arms, your head nuzzling unintentionally into her chest. She giggled at your actions, obviously enjoying herself.

Hajime and Nagito, not really knowing what to do, just sat down together in a large cushioned recliner, the both of them leaning back into the chair, bodies pressed up against each other. Nagito had grabbed a book beforehand, so he took this time to simply enjoy his novel. Hajime, being curious and bored, kept on bugging Nagito with questions about the book, which Nagito honestly didn’t mind him doing.

“Ok, let’s start with the common stuff, little spoon or big spoon?” Chiaki said, holding up the number two on her fingers to indicate the options that she had just listed. You had no idea what she had just ment. Spoons? Like, soup spoons? Or ice cream spoons? Your mind was rushing with questions, and Chiaki snickered lightly from your inquisitive irises, knowing how perplexed she had made you.

“Sorry, you’re probably confused, so I’ll just show you.” She shifted herself so that she was facing away from you, so that all you could see was her back. She then wiggled closer to you from that angle, so that her spine was pushed up lightly against your chest. You just laid there, rigid in not knowing what to do with your arms, which were tense from Chiaki’s actions.

“Wrap your arms around me. Don’t be shy, I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong.” She said, waiting for your embrace to bestow itself around her.

Humming in agreement, you used your arms to comfortably wrap itself around Chiaki’s dipped waist, instinctively pulling her closer to you. The pink-haired girl had mumbled from the movement, but then stuck up a little thumbs up to you, indicating that you did everything perfectly.

The two of you stayed in that position for a while, getting comfy from each other's radiating warmth. It was something so peaceful, that it filled your heart with an unknown bliss. You wanted to stay like this forever, but you knowing that it had to end eventually made you feel just a bit of disappointment.

“M’kay..les’ do another one.” She finally spoke, sleepiness obvious within her voice, making you smile a bit. She turned over to you, then started to shove your shoulder lightly with her palm.

“Go on your back…I’m gonna lay on you.” She murmured, pushing you down on your back, and shifting her form onto your chest. Her head was snuggled into your neck, while her arm lazily laid on your abdomen. What surprised you about the position is the fact that Chiaki’s leg had tossed itself over to drape over your lower body. It was as if she was just a baby, clingy koala who wanted their nap time to begin already...actually, this was exactly that, Chiaki was definitely a cute, sleepy koala who just wanted to snooze.

“This is the sweetheart’s cradle...you make a good pillow…” Chiaki mumbled into your neck, making the area feel hot from how flustered you were. Yet, it was so incredibly soothing, that you just wanted to just...rest here until the day you died. You weren't even exaggerating either, because if you were to die like this, you definitely would be the happiest person on earth, and definitely the most snug corpse out there by a longshot.

“Can...can the other’s join too?” You managed to mutter, causing Chiaki to slightly stick her head up.

“Mhm...you’re lucky this couch is big…” she answered, then turned her head to the two boys, who were bickering about the protagonist from Nagito’s book.

“(Y/n) wants you guys to join, come on...don’t keep me and them cold and waiting.”

From that point forward, nothing could compare from the warmth of all three of the people that meant the most to you. The warmth of family...the warmth of true friends...and the warmth of love, all sang such a bright song in your heart, helping you to finally find yourself again. The hardened plaster covering your emotional bank had cracked, leaving the feelings to leak free for the first time in a decade.

And with that layer of facade broken by the people you grew to love the most, you couldn't have wanted it any other way. It would always be them to break down your walls. It would always be them that lead you down the path to find the you you’ve always been searching for. And it would always be them that provided you with the love that you’ve missed out on in life.

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