#not the exact pose but he did in fact hold his hands out and gesture towards reid
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gideon: ever talk to someone who continually wants to show you he’s smarter than you?
derek:
#criminal minds#criminal minds rewatch#jason gideon#derek morgan#spencer reid#not the exact pose but he did in fact hold his hands out and gesture towards reid#memes#criminal minds memes
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— You clapped as you put in 20 dollars in the donation jar. It was a lot of money for you to donate, but it was worth it. Not only was he pretty, but he was talented in playing the electric guitar. The music he played was exactly what you were into, and you were giddy about this fact. This was your 10th performance of his you've gone to.
You had originally found him on Instagram reels and heard a snippet of his music, then followed him, then found out he lives in your city and is a busker. Your day had brightened instantaneously when you found all of that out.
Soon after you tipped, his street performance ended, and the crowd dispersed. You were about to leave as well, but someone touched your shoulder and made you jump.
"Hey." The musician said with a smile so bright it was blinding. He had blonde shoulder-length hair with the undersides being teal in color. His hair was styled in a way that it framed his wide pink eyes. You were trying to stop the fan boy in you from breaking loose.
"Um... Hi?" You were going to strangle yourself for making it come out awkward. Whilst you were punching yourself in your head, the musician was undressing and ravishing your body in his mind.
The lewd moans and grunts you gave, the sensual poses you made, and the way you pleasured yourself in front of him. You were his exact type. A clueless little emo boy, and that's what you were. It was hard not to fuck you right then and there, but he didn't wanted to scare you off. It was hard to find a person like you.
"Ah, I've noticed you come to my performance often, so I wanted to give you a give to show my appreciation." He smiled lopsided. Your mouth was slightly open from shock. You were getting a gift from him!?! Your inner fan boy was pulling at your skin to jump up and scream in joy.
"O-oh. Really?" You questioned, trying your best not to crumble apart from holding yourself back. The busker made you wait for a hot second before showing you a spiked collar with chains. It was exactly something that would have come out of your closet, and so you fell in love with it. You were touched that he found something that you would wear and enjoy.
"May I put it on?" He gestured, to which you nodded you head quickly before turning around and showing the back of your neck. He moved the collar in front of your neck before clasping it on you. Though there were two miniscule details you would never notice.
The fact that his initials were burned on it and the fact that there was a tracking device on it. How else is he going to steal your underwear and use it to fap to?
"Thank you! Goodbye, and have a nice night!" You waved your hand and left, feeling like you've gotten your biggest achievement checked off.
The busker watched and licked his lips as you walked away happily. Sooner or later, you were going to be his.
I accidentally posted it and the ask got del. My bad 😔 also i misread it and wrote a diff ver on my phone where the musician playes in concerts and you were the busker. Eh whatever. I'm not too sure if anon was missing some detail but don't care. Though i got upset when i forgot to save it >:( sighhh. Idk if this if you wanted anon, but i did my best!
Also it will take a while for pt two of my pop. Fic to get released cos idk people would want a part two that bad. Not proofread.
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I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy
omggggg that’s so so cute!!
A Bakers Help
The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.
There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.
“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”
Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”
The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.
“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”
There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.
“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.
All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.
In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.
Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.
“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.
Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.
Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.
“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.
“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”
Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.
“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.
Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.
Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.
#tommy shelby x sister!reader#tommy shelby x sister reader#shelby sister#shelby sister reader#shelby!sister#shelby!sister reader#shelby!reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders blurb#(y/n) shelby#little shelby
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TikTok Series | Anyway, so.
Word Count: 1.2k
Category: Fluff
Warning: Idk, language? Idk anymore but no heavy stuff it’s literally just TikTok content
Request: for your tik tok series i can imagine y/n and harry trending and harry would be like “what did you post now?” and it would actually be the fans this time. the “i’ve never seen two pretty best friends” with videos of them being like they are both pretty so that’s a lie. loving that series
** THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT! i hope you like it, and let me know what you think 🤍
// masterlist //
..
The numbers only went up with your TikTok; the views, the likes, the comments, and the followers.
What started as just you having fun during quarantine, ended with a verified account and demanding fans of your boyfriend asking you to take part in many challenges and pranks.
“y/n’s tiktok is basically just her cooking or pranking harry or dueting stans’ videos with a hood on and i love every second of it”
“tiktokers: doing stupid shit to gain money
y/n: anyway dudes, here’s how to make grilled cheese with no cheese for if you’re too broke to get any”
“when y/n duets thirsty tiktoks I just can’t help but think of how much I want a partner this chill”
“can anyone start any new couple challenge already? I want new harry & y/n content k thanks”
Fans were vocal about how much fun they had with your TikTok, some adding sentiments that made you emotional like;
“never thought I’d feel connected to anyone who’s with harry but here’s y/n replying to tiktok comments like we’re all a bunch of friends”
“I kid you not, the reason why I’m excited to eat at school is because I’m always excited to try y/n’s easy recipes and I just love her so much”
“not me meeting y/n, harry styles’ gf, at the grocery store today and greeting her like we grew up together bc that’s how I feel about her”
Along with laughing together at videos, you and Harry also seemed to always have a new catchy song to sing around the house ever since you first installed the app, with how it has helped artists’ music go viral. Hell, even funny songs would get stuck in your brains.
On your phone was proof of that. Standing behind an oblivious Harry as he cooked one day, he was in shorts and a tight top, flipping toast on the stove as he sang, “Chicken wing, chicken wing, hot dog and bologna, chicken and macaroni, chillin’ with my homies,” wiggling his butt as he did.
You hadn’t posted since the “How well do our brains work together” TikTok you posted with Harry, so when you saw yours and Harry’s ship name trending with 84.7 million views to it, you were confused to say the least.
Sitting beside Harry as he was on his laptop, you moved closer to lean against his side, his arm reflexively wrapping around you.
“We’re trending on TikTok.”
“Aren’t we always?” He smugly asked, looking at you.
“No,” you laughed, “Usually after I post something, yeah, but I haven’t posted in two weeks.” You said as you clicked on the hashtag, seeing pictures of you and Harry in many videos along with different faces with titles.
Clicking on a video with 6.3 million views, you and Harry watched as a girl filmed herself with the background music sounding and someone speaking through it, “I ain’t never seen two pretty best friend. It’s always one of ‘em gotta be ugly.”
The music then stopped, Nicki Minaj’s voicing being heard, “Ummm...Chile. Anyway, so,” before Noahplause’s song, Runnin’, came, and with it came pictures of you and Harry.
A picture of the both of you from Dunkirk’s premiere; Harry in his suit with his arm around your waist as he looked down at you with a smile. You in a dress that matched the color of his suit, one hand on his chest and another on his shoulder, smiling to the cameras.
A picture of you lying on the sand at the beach in your swimsuit with your eyes closed, Harry’s head resting on your stomach as he looked up at the camera with a neutral face, it being a picture from when he was filming the Watermelon Sugar music video.
A candid picture taken by paps of Harry standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head as you stood in a park with a couple of friends.
A selfie you had posted to your Instagram story of you lying your head on Harry’s shoulder, him looking to the side, making his sharp jawline perfectly appear.
A picture of you and Harry kissing from one New Year’s party you attended; your hands on his cheeks, his tangled in your hair. It was a low-quality picture, but it still showed clearly that it was the both of you.
You and Harry were watching with amused expressions, laughing in surprise at the trend his fans seemed to start.
“This is so cute, what!” You laughed at the video, “Let’s watch another one and duet it.”
“What does that mean? What do we do?” Harry asked, looking at you.
“It means, I’ll choose to duet so when I post it, the two videos will be aligned together and we’ll watch that video as we record.” You explained, scrolling before pausing the next video and tapping on ‘Duet.’
“So, it’s like a reaction?”
“Exactly,” you nodded, “Ready?”
“Yes.” Harry grinned, turning his body slightly.
Your phone showed yours and Harry’s faces, both of you with small smiles before you made sure that the mic was opened and began recording, the video you were reacting to beginning to play.
It started with a ceiling as the man spoke his line. When it came to the guy saying “two pretty best friends”, Harry had mouthed along, gesturing between the both of you making you laugh.
Nicki then spoke, and in came Runnin’ with pictures of you and Harry.
First one was of just you smiling to the camera.
At this, Harry’s smile widened.
Second one was Harry smirking at one of his shows from 2018.
You hummed, nodding slowly.
Third one was of you with makeup, an eyebrow raised and a hand to your temple, posing for the camera.
“Insanely good.” Harry said slowly with a shake of his head, eyes fixed on the phone. You cooed, pouting at his comment.
Fourth one was of Harry smirking in the tulle-detail, off-shoulder trench coat from his Vogue photoshoot.
“This one, yes!” You exclaimed, causing Harry to laugh.
Fifth one was the same picture of the both of you from when he was shooting his Watermelon Sugar music video.
“I love this one so much.” Harry said before giving a genuine closed-lipped smile as he remembered the exact moment the picture was taken.
“Right?” You smiled.
Sixth one was a video of the both of you dancing, your arms around his neck, his hands holding your waist, as it showed the both of you grooving with Harry singing to you with a smile on his face.
“Shut up, I didn’t know this existed.” You gasped, Harry chuckling.
Seventh one was a picture taken by a friend of yours; your eyes were closed in childlike happiness, Harry sitting beside you and looking down at you with a dopey smile as one of his hands squished your cheeks.
“Hey, that’s my lockscreen!” Harry beamed, instantly holding his phone to yours, showing that the last picture was, in fact, his lockscreen so excitedly before the video ended.
Posting the video, you added a caption to it:
“we have the biggest smiles on our faces. you’re all so adorable thank you😭 (also 10/10 for calling us best friends)”
“We are best friends,” Harry said, letting out a sigh before dramatically wrapping both arms around you, giving you a squeeze, “Best of!”
#harry styles imagine#tiktok series#harry styles fluff imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff one shot#fluff#ik i reposted this like 3 times but tumblr just wouldnt show the tags#harry styles fake social media#harry styles tiktok
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The Ring - Part 2
Fandom: Naruto
Character: Tobirama Senju
Prompt: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sekhmetswrath MAKE IT A WONDERFUL DAY AND SIMP SOME MORE OVER YOUR MAN FOR YOU ARE TOBIONE!!! You can read part 1 here in case you missed it.
Word count: -1K
Warnings: Allusions to marriage & misunderstandings.
Masterlist
Maybe Tobirama did have some catching up to do. With the misunderstanding now cleared up, new opportunities revealed themselves, meaning that he had to grasp them hard and fast if he didn’t want to lose out and miss out again.
So, it started with lunch. Innocent and unremarkable, other than the fact that Tobirama went through the extra effort in reminding everyone (but mostly his brother) not to join him with lunch. You at least hadn’t thought much of it, unaware of the misunderstanding before and the distance that had put between you two. You did notice the extra effort Tobirama spent in approaching you, however, and that alone was enough to make your heart race.
Lunches alone, turning into spending days off together, turning into chatting after work, turning into dinners together. First outside, then at home, then it turned into cooking together until…
“Are you sure there is nothing between you two?” Hashirama had asked, sounding almost disappointed when you shrugged your shoulders.
“Should there be? It is rare enough for Tobirama to have a friend to begin with,” was your answer and in the back you could hear Madara holding back a laugh, though everyone in the room knew to agree with that statement.
“Well, yeah, but…” And for once Hashirama was a little at a loss of words, unsure how to tell you that there might be more coming from his brother who usually didn’t open up to anyone at all and certainly didn’t enjoy any chatter to come along with his lunches (which he also preferred to shove down his throat while doing some extra work).
And so it went on, with both of you entering a new routine that involved the other, growing closer, itching closer, but always that little distance of hesitancy between.
Did he like you the same way as you liked him? You posed the question to yourself one day, never really having dared to think the thought and possibility of becoming something more to the man than a friend.
What you didn’t know was that he was asking the exact same question, to himself. And that the only reason why he hadn’t broached the topic yet was because he believed himself to be rather obvious. After all, he had allowed you into his life, the one that everyone at work whispered about was too mysterious. To Tobirama there was no more obvious way to tell you that he wanted you in his life as something more than…
What were you? It even confused you, who had so far only thought of him as a friend.
But the question wasn’t broached and life went on. Lunches were eaten together, long conversations in which you poured out your hearts were shared. Late night strolls and dinners at each other's places.
You even shared a kiss. A fleeting one, but it was the press of the lips together and against each other nonetheless. It was shared at home, on your couch, after dinner and wine. Perhaps that one glass had been too much. Maybe the stew hadn’t cooked out all of the alcohol yet. Whatever the case, neither of you mentioned it again as Tobirama got up from your couch and bid you goodnight.
And then your birthday came. And once more Tobirama asked you for your time. Once more you went on your comfortable routine of lunches and talks and dinners together and spending time together as if the kiss had never happened. And it might as well not have happened seeing how fleeting it was. You couldn’t even recall his warmth.
But your birthday came and Tobirama had asked you for your time. Alone. So he had pressed and you hadn’t thought too much of it as you promised your friends to celebrate your birthday the day after. Surprisingly they all went along with it, smiles bright on their faces as if they knew what was going to happen without you saying anything.
The kiss still swirled in your head, confusing you all the more as you wondered what it meant with a man so stoic, but so subtle as Tobirama. He wasn’t one for bold declarations, you know, but sometimes you wish he was, so that it was easier to read him, to tell what he was thinking.
“You are still wearing your earrings,” he pointed out that night, eyes gliding over that finger on your left hand and its two silver bands. You thought it to be elegant, not too screaming, nothing too extravagant while also keeping the creeps at a distance.
“Sure do, can’t afford to lose it,” you smiled, raising the glass of wine that you were still nursing, not wanting to repeat another ambiguous moment with him that left you all in confusion and despair.
You really wanted to know what he was thinking. What he thought this was.
With a turn on your heels you faced the man, finding that Tobirama had turned as well, as the two of you met chest to chest, a heartbeat skipped and then continuing in union before you both spoke the name of the other.
You fell quiet, encouraging the other to go on as a questioning look bloomed upon your face and Tobirama pulled out a little box, square and small, too small to be anything else but what you thought as your heart started to march off the beat it just found.
“Happy birthday,” the man told you, revealing a silver band much like the ones you were wearing around your finger, but this time proper. A proper ring without the need to fool any other.
Tobirama was a man of subtle gestures and slight remarks. He wasn’t one for bold declarations or many explanations. You had found that when another misunderstanding was cleared up between the two of you. One that explained a whole lot more on what there was between the two of you.
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Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun
Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.
Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader
Category: fluff, au, life lessons
Word count: 16.7k
Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.
Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x
Winter one.
There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.
Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.
He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.
“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.
You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.
He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”
You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”
“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.
You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.
He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.
He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”
His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.
“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”
You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.
“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.
They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.
“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”
He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”
So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.
He looked breathtaking.
And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.
“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.
You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”
He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”
You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”
He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”
“Me too.”
“You’re here by yourself?”
“Mhm. You?”
“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”
Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”
You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”
You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”
He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”
You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred. Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so, in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.
“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”
And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.
You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.
“I’m Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.
His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.
“Y/n. I’m y/n.”
Winter two.
When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.
You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.
“Beautiful, huh?”
You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.
“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.
Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”
You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”
You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”
He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”
You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.
“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”
His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”
“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”
You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”
Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”
“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.
It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”
You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”
You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.
“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”
You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”
“And that’s not enough?”
“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”
“You think I’m out to harm you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.
“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.
You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.
“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”
------
“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.
You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”
Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.
As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.
You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.
Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”
Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”
That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.
“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”
“Oh?”
“Mhm.”
“Then what?”
“A model, maybe.”
Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).
Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”
Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”
You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.
“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.
And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.
“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.
“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.
------
When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.
“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.
“Both?” You reply honestly.
Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”
You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”
You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.
“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.
You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.
You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”
You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.
“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.
You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”
Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”
“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”
You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.
“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.
It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.
“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.
You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”
Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”
You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.
“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”
“Right?”
“I love it.”
You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”
You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”
Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”
You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”
Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”
You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”
Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”
You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.
“Handsome.”
Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.
Until tonight.
Winter three.
The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.
As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.
“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”
All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.
“Excuse me? I was here first.”
You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.
You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”
Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”
“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”
“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.
You wonder if he’s noticed.
Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.
He’s definitely noticed.
“I want to know more about you y/n.”
So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.
When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.
“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”
You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”
“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.
“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.
“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”
You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.
“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.
You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.
Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.
And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.
Maybe not so forwardly.
“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.
Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.
Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.
When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.
You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.
“Have you much experience with ice skating?”
You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”
Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.
Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.
For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.
“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.
Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.
“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.
You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”
“Yes.”
You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.
“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”
You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”
“When I want something, yeah.”
Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun’s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.
Attachment was never part of the plan.
Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.
Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.
“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.
He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”
“It’s no problem.”
His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.
It was time to be honest.
So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.
“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”
Winter four.
You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.
It didn’t make sense, none of it did.
But then again, when did anything ever make sense?
Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.
This will definitely be your last time here.
“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”
“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”
You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”
“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.
There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.
But your mom didn’t have to know that.
“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.
It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.
At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.
Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–
You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.
But nothing happens.
“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”
You look up.
“Hi.”
You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.
“How are– hey! Ow!”
“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”
“I’m sorry!”
“You should be!”
You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.
“So you were waiting for me, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”
“Were you?”
“Where the hell have you been anyway?”
He grins even more.
“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”
“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.
“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”
Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.
“Fine. Yes.”
You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”
Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.
Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s enough time.”
None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.
“Missed you,” he murmurs.
Glad to know you weren’t the only one.
------
Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.
In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.
“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”
Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”
“Exactly so–”
“You are pretty.”
You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what I meant.”
You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.
When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.
“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.
Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”
You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”
Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”
“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.
“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.
“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”
“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.
Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.
“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.
It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.
Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.
When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”
“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”
You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”
“Oh, must be the cold.”
So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.
“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”
Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”
“No way? Really?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”
When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.
“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”
Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”
You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.
Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.
“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”
“You mean that?”
“Mhm. I really do.”
Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.
Until now. Until you.
And that was definitely the tipping point for him.
The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.
“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”
Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.
“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”
“Yeah?”
You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”
Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.
But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.
“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”
You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”
Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”
His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.
“Jae–”
“It’s alright.”
It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.
“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”
“Jae please don’t.”
You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet. You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.
And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.
Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.
Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.
But it mustn’t have been enough.
Because you don’t change your mind.
And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.
Winter five.
It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.
But there’s also that feeling too.
You miss him.
And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.
You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.
Vulnerability.
What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.
Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”
“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.
He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”
He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”
“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.
There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”
Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.
“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”
You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.
“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”
“Dad.”
“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”
Weakness.
Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.
But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?
Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?
You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.
But where do you even begin?
“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.
Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”
You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”
Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”
You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”
“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.
“When is she not?”
“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.
Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.
“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.
You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”
“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”
“Mom still as uptight as ever?”
You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”
“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”
“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”
“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”
You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”
“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”
“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”
Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”
Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.
“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.
“Was it hard leaving home?”
Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”
“Yeah?”
“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.
You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”
Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.
“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”
You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.
“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”
You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”
“Rude.”
“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”
Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”
You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”
Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”
You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”
“Love you.”
When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.
“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.
The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.
Courage.
You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.
What had you accomplished?
“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”
You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.
“You’ve always liked your views.”
Still too close so you keep walking.
“Y/n.”
You freeze. It couldn’t be.
But it really is.
Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.
Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.
Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.
“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.
“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”
If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.
In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.
For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.
The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.
“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.
Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”
“What?” You squint your eyes at him.
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”
Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”
You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”
But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.
Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.
“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.
“Yeah? Enlighten me.”
“I want to paint.”
Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.
When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re right in the place you’re meant to be.
“You are amazing,” he breathes.
“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.
“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”
You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.
“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”
Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”
“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”
“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”
“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”
So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.
“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.
“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.
“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”
In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.
The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.
You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.
And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.
No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.
Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.
“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”
You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.
“I would love to be your date, Jae.”
You were definitely not returning home just yet.
#jaehyun#nct#jeong jaehyun#nct jaehyun#nct 127#nct u#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun drabbles#jaehyun blurbs#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun fic#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#nct fluff#nct au#jaehyun scenario#jaehyun imagine#jaehyun drabble#jaehyun blurb#nct scenario#nct drabble#nct imagine#nct blurb#jung jaehyun#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines
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Character: Shouto Todoroki
Long distance isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Your boyfriend, Shouto, goes overseas on a special mission in America. Back home, you try to take advantage of the distance with a couple of pictures.
Warnings: 18+, phone sex
Word count: 4k
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Shouto watched with somber eyes as you packed the last remaining suitcase into the trunk of the car, back still turned against him so he couldn't see your tears. Bakugou and Izuku insisted on driving to the airport together, taking into consideration that they were all traveling overseas to the same destination. The night before, you were being a stubborn brat, not liking the idea of sending Shouto off at the crack of dawn. He showered you with affection afterward, his body never leaving your touch. Making love didn't cross both of your minds. It would've hurt in the after glow knowing the distance that'll be between you for the months to come. The two of you decided to just lay lifelessly in each other's arms, limbs interlocking, fingers carefully tracing skin, and hearts beating in unison. Moments like that is what truly captured the relationship as a whole.
With your back still turned, Shouto saunters over and wraps his arms around your torso, along with his head resting on top of yours. You hummed at his subtle touch. Eyes drawn to a close, you ruffled his split colored hair, already imagining the smile forming on his stern face. It was always a miracle when you manage to witness Shouto genuinely smile without forcing it.
You turned on your heel and reposition Shouto's hands on your hips. "Call me as soon as you touch down in America. Okay?" you didn't care at how needy you sounded, anything involving Shouto and hero work gave you anxiety.
The arm holding onto your hip soon reached the bottom of your chin, tilting it slightly so your eyes can formally meet. His dark irises became glossy as you stared harder, trying to capture every feature before he leaves in case within those months you forgot what he looks like. Even though you had a separate album on your phone filled to the brim with selfies and funny pictures of him, mostly taking up your storage space.
"I promise sweetheart. Remember, this will be the shortest 6 months you'll endure. I'll be home quicker than you can say All Might," he said, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. The action made you blush and giddy, referring back to the ways he'd make you feel during U.A.
Subconsciously, you both lean in against each other, waiting patiently for who's making the next move. Your lips hovered over his, unsure if he wants to kiss goodbye or stay wrapped in your arms. A minute has gone by and you two stayed cemented in the same position. Fuck it, you thought. Who cares if it'll make you miss each other more. You harshly grabbed his face and leaned forward, preparing your lips to come into contact. But the loud beep emitting from the car made you both jump out of each other's grasp, knocking you backwards onto the cold surface.
Bakugou's head popped out comically from one of the windows, eyes gleaming with rage.
"Oi! Hurry up you dumbasses! We were supposed to leave 5 minutes ago!" he hollered, spit spraying out from this mouth.
You overheard Izuku, who was in the passengers seat, trying to calm down the explosive blonde. A pair of calloused hands slipped behind the back of your neck, crashing your lips to mount another. There's no hunger in the kiss. No teeth or tongue battling it out. Just pure passion burning within the languish kiss. Feeling satisfied, Shouto released himself from your mouth, leaving you breathlessly staring back at him in awe. With one last romantic gesture, your boyfriend rubbed the outer part of your cheek and pinched it between his fingers, smiling at your reddened reaction and shuffled towards the side door of the car.
"I love you y/n," was all he said before sliding the door shut.
You mumbled the exact sentiment as the car revved up and maneuvered out of your driveway. Shortly after wiping away some dried up tears, the car soon disappears from your line of vision, leaving you all alone on the driveway.
“All Might...” you whisper to no one in particular.
-
About 3 months into the trial of long distance, you were already experiencing the symptoms of postpartum-boyfriend-syndrome. Constantly crying yourself to sleep? Check. Going through his Instagram to make sure he didn’t delete any of your pictures together? Check. Texting him every hour on any given day to see how fast he’d respond? Check. Also, the inevitable weight gain from stress eating? Double check.
A couple of your friends noticed the sudden mood change when Shouto arrived in America that first initial month of separation. Momo for example, confronted you in the locker room at the agency one day, spewing about how you almost got yourself decapitated by a villain when your guard was down.
“I’m sorry Momo. My mind has been in the gutter lately. Shouto hasn’t texted me all day since this morning. I’m just worried this whole long distance thing is going to ruin our relationship,” you admitted , wincing at how incredibly clingy you sounded.
Momo began undressing herself, her lips caught between her teeth, clearly taking in what you said. Once she shimmied our from her hero costume, a devilish smirk rested upon her face.
“If you feel like your relationship is going grey, maybe try to spice things up a little. Ya know? Use the distance to your advantage.”
Your hands stopped themselves from unzipping your tight suit. “Hah? What do you mean by that?”
Momo chuckled, amused by how innocent you were acting.
“Come on, you know what I mean y/n,” she slipped on her everyday attire and closed the locker. “You know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.” With that she gave you a wink and left the room.
A picture huh?
Across from you was a massive mirror. Each end reaching the edge of the room, everything being showcased, including you. Sometimes you’d walk in catching a few of the prohero girls taking selfies. They all had one thing in common, confidence. Something you had before Shouto’s departure. It felt as if someone used an ice pick to cut away the very little self esteem you had left, leaving you with barely anything to offer anymore. You couldn’t help to compare yourself to the proheros Shouto has been working alongside with since being in America. American girls were a different breed. Everyone over there looks exactly the same but different somehow. You tried not to think too much as you resumed on unzipping your hero costume. Today you wore a plain black bra set underneath. You hardly put on anything skimpy or sexy since you’re practically on patrol everyday, resorting to your trusty sport bras.
You caught a quick glimpse of yourself in the horizontal mirror, gaping at the added fat in your chest area. All thanks to the weight gain, your boobs looked delicious in the bra. The lower half of your body was nothing to ignore either. Your ass filled up the small undergarments, cheeks teasingly spilling out.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
Momo’s words enticed you enough to grab your cellphone from the pocket of your duffel bag. Work hours was over for everyone in the building, so you weren’t worried about someone walking in on this compromising state.
You tried to mimic the poses you witnessed from the times you watched the girls do it. One hand on the hip, the other behind your head, along with angling your ass to the side. The pose was uncomfortable. How did they manage to hold this stance for longer than ten seconds? You took some pictures anyway, ignoring how awkward you presented yourself in the mirror.
Each picture you swiped through didn’t meet the criteria. Were these even good enough to send off to Shouto? He loves you no matter what, he reminded you everyday in fact, but your stomach dropped of the thought of him being revolted at these images. You quickly deleted all of the them and sighed in defeat. One more try.
Dropping down to your knees, you held the camera above your head, showing off every part of your body. You spread your legs a couple of inches, your cloth slit on full display. To add even more, you leaned forward a little bit to have your boobs almost spilling out from your tight bra. Through the camera lens, the top part of your nipples were visible. Surly Shouto wasn’t dense to not notice.
Your mouth was agape as you stared at the pictures you recently took. This person in the frame didn’t look anything like you. If you were to show this to Momo she’d be a proud mother.
Without hesitation, you sent a couple of the pictures to Shouto, leaving a cute little message at the bottom once they finally delivered.
Missing you extra today :) xoxo
You didn’t wait for his reply and started packing up everything in your area. Hopefully Shouto won’t be angry at your sudden bluntness, but he left you no choice. An acute noise came from your duffle bag. The blood rushing through your veins suddenly became very cold. It must be a message from Shoto, it has to be. You waited till you arrived safely home to check what he responded with. To your dismay, it was a reminder for next weeks meeting. You shuffled out from your car and headed straight to your shared apartment, a pout currently prominent on your face due to the failed mission.
On the other side, Shouto sat stoic in a plush chair listening attentively to one of the leaders reporting about the current mission. Next to him was a grouchy looking Bakugou, who was currently falling in and out of sleep in his seat. By no surprise Izuku was the only one in the group wide awake and full of energy. The trio has been traveling across the nation helping out with smaller hero agencies in hopes for there to be a stronger allegiance between the USA and Japan. So far it’s been excruciatingly draining on not just their bodies but minds as well. All Shoto wants is to feel the familiar warmth of your body pressed against his. His touch starving tendencies wandered into his personal life when Bakugou caught him snuggling the hotel pillows one night, mumbling your name over and over again. Pathetic as it is, he misses you so much. Although, he wouldn’t admit that out loud, he tried to keep you updated on everything that’s been happening. He has a hard time expressing his feelings, especially when it comes to you. So when he felt his bottom pocket vibrate, he half expected it to be a goodnight message from you, since you’re a couple of hours ahead of him. Nothing prepared him for the promiscuous photo you shared of yourself plastered on his screen, looking back at him with dilated eyes and flushed cheeks.
Blood rushed to the lower region of his pants as he pinched the screen to get a better inspection of you. He thought you looked absolutely beautiful in this vulnerable state, not to mention how your body perfectly clings to his favorite pair of underwear, every curve and beauty mark showcasing before him. Below the plethora of lewdness, a short message from you was attached.
Missing you a extra today :) xoxo
Stifling a groan, he began to type out a reply, stumbling on his words even in text. Before he could press send, someone slapped Shouto’s shoulder and dragged him to his feet.
“Come on half cold bastard the meeting is over. We’re free to go,” Bakugou grumbled as he pushes Shouto out of the cramped room, having Midoriya to follow suit. Bakugou shifted his gaze to Shouto’s phone, gazing at the gross nickname for you on the screen. Shouto angles his phone away from Bakugou’s peripheral vision, praying that he didn’t see your half naked body.
Shouto stuffed his cellular device into his back pocket again, awaiting for the right moment to text you back. Knowing the dynamic of the relationship, his silence is nothing out of the ordinary, so maybe you weren’t thinking too much into this.
Hours later and still no reply from Shouto. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you figured he probably hasn’t seen it yet, but the “read at ___” has your heart twisting in a knot. You knew he was a couple of hours behind, but would it take for him to at least send a well thought out compliment. Maybe he’s in the midst of an intense battle? Or worse, hooking up with one of the American colleagues. No, Shoto isn’t like that. Being unfaithful is uncharacteristically unlike Shouto. You mentally slap yourself for painting your loyal boyfriend in a different light, all because of some stupid pictures.
Clearing your mind from anymore self sabotage, you did your nightly routine to get ready for bed. As you tucked yourself in, the bright light from your phone flashed, indicating a notification. Everyone in your contact list has already gone to sleep. Everyone excluding Shouto. Frantically, you reached over to grab the phone, swiping across the screen to view his message. The following text shot daggers through your chest.
Call me now
No mention of the photos you sent hours ago. It took him this long just to conjure up a cryptic message. Although, you were curious to see what he'll say to you once he picks up. You pressed the phone icon on his profile and waited, the ringing making you sweat with anticipation. He answered on the third ring.
There was an uncommon silence hanging in the air. On the other end of the call, you can hear the faint acute breathing coming from your boyfriend. You laid frozen in bed, cowardly holding in your breath to prevent any noise.
Shouto broke the silence and said, "I'm sorry for not texting you all day. There was an immediate emergency that lasted longer than we expected."
You nodded your head, but then caught yourself after realizing he can't see your movement over the phone, and let out a grunt instead.
"So..."
"So?" It came out more aggressive than you wanted it to be, but the constant cat and mouse game of today set you over.
"Are you mad at me?" He asked.
No. Not in a million years could you ever be angry at him. Yes, sometimes there's things he did that you wish he'd do better, like expressing himself instead of sheltering back in his shell. Or the way how you envied the relationships your coworkers had, their partners showing them off like it was second nature. Not once did Shouto verbally express his sexual desires. As selfish as it is, you wanted to explore more with him than just regular mundane vanilla sex. Sadly you knew his response was probably going to be lackluster. But no, you weren't mad, just jealous.
"I'm not mad Shouto. Just...very disappointed in you."
In the background, the definite click of a lock from a door rattled your ears. He's in his hotel room, you thought.
"Is this about what happened earlier today?" he started, dragging his tired feet to the hotel bed. "You know, the pictures-"
"Right, the only pictures I put any effort into just for them to be completely ignored by my own boyfriend."
The line went silent again. Even though he isn't here, if he was, he'd be glaring at you with his intense stare, those bi-colored eyes never wavering away from yours.
"You really want to know how I truly felt about those pictures you sent?" His voice dropped a lower octave, sounding as though he dipped himself in pure molasses. Rich as it is, his sudden change of tone aroused you, sending an involuntary wave of pleasure through your body, tipping to the peak of your sex. The only time you heard him sound like this was either when he's livid to the core or about to completely wreck your shit. Both would coincide with each other on special occasions.
He didn't give you enough time to answer, figuring you were too stubborn to reply, and voiced his inner thoughts.
"The fact that you even think I didn't appreciate the photo's is quite silly sweetheart. In fact," you can hear the clanking of metal on the other end. "It makes me sad that I'm not there to worship every inch of that body. Was that your plan all along? To get me worked up by how much I miss your touch?" Shouto struggled removing his pants, the tent forming beneath them restricting him to smoothly slip them off.
You tried to keep your excitement down by squeezing your legs together, almost to the point where they crossed. Soon your breathing became sporadic. Just picturing Shouto touching himself while you both were on call gave you an adrenaline rush. Knowing you couldn't touch him but just yourself intensified your arousal even more. Slowly, you dragged a lazy finger from your sternum to the area around your belly button, tracing small circles on the skin.
"What would you have done to me if you caught me in that moment? Taking those pictures," your sultry tone boomed through his speakers, almost taken back by your approach.
Shouto raised his hips and shimmed out from his tight work pants and started palming himself through his briefs. "Sweetheart, id do nothing but ravish you. Taking my sweet time with you....fuck...I miss you so much," he couldn't hold back the whine he trapped in his throat as soon as his finger swiped over his clothed slit. The sound alone triggered a warm sensation spreading down below, already feeling the wetness coating your panties. By now, Shouto’s fingers would be disappearing inside of you, scissoring and messaging your velvety walls till you broke out screaming, but you had to make do and resort to playfully teasing yourself.
"Ngh...I miss you too...S-Shoto."
"Are you touching yourself love?"
Both of you were far too gone in arousal, there was no point in holding back your sexual pleas.
"Y-Yes, but I wish it was your fingers instead."
Hearing those words coming from your lips encouraged him to shove his entire hand down his boxers, gripping the base of his cock with ease. A small gasp left his lips feeling the crisp, cold air of the hotel room hit his exposed member. He shifted his hand vertically, giving light tugs to it before pumping it vigorously. The sensation strained him to close his eyes, seeing nothing but you doing the work for him. Late nights in the various hotel rooms consisted of him getting off to memories of all the intimate moments you two shared together. Of course it was lonely, but he never resorted to surfing the internet of lewd videos of random girls. They just weren't you. But tonight, he could finally relieve himself to the sweet ambiance of your moans. And he definitely wasn't going to regret it in the morning like usual.
"Listen to me, go faster for me baby," Shouto instructed, "Imagine it's me touching you."
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, fully coaxing your face in heat. You followed through and dipped your fingers into your sex, feeling the warm texture of your walls petting them. All those months without any sexual relief built up so much tension that the tightness within you restricted from anymore movements. After a few strokes, you loosen and manage to reach in far enough to the peak of your knuckles.
Meanwhile, Shouto's hand never grew tired at the tedious strokes, pre cum dripping till it reached his inner thighs. Your name kept spewing out from his throat like a mantra, like you were the only thing he prayed for at night. Despite his lack of moaning, he grunted with each pump, the built up causing him to breathe heavy as well. Generously, he held the phone close enough for you to hear the continuous slapping of skin, along with the combination of wetness. You didn't restrain yourself from moaning though. Every whimper, moan, and groan reverberated across his empty hotel room.
"You wanna know something?" He tried to keep his breathing at a normal pace, but he hastily kept pumping at quick speed. "Everytime I go to one of those dull meetings, I can't help but to imagine you riding me in front of everyone...ngh!"
The confession elicited a moan from you, along with your legs shaking due to the stimulation. Your head flew back and hit the pile of pillows, mouth agape as you added in another finger.
"I miss the feeling of being inside you. So...fucking...bad,” he was beginning to lose his voice , sounding as though he was in constant pain. Poor boy.
"I never took you as being so up front Shouto, what happened?" You challenged him through the phone.
"I guess you really don't know me baby," Shouto shot up from the bed and bent over, not once removing his hand from his member. "Fuck fuck fuck...I can't wait till I come home, so I can finally taste you."
The coil within you was beginning to snap. Snaking your fingers underneath your shirt, you started flicking your thumb over one of your perked nipples, still immersed into the idea that he's actually the one touching you instead. Toes curling and arms bunching up the sheets, you knew you were about to climax. Just by hearing his speech pattern, you can conclude he was close as well.
"I'm about- I'm about to cum S-Shouto!" You pathetically whine.
"Cum with me baby. I've been holding off for you."
Even during intense moments like this, Shouto's gentleman persona didn't fade away over the course the relationship. With the knowledge you have now, knowing he's been on the verge of relief, you pumped your fingers in sheer brutality, never once missing the g-stop. Throwing his head back, Shouto was now on his knees pleading for mercy from the pleasurable pain shooting up through his member. He let out an exasperated whine.
"Now baby, cum for me."
Then you felt it, the knotted tension within you disappearing. Everything around you looked white, like someone snuck in and painted your room a different color. You can faintly hear Shouto orgasming on the other end of the phone as you calm down from yours. He's heard you climax many times before, but hearing your angelic screams over the speaker made him cum harder.
A few minutes later and you two were now recuperating from the intoxicating session, harsh breathing overlapping each other. It felt like years later when he detached his hand, now coated in his own fluids and cramped up. You loosened yourself and removed the two fingers finally. They glistened with your fluid as well, giving off the impression it was just sweat.
"Y/N? Are you still there?" Shouto's voice alerted you awake, almost forgetting you didn't manifest him to finish you off. You grab the phone after cleaning your drenched fingers and propped it on the pillow next to your shoulder.
"Wow that was-."
"Amazing?" He finishes.
"Took the words right out of my mouth."
He mischievously chuckled, "I know. I heard it loud and clear a minute ago."
You audibly groan loud enough for him to hear while snatching the nearest pillow to smother yourself with.
"So, are you planning on sending any more pictures like that during these last 3 months?"
His innocent inquiry made you break out into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. Those pictures sprouted a future of appraisal from your boyfriend, who you thought would never voice his inner thoughts till the day he dies. You two also found a secretive kink to phone sex as you continue to explore with him during these periods of loneliness. Once he arrives home, he assures none of that is just a “phase” as you two kept venturing beyond to sext each other during important events.
A picture really is worth a thousand words.
-
(Truthfully, honestly, this is possibly the worst thing I wrote but someone asked for a cute little passionate session with Shoto specifically. I hope you enjoyed (?)
#mha imagines#mha#boku no hero academia#shoto todoroki#mha shoto#shoto x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki x y/n#shoto x y/n#shoto todoroki smut#shoto smut#mha smut#mha x reader#shoto todoroki imagine#shouto headcanons#shouto x reader#shouto todoroki#shouto x y/n#shouto smut#shouto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki smut#shouto todoroki x you
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(未定事件簿) 夏彦 SR [忆中人]
[Tears of Themis] Xia Yan SR [Reminiscent Person] Card Story Translations (Part 3)
*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist
*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut
*Xia Yan’s personal tag will be #Tears of a PI. Personal master-list under construction!
*Only the messages left before I start Mo Yi’s new Fairytale SR...
(*´艸｀*)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / SMS
Location: Staff Lounge
The lights came back on again, and I found myself standing in the Staff Lounge.
The Gamemaster that had disappeared earlier was facing me, all smiles.
Gamemaster: Hello young miss, it's been quite a while. I waited a really long time for you two to split up.
MC: So that was you. You really scared the living daylights out of me just now.
Gamemaster: I didn't have much of a choice; I had to take the chance to steal you away.
MC: So, what exactly is being tested in this segment?
He gave me an inscrutable smile.
Gamemaster: Didn’t you guys already find the slip of paper? What did it say?
MC: Find me, take me… You mean, he’s supposed to find me?
Gamemaster: That’s right. We'll dress you up to look like the Staff to see if that boyfriend of yours can recognize and single you out from the rest.
Gamemaster: Okay, we're running short of time, so hurry and get changed in the changing room.
Waiting inside the changing room was a veil along with a matching dress with a couple of skull-like ornaments hanging from it…
It looked like something right out of the "Corpse Bride"; a movie that was more popular during this period.
The only difference from the movie was that this veil was very heavy.
After putting it on, the black veil that hung in front of my eyes made it hard to make out what was in front of me.
MC: This… is really opaque...
MC: I think I'll be better off holding it first...
After changing into the "costume" with ease, I walked out of the changing room, only to see five other girls of similar build to me, all warning the same outfit.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: In the Secret Room
The Staff Member opened another one of the Lounge's doors. It was clearly obvious that it led to another, completely new room.
MC: Why does this place have that many rooms...
Gamemaster: It's something that I painstakingly designed myself to utilize every single bit of space available here.
Gamemaster: Plus, this house didn't exactly come cheap either.
Putting the veil on, I lined up with the rest of the girls, mimicking their posture with my back to the door.
Gamemaster: Now young miss, you cannot move or make any sound from now on.
Gamemaster: You have to listen closely to me from now on.
MC: Okay. Rest assured; you have my full cooperation.
After thoroughly warning me a couple more times, the Staff Member opened a door that led to a corridor.
Xia Yan's rapid footsteps sounded closer and closer to the room.
Xia Yan: (Y/n)? Is that you? Are you here?
His tone was filled with worry, but I could not reply.
Gamemaster: Congratulations, Mister. You and your bride have already reached the last stage of the Cursed Castle.
Gamemaster: Please choose a bride to take with you. The curse will only be unraveled if you pick the right bride.
Xia Yan released the deep breath that he had been holding, his entire body seemingly relaxing from its former tenseness, only his voice held the slightest bit of shakiness.
Xia Yan: That's great. I was really worried about you just now even though I know that this must also be part of the game line-up.
I could only judge his current position from where his voice came from since I had my back facing him.
But I had an odd feeling that Xia Yan was currently looking straight in my direction.
MC: (I think I'm overthinking things. There's no way he'd be able to tell who's who from this far away, right…?)
MC: (Not to mention how we're all wearing such a long veil…)
Gamemaster: Sir, you can stand 5 meters away from these few brides to observe them closely…
Gamemaster: You can order them to do something, but it cannot be to turn around or to remove their veil.
Xia Yan: No need. I don't require them to do anything.
Xia Yan: Can I go over now?
Gamemaster: Have you already decided? You only have but one chance.
Xia Yan: Of course. I'm very certain of my choice.
My heart started beating more and more fiercer the closer Xia Yan stepped towards me.
My hand was grabbed tightly by his, and I could feel the heat coming from the palm of his hand.
Gamemaster: Since you've already come to a decision, then how about you ask the bride to turn around?
He exerted a little force on his arm, forcefully turning me the other way around.
But the veil covering my eyes was lifted before I was able to make a full turn.
I was caught off guard as everything before my eyes suddenly came into clear focus again.
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I was caught off guard as everything before my eyes suddenly came into clear focus again.
Reflexively, I looked back at the person behind me under the dim light.
A pair of eyes sparkling with absolute mirth entered my field of vision.
He leaned down, inching closer to the cover of the veil, his warm breath fanning out on my face.
MC: Xia… Xia Yan…
The heavy veil obscured the figure of another, who was standing beside him. He was the one and only person in my world at this moment in time.
Xia Yan: Found you; my bride.
MC: ……
I was acutely aware of the fact that this whole “bride” business was only a part of the game’s story, but yet, I couldn’t help the blush that adorned my face as it heated up.
Those two words were just like little fawns, messing up my already restless heart even more.
Xia Yan: I told you that I'd definitely find you.
This moment saw his eyes filled with absolute seriousness and resolution.
He resembled a knight from the fairy tales I'd read back when I was a kid, solemnly vowing to the princess.
MC: How… How did you recognize me?
I stumbled over my words before eventually finding my voice.
He paused for a moment, as if he didn't expect me to throw such a question at him.
Xia Yan: Why wouldn't I?
MC: I had my back to you and the veil is so long...
He grinned at that.
Xia Yan: Because you're you!
Xia Yan: Your face, your voice, your silhouette; I’ve already committed them to memory.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
"Because you're you!"
“Your face, your voice, your silhouette; I’ve already committed them to memory.”
Those two lines continued repeating themselves in my mind all the way till we walked out of the room.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: Rest Area
Xia Yan: What's on your mind, (Y/n)?
MC: Oh, nothing! I was just lost in my thoughts.
Xia Yan: Come on, hurry up! The Store Owner’s calling us over!
The Staff Member dressed in the black swallowtail coat from earlier was beckoning us from afar.
Xia Yan dragged me along while I was still caught up in a daze.
Xia Yan: Mr. Gamemaster! I never thought that you’d be the owner of this establishment.
Owner: What, can’t the owner take customer feedback?
Xia Yan: Of course not; it was just a little surprising.
Owner: Haha, the both of you cleared it way too quickly that you’ve even broken the highest record to be recorded in establishment.
Owner: Our Store will customize a special gift as a prize for you guys.
MC: A customized gift? What kind?
Owner: Let's keep this a secret first. You'll know once you come fetch it.
Owner: Come, come. The two of you should take a picture together in commemoration.
We both stood before the camera at the owner’s warm insistence.
Owner: What are the two of you being all shy for? Get closer! How about you hold your boyfriend’s hand, young lady?
MC: Oh, er…okay, sure…
I held onto Xia Yan’s hand a little awkwardly. Well, we did sign up for this challenge as a couple after all.
Owner: Do something, strike a pose, anything. It’s not like you’re taking a wedding photo or anything, so why are you standing so straight like that?
Xia Yan: *Coughs* W-Wedding...photo…?
Xia Yan started coughing, a blush on his face, almost as if he had been choked by his own saliva.
I reached a hand out towards him, attempting to help him catch his breath.
Snap!
And that was how this somewhat comical moment got recorded on camera.
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A week later.
Location: Coffee Shop
The day where we’d arranged to meet with the Experience Hall’s Owner arrived, and Xia Yan and I decided to go receive our prize together.
Coincidentally, Li Xu, Xia Yan’s Client, wanted to thank Xia Yan for his work, so we decided to meet him in a nearby coffee shop.
Li Xu: Hello, Xia Yan, Miss (Y/n).
Li Xu was sitting alone in a corner of the Coffee Shop. Upon seeing us enter, he nodded and gestured towards us.
Xia Yan: How was it?
Li Xu: Thanks to the information you’ve given me, I prepared for an entire week ever since I got my hands on the questions and memorized every segment a good many times over.
Li Xu: I even went and watched lots of videos on “guess the drawing” and “Charades”, but it was still pretty tough, in the end.
Li Xu: Thankfully, I managed to hold out till the time limit was over and passed it.
MC: (Why does he sound like he’s describing his finals instead…?)
Xia Yan: It’s great that everything went well. Now, I can report back the good results.
MC: Report?
Xia Yan: Yup. Didn’t I tell you before that he is… a relative of an acquaintance of mine?
Li Xu: Thank you for helping me, Detective Xia. I’d never have made it past that challenge alone...
None of us were aware of the person who had been seated at the table behind him, nor for how long said person had been present.
And it was this exact same moment that the girl seated behind him suddenly stood up, coming up straight before him.
???: You liar! So, you hired a Detective!? Our Tacit Understanding between each other was all just a lie!? That detective was helping you behind the scenes!?
Li Xu: J-Jia Jia? What are you doing here?
???: Never thought that I’d turn up here now, did you? And here I was wondering why you’d come to a place like this that’s so far away from your home...
???: You liar! I’ll never believe you again!
Seeing his girlfriend about to leave, Li Xu hurriedly stood up and grabbed onto her hand.
Li Xu: No, listen to me...
The way that Li Xu stuttered simply went to show that he was very guilty about it, thus confirming the suspicions that the girl before him harbored in her heart.
She flung his arm away, picking up the bag that she had left atop her chair and made to leave.
Seeing how she was determined to leave, Xia Yan and I both shot out of our seats.
MC: Miss, you’re really misunderstanding Mr. Li.
MC: He did hire the Detective, but the Tacit Understanding between the two of you isn’t fake.
???: Who are you and on what basis am I to believe what you’re saying?
Xia Yan: Hello, miss. My name’s Xia Yan, I’m the Detective who’s in charge of this investigation.
Xia Yan: And this is my assistant, (Y/n).
???: I’m Deng Jia, his girlfriend.
Deng Jia glared at Li Xu as she spoke.
And Xia Yan hurriedly attempted to help Li Xu explain himself.
Xia Yan: Li Xu only wanted me to investigate and see what the game itself entails. All I did was to tell him the possible questions that might be asked.
Xia Yan: He derived all the answers to those questions on his own.
Deng Jia looked at Li Xu a little suspiciously.
Deng Jia: You didn’t ask this detective to find out what my habits and my likes and dislikes are?
Li Xu: Of course not, why would I!?
Li Xu’s eyes widened in shock at the accusation.
Deng Jia: So you spent the money to hire this detective, all just to find out the contents of the game? Who in their right mind would do such a lose-lose transaction?
Li Xu: No… My cousin’s a friend of Detective Xia’s...
Xia Yan: I didn’t take any money from him; I only helped a friend, who came to me with a request, out.
Listening to Li Xu going round in circles about the matter, Xia Yan couldn’t do anything but to cut in and interrupt him.
The girl’s fury simmered down quite a bit after hearing the explanation, but she still harbored a few suspicions.
Deng Jia: Even if that’s the case… What you did was still a hasty effort made at the last minute.
Xia Yan appeared somewhat clueless as to how to carry on with the conversation, shooting me pleading look for help.
I sighed, turning to explain it all to Deng Jia patiently.
MC: Miss, calm down and think about it. He could have asked you about your likes and dislikes beforehand...
MC: But things like habits are very trivial and small, so not even a Detective can find out about all your little quirks in the mere span of a few days.
MC: Besides, the memories you two share are complex, so how would he remember all of it, if he didn’t make the extra effort to notice everything that went on?
MC: And, even if he did prepare all of those in-time, then what about the last segment where he had to choose a bride? How, then, would he be able to cheat?
Deng Jia seemed to have remembered something, her expression slightly faltering.
Li Xu stood dumbly by the side, rooted to his spot, rubbing a hand over his arm that hung by his side.
MC: So, how about you here what Mr. Li has to say, Miss?
Deng Jia pursed her lips, silently looking at Li Xu.
Li Xu breathed a deep sigh before finally raising his head and fixing her with a serious look.
Li Xu: I didn’t cheat; I remember all your habits and your likes and dislikes very clearly.
Li Xu: I also remember that it’s been 3 years since the first time we met. The first time you ever talked to me was to ask if you could borrow a pen of mine, and that we went for barbeque the first time we ever went out for a meal together...
Li Xu: The first time we ever went out together alone was to the Library, and the place where you agreed to be my girlfriend was the second tree to the left downstairs of your house...
Deng Jia: Okay… Okay, enough! I get it.
Listening to his chain of silly, yet absolutely direct confessions, Deng Jia’s cheeks reddened.
Even the anger that she had harbored in her voice steadily disappeared.
Deng Jia: If you’re not afraid of being tested, then why look to a Detective for help?
Li Xu: Only because I wasn’t sure if you’d be unhappy or dissatisfied with me after playing this game…
Li Xu: I don’t want you to be mad, but I was afraid that you’d ignore me after, just like the other couples who’ve gone through this; so I did my homework in advance.
Li Xu: I know that I can’t speak very well since I’m a bookworm, so all I can do to make you happy is to study things up in advance.
Li Xu said everything in all but a single breath, looking as if he had used up all his confidence to convey that.
He lowered his head but couldn’t withstand the urge to secretly peak up at his girlfriend.
And it was at this moment, that all of Deng Jia’s anger vanished into thin air.
Deng Jia: I… I…
Her face was red and she looked a little shy about it.
Deng Jia: It wasn’t in my intention to put you to the test. It hasn’t been long since we got together, so it’s normal if you don’t understand me all that well.
Deng Jia: You’re always very quiet, so I thought that maybe we could learn more about each other through this game.
Deng Jia: I never thought… That you’d actually still remember things from that long ago.
Her face gradually reddened as she stepped forwards and grabbed onto Li Xu’s sleeve.
Seeing that, Xia Yan and I quietly took our leave from the coffee shop.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: Downtown
We both heaved a huge sigh of relief upon stepping out of the coffee shop.
MC: I thought that they were really going to fight and break up right then and there, but it was thankfully only a false alarm.
Xia Yan: Yeah, if his girlfriend was truly mad, then I’d only have brought him more trouble than help.
MC: Thankfully, Deng Jia doesn’t seem like an unreasonable person either.
MC: But I feel like Li Xu’s stepping on eggshells way too much around her; it’s almost as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing...
Xia Yan: Actually, Li Xu told me that he had been harboring a crush on her for nearly 3 years now and finally confessed after no longer being able to keep it a secret any longer back when he first came to me with this job.
Xia Yan: He honestly never thought that his revered goddess would agree to dating him, so he always feels as if he’s unworthy of having such a girlfriend.
MC: So that’s why he’s being so careful around her? Fearing that he might say something wrong, or do something wrong?
Xia Yan: That’s how it is...
Xia Yan spread his hands and shrugged at that, sighing helplessly.
Xia Yan: And that’s precisely why I didn’t want to take any money from him for this. Anything and everything he wanted me to look into was clearly only to allow himself to have some assurance and an easier peace of mind.
Xia Yan: Although, I can understand where he’s coming from.
Xia Yan: Who wouldn’t hesitate and waver before their most favorite person in the world?
Xia Yan: It’s only because he’s way too concerned about how they’d think that he turned to self-doubting.
Xia Yan’s voice sounded a little off, but he didn’t show any hints of there being something wrong when I turned to look at him.
It was as though he had just been thinking about the matter with utter seriousness.
MC: But he’ll only be missing out on more of the beautiful things if he’s walking on eggshells that much.
MC: They’d be unable to pass the stage either, if Deng Jia didn’t understand him well enough.
Xia Yan: It’s unfortunate, but apparently, Li Xu didn’t seem to notice that fact.
MC: Li Xu was all caught up about whether or not he was worthy of his girlfriend that he neglected what his girlfriend really wanted; a companion to accompany her.
Xia Yan: Yeah, he ended up ignoring the most important thing… Which was what his partner truly wanted.
Xia Yan halted in his footsteps, quietly looking at me, eyes full of smiles.
MC: What? Why are you suddenly staring at me?
Xia Yan: Nothing! Let’s hurry and get our prize!
I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but Xia Yan’s tone sounded much lighter, and much more carefree than how it was just now.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: Experience Hall Front Desk
Owner: You’re here now, are you? Your prize is already finished.
Upon entering the store, the Owner walked towards us with a smile, a small box in his hands.
MC: Is this our prize?
Owner: Yup, hurry, open it up and have a look at it.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Xia Yan took the paper box from the Owner and slowly opened it.
Sitting quietly within the box was a pair of exquisite dolls. They were about palm-sized and were made in Chibi style.
MC: Oh… Are these… Dolls of us?
There were two dolls, a girl and a boy, both with happy smiles on their faces.
And the color of their clothes was exactly the same as the outfits that Xia Yan and I had previously worn here.
Owner: That’s right, this was made according to both of your appearances.
Xia Yan: No wonder you insisted that we take a photo together. So, it was for the sake of making these dolls.
Owner: How are they? Do you like them?
MC: Yes, I do! I honestly never thought that these would be what we’re getting; thank you Owner!
Xia Yan: I really like them too. Sorry for troubling you with making these.
After chatting with the Owner for a bit, Xia Yan and I left the Experience Hall.
Before we left, the Owner beamed at us and told us that he hoped we’d come by again once they had another theme rotation.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: Downtown
The sun was already sinking westward when we walked out of the mall, the light of the setting sun filling the streets.
MC: The sunset’s really beautiful today.
Xia Yan and I both unconsciously stopped to quietly admire the beauty of this short-lived scene.
Xia Yan: Right, you should take the pair of dolls home.
Xia Yan: You’ll be able to see me every day upon returning home if you place them against the headboard of your bed.
His smile appeared much warmer under the light of the setting sun.
His smile was contagious, for I found myself smiling along with him in no time at all.
MC: No can’t do! I can’t take them with me if that’s how it’s going to be.
Xia Yan paused, doubt flickering across his features.
Xia Yan: Why…? Do you not like them?
MC: Of course, I do.
MC: But I can only take one of them home. I’ll entrust my doll to you!
MC: You can put it on your nightstand; that way, I’ll also be accompanying you!
Xia Yan: M’kay.
The fiery red sun was slowly entering the cluster or clouds up in the sky, and before we knew it, there were a couple more people around us stopping to admire the scene.
Xia Yan: I've actually also had my own share of worries, just like Li Xu, about whether we'll be able to successfully re-connect with each other.
Xia Yan: Is 8 years apart really… Have I missed too much of your life in my absence?
Thinking back to all the questions I had gotten wrong back in the Maze, I let out a helpless sigh.
MC: We've really grown and changed in those 8 years.
MC: But thankfully, we're still the same as how we left off, despite having changed so much.
Xia Yan: Thankfully, we're still the only ones who know each other the best.
MC: Hey, Xia Yan? You should really tell me more about your life during these 8 years whenever you have the time.
Xia Yan: Sure. I want to hear what you've gone through too.
☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆
Location: Xia Yan's House
Xia Yan had only just gotten home when his phone rang.
Taking out his phone, a familiar number entered his sight.
Xia Yan: Hello? What’s up, Brother Yang?
Yang Xiao: Nothing; Li Xu asked me to convey his thanks to you.
Xia Yan: Don’t make me take up jobs like this ever again… This time’s the only exception so don’t make an example out of it!
Yang Xiao: I don’t want to bother you either, but I really didn’t have any options this time!
Yang Xiao: I can’t not help my distant cousin if he needs help; I even held him in my arms and played with him when he was little!
Yang Xiao: Come find me if you encounter any trouble. Looking at how caught up you always get, I owe you one, and we're also pretty similar to boot.
Xia Yan gave a wry laugh at Yang Xiao’s merciless teasing.
Xia Yan: Stop making fun of me, Brother Yang.
Yang Xiao: Anyway, thank you for this time; seriously.
Xia Yan: No need to be so humble. Honestly speaking, I should be the one thanking you instead.
Hanging up the phone, he picked up the gift from the Experience Hall.
The exquisite doll laid quietly in his hands, the brilliant smile on its face was exactly the same as hers.
Xia Yan looked at the masterpiece in his hands tenderly, a smile playing on his lips.
Xia Yan: Let us slowly make up for the 8 years that we've missed.
——𝔉𝔦𝔫.——
#Tears of Themis#Xia Yan#Translations#Otome#Mihoyo#未定事件簿#夏彦#忆中人#Reminiscent Person#午夜华章#Symphony of the Night#Tears of a PI#Okamoto Nobuhiko
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to the moon and to saturn - chapter two
spencer reid x fem!reader
navigation and summary
there is a version of this story featuring my oc sara on my wattpad and ao3!
word count: 3,559
content warnings: alcohol mentions
previous chapter | next chapter
betty
spencer has a recurring dream about her. in this dream, it’s y/n’s 18th birthday. his brain doesn’t know what she looks like past age seven, so dream-y/n has her youthful face on an adult body. her eyes crinkle at the edges when she smiles. she’s holding a birthday cake that’s covered in lit candles. there’s no indication that spencer baked the pink, sloppily-frosted cake, but in his dream, he knows he did.
she holds the cake out towards him. “make a wish, spencer,” she says, her voice sounding far away and warbled. “it’s not my birthday, love,” he insists, swiping some of the frosting and brushing it across her cheek.
she grins and sets the cake down on the round table in front of her. “sure, but i want to share mine with you.” she pulls out a box, gift wrapped in bright yellow paper with a large blue bow on top. he always wakes up before he can ever open it.
he gets this dream once a month without fail. it’s pathetic, he thinks. he hasn’t even seen y/n in twenty years. he’s doesn’t even know her, to be frank. and yet he thinks about her constantly. he---and his therapist, of course---chalk this up to the abandonment he felt when she never came back. she didn’t even say goodbye. spencer thinks about this often, wondering if it was his fault. he wonders if any or all of the horrible things he’s been through have been his fault. his sick brain tells him yes, yes they are.
often, when spencer thinks of y/n, he imagines her in some incredible life. a spy, maybe. he knows it’s unlikely that she’s a princess or bank robber now, but he doesn’t put it past her. he doesn’t have enough memories of her, so every play-pretend game they played as children supplements what he knows about her, creating at least some whole adult person for him to fantasize about. she’s become almost a fictional character in the movie of his life. he wishes that they weren’t estranged, wishes that he could know the real y/n instead of whatever caricature of her he’s created. even if she actually was a bank robber. he just wants to know.
wait. he just wants to know.
spencer is lounged on his couch, cardigan long tossed aside, tie long undone. he’s been home from work for a few hours now, an easy paperwork day cutting his day short. he takes half of a second to make his decision, then pulls out his phone.
------
“i need you to look someone up for me,” y/n says nonchalantly, flicking through a cheesy magazine. they’re laying on penelope’s bed, tv in the other room playing a rerun episode of “the office” just loud enough for them to hear. penelope has one hand in a bowl of popcorn, and one on her laptop scrolling mindlessly through some geeky website y/n can’t comprehend.
y/n had seen spencer that evening on her way to penelope’s house. at least she thought she did. y/n was stopped at a red light, staring straight ahead at the crosswalk before her. living in a decently populated city, there were always fun characters crossing the street, and while y/n had once been in awe of the medley of people living in dc, she’d become used to it, and stopped paying attention. at red lights, she usually takes time to relax, letting her eyes glaze over before the switch to green and the restart of traffic. but before she could check out for her 15 seconds of a mental break, she saw a long haired figure hunched over a book, crossing the street directly in front of her car.
granted, y/n hasn’t seen spencer in twenty years. she has no clue what he looks like nowadays, but everything from his ray bradbury book to his lanky frame to his beat up converse was familiar. her eyes clung to him, desperate to catch a glimpse of his face, but it never came. and y/n felt like she was going crazy. of all the places in the world, there’s no way that spencer reid’s life path had taken him all the way from nevada to the exact same city she lived in.
but she didn’t have to wonder, or anxiously await the next time she saw the man by chance, because her best friend was a techy genius and no one could hide from her. y/n decided then, at that red light, that she’d ask penelope to find spencer, something she couldn’t even picture herself wanting just thirty seconds earlier.
y/n’s attempt at casually bringing the topic up is futile, because a.) penelope garcia is a very nosy woman, and b.)....penelope garcia is a very nosy woman. in all of the best ways. “who?” she inquires excitedly, halting all motion that could distract her from this very important conversation.
“it’s kind of a long story,” y/n says, closing her magazine and sitting up. she crosses her legs, a seating pose that indicates that she’s devoting everything to explaining this to penelope. “so, when i was really little, there was this boy…”
and the suspense is killing penelope. y/n’s launched into this whole story about blanket forts, and being young, and blah blah blah whatever, but she’s not giving up her male protagonist’s name. penelope has her hands poised at her keyboard, ready to give y/n a location, occupation, and criminal record in less than 30 seconds, but she just needs to know his name. y/n talks, and talks, and talks, and penelope, as the good friend and listener she is, doesn’t interrupt once except to ask a question.
(“so your mom was sleeping with his dad?”
“yes! my own mother! i know, right?”)
y/n’s oblivious to the fact that penelope is on the edge of her seat, hanging on her every single word, just waiting, waiting, agonizingly waiting for a name.
“once, i even put jell-o down a girl’s shirt for this kid,” y/n laughs. “it was cherry flavored, i’ll never forget. my first badass moment.” she stops her story with a shared chuckle, and a silence settles over the two women for a moment.
“so, did you want me to find this prince charming, or…” penelope waggles her fingers over her keyboard as to emphasize her point.
“oh! yeah! his name is-----”
penelope’s phone rings, and they let out a frustrated groan in unison. y/n flops back into her laying down position, knowing that when penelope’s phone rings, it almost never bodes well for wine nights.
----------
“garcia!” spencer greets as soon as she answers.
“as much as i’m excited to hear from my favorite doctor-profiler-boy-genius, i wonder to what do i owe this pleasure?” penelope glances over at y/n, who has already found her way back into her cosmopolitan magazine.
“hey, i was wondering if you could look someone up for me. i know technically it’s not ethical but---”
“do you have a name for me, wonder boy?” penelope asks. she’s not waiting a second longer for him to spill, lest she gets trapped in yet another long-winded backstory.
“uh, yeah. y/n y/l/n. she---,” spencer speaks, and is immediately transferred to hold, with a short and excited “wait!” from garcia. sure, she feels bad for cutting him off twice now during the short span of their phone call, but this? this is major.
“y/n, tell me his name is spencer reid,” penelope says, voice coming out rushed and full of eagerness.
y/n’s eyes go wide. penelope was really good at her job. she got his name just from her little jell-o story? “yeah, it is, pen!” y/n laughs. “what’s he up to these days?”
penelope covers the receiver of her phone even though spencer was on hold and couldn’t hear her anyways. “he’s on the phone with me! we work together! we’re like, super close! y/n!” penelope is emphasizing her words with crazy hand gestures, the clinking of her bracelets serving as enthusiastic punctuation.
y/n doesn’t really know how to respond to this information. “he’s FBI?” she asks, stupidly.
“that is so far beyond the point!” penelope exclaims. “he’s the guy i was texting you about earlier today, the one i wanted to set you up with!”
y/n, with a big goofy grin on her face, tosses a piece of popcorn at her head, watching as it gets stuck in one of her ponytails. “take him off of hold, penny!” excitement courses through her veins. she had seen him earlier. what are the odds?
spencer paces anxiously in his apartment. she’d dead. y/n is dead, and garcia’s trying to find the best way to tell him. that’s why she put him on hold, he knows. there’s a crackle in the phone, and garcia’s voice rings through the speaker. “spencer?” she asks, making sure he’s still on the line. there’s giggling on her end, pulling him to the conclusion that whatever garcia was about to say, at least y/n’s not dead.
“yeah, garcia?” spencer says, too on edge to say more than a few words at a time.
“i’ve got probably a million and one things to tell you about a certain y/n y/l/n,” garcia says, voice mischievous. on her end, there’s a squawk of protest followed by some shuffling.
spencer waits patiently, and then garcia’s voice is back. “i’ve got her right here with me, actually.”
spencer, overwhelmed with nerves, hangs up immediately.
“he hung up!” penelope screams, and the two women burst into laughter. penelope’s hunched over at her laptop, cackling.
“i can’t believe he hung up,” y/n says through her fit of giggles.
“you have to come to our work get-together this weekend and see him, y/n. spencer’s hosting!” penelope says.
“he clearly doesn’t want to talk to me,” y/n says jokingly, and they laugh again. not at the boy, but at the scenario. “also, no! no ‘get-togethers.’ you know i don’t do parties.”
------
y/n’s on her way to the party. it took all of 15 seconds for penelope to convince her to be her plus-one. all she had to do is say the words “casual” and “wine” and y/n was in. she tried to ignore the fact that it would just be penelope’s coworkers, one of them being her estranged best friend, and her. at spencer’s apartment, nonetheless. it was bound to be awkward, but y/n tried to focus less on that and more on how excited penelope was to introduce her to spencer. re-introduce her, rather.
penelope offered to drive y/n to alleviate some of her nerves, and y/n accepted graciously. neither one of them had talked about spencer since the phone call, except for penelope casually mentioning that spencer hadn’t brought up y/n to her at work at all. they’d all spent the week in limbo, then. the drive to spencer’s apartment is generally silent, penelope jumping in with words of affirmation every so often, if not to calm y/n then just to make her laugh. y/n’s leg bounces as she looks out of the window of penelope’s car.
when they arrive, after penelope’s parked, she turns to y/n. “y/n. you are colorful, beautiful, perfect, and every other nice word i can think of. everything will be fine. but if, by some odd, unpredictable chance, everything is not fine, say the word and we will be out of there faster than you can say ‘penny.’” y/n pulls her into a tight hug, and penelope can feel her heart beating.
“what if he just tells me to, like, fuck off?” y/n murmurs.
“reid would never. he could never,” penelope says. with that reassurance, they get out of her car and head up to the party.
-------
y/n stares at spencer’s front door as penelope knocks. the paint on it is chipping, she notes. spencer swings open the door and hoots erupt through the apartment.
“garcia’s here!”
“hey, garcia!”
“babygirl!”
everyone’s calling for her, so she snakes past spencer and into his home with a pat on his chest. he’s stuck in the doorway and y/n’s stuck in the hall. neither of them know what to say to each other, so they’re sticking to intense eye contact and nervous foot shuffling. y/n’s here, at his apartment. he’s shocked. she’s real, she’s here, and here is his apartment.
“you look the same,” they say at the same time, and then, at the absurdity of the situation, they laugh together. y/n, feeling empowered by the diffusion of the tension, wraps her arms around him in a hug. he’s broad, she notes. he hugs her tightly, holding on a second too long as compensation for the fact that he’d never know when their last hug had been their last.
“come in, come in,” spencer says. as he’s ushering her inside, hand against her lower back, he speaks again. y/n’s acutely aware of his coworkers eyes on her, but she’s distracted by his voice. “did you know that we begin to forget childhood memories while we’re in childhood still? younger children remember 60 percent of early life events, and that goes down by 20 percent in just a year or two.”
“hmm, so it’s weird that you remember me, then?” y/n teases as he hands her a glass of white wine.
“well, i don’t, really,” he admits, and y/n hums in agreement against the rim of her drink.
penelope calls y/n over to where she’s sitting and introduces her to the team. y/n takes notes. penelope never really combines her work and her play, telling y/n it’s to keep her safe, so y/n revels in this insight into her best friend’s life.
jj, the pretty blonde, seems to be the glue of the group, y/n judges. emily’s guarded, but fun, and y/n sees a lot of herself in her. derek is penelope’s favorite, y/n knows, and it’s not hard to figure out why. he’s attractive, but more than that, he’s charismatic and intelligent. y/n can’t get a good read on hotch, but she likes him well enough. rossi’s her favorite, though, his laidback, cool demeanor just mysterious enough to pique her curiosity. y/n greets everyone with a warm hello and a short introduction, and finds her place at penelope’s side.
she’s out of place for sure, but the team tries their hardest to include her. they’ve got great chemistry as a group, and y/n wins their favor when she cracks a dry joke that gets everyone laughing. she can feel spencer’s eyes on her the whole night, but she doesn’t indulge him by looking back. she’s too nervous. he keeps her glass filled all night, a gracious host, and when she thanks him each time he gives her a shaky smile. he’s nervous too, she realizes.
when people start filtering out, y/n realizes she’d hardly spoken to spencer all night, save for some light small talk with others. she’d really like to get him alone, but she doesn’t want to overstep. spencer looks at her intently when she stands to leave with garcia. he wants to get her alone, but he doesn’t want to overstep. be bold, spencer, he thinks. it’s just y/n. but it’s not just y/n anymore. they aren’t kids anymore, blindly bonded to one another out of convenience. there’s nothing tying them together anymore except for some flimsy memories, and this scares spencer. y/n’s also insanely beautiful. this adds to his nerves. it’s not too often he has a pretty girl in his apartment alone.
“you can stay longer if you want, y/n. i’ll drive you home,” spencer says, his words surprising even himself. his eyebrows furrow and y/n wants to smooth the crease in his forehead with her thumb.
“okay,” she says softly, turning to penelope. “i’ll see you tomorrow, pen?” they embrace, and penelope says her bright goodbyes. when she leaves, y/n leans against the closed front door, staring at spencer expectantly.
“do you want another drink?” he asks her, unsure of what to do with his hands.
“no, i think i’m sufficiently tipsy-adjacent,” y/n jokes, placing her hands decidedly on spencer’s shoulders. “i think you and i should talk.”
“yeah,” spencer replies, his amber eyes searching hers. “we can sit outside.” he leads her to his balcony, and takes a seat on his outdoor couch.
“it looks like it might rain,” y/n says lamely, sitting next to him, close enough for their thighs to touch.
“did you know women are more likely to give a man their phone number on a sunny day rather than a cloudy one? there’s only a 14% success rate when it’s rainy, as opposed to a 22% success rate when the sun’s out.”
“that’s interesting, spencer. were you planning on asking for my number?” y/n asks jokingly. spencer flushes at the question, stammering a defense. “just kidding. you sure do know a lot of stuff, don’t you?”
“sure,” he says with a bite of his lip. “i have three phds. what i don’t know, though, is where you went when you left vegas. or why you left vegas. or…”
“or why i didn’t tell you i was leaving?” y/n finishes for him. he gives a small nod, embarrassed to admit how much it affected him, and y/n frowns. she lays the palm of her hand against his face, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. spencer’s taken aback by the affectionate action, but leans into her touch anyways. y/n holds that position for a minute, surveying his features. she’s not ready to tell him the story, honestly. it’s humiliating. save from the fact that her mom essentially ruined his parents’ marriage; she didn’t know the nature of spencer’s relationship with his father now. for all she knows, it’d done a complete 180 in the past 20 years, and she’d ruin everything with her anecdote. no, she couldn’t risk this. spencer looked too pretty under the moonlight, was too nice to her tonight.
“would you be mad if i didn’t want to talk about that yet?” she asks, tracing her finger down the bridge of his nose. spencer feels a little relieved by this. he’s prepared for that conversation to be a heavy one, prepared for her to say she left because of him. because he wasn’t good enough for her. he doesn’t think he can handle that confirmation tonight, so he welcomes the change in subject.
“can we just...start over?” spencer says.
y/n nods. “hi, i’m y/n,” she holds her hand out to shake, finally removing it from against his face. spencer takes it with a small smile.
“i’m spencer,” he replies. they sit in silence for a while, watching the stars. the moment is long, but it feels like they’re suspended in time. like the cars and people underneath them have come to a standstill. spencer reckons y/n’s always had that effect on him, but the hustle of the city disappearing around him makes it much more pronounced. spencer steals a quick glance at her. she looks so serene. he wonders if she’s thinking as much as he is, or if she’s simply appreciating the city sounds and night air.
“are you thinking as much as i am?” y/n pipes up, breaking the silence.
spencer shakes his head incredulously with a chuckle. “you took the words right out of my mouth.”
y/n turns to face him, pulling her knees to her chest. “tell me a story. like you used to.” when spencer’s gaze meets hers, y/n’s hand moves to tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear, the movement nearly involuntary. there’s a low rumble of thunder, but it sounds far away.
“okay,” spencer says, neither one of them breaking eye contact. he remembers her eyes being much more vibrant, but he likes the true hue better. and whenever she thought of him, y/n had always imagined glasses, like when he was a child, but being able to see his face clearly is so much better.
“actually,” y/n starts. she finishes her statement by pressing her lips against spencer’s firmly. he threads his hands through her hair and pulls her closer to him, letting out a soft moan. the kiss is passionate, but not lustful. it’s gentle and full of energy. y/n nips at spencer’s bottom lip. he tastes like sangria. his hand travels to the side of her face, thumb rubbing against her cheek slowly. he kisses her like she's oxygen and he’s never had a breath of fresh air in his life.
after a minute, y/n pulls away slowly, resting her forehead on his. “okay, now you can tell me a story.”
spencer presses another chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. “how do you expect me to remember anything right now?”
y/n grins, pulling away from their intimate position and turning to face the stars. “i can wait. i’ve got all night.”
#aw so cute would be a shame if someone added...angst#hehe#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler smut#matthew gray gubler fluff#Spencer Reid angst#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut#my writing#to the moon and to saturn#to the moon and to saturn chapter two#Spencer Reid x you
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late-night snacking (s)
part of the autumn experiences collection.
pairing: osamu miya x reader
genre: smut
warnings: fem!receiving oral
words: 1.8k
summary: let me please you.
prompt: feast
You've come to realize that your boyfriend is essentially a human heater. Osamu seems like he'd be the stereotypical cold man who just couldn't (and wouldn't) extend his emotions to others, but that just wasn't right. Having dated the man for five years, you'd come to realize that he wasn't prickly and cold but rather eager to show how much he cared about people close to him.
He wasn't too forward about that either, but you knew what he was trying to do.
Curled up into his side on the couch, you're partly thankful your heater was all the way in storage and the two of you were too lazy to fish it out. Osamu's body heat was much nicer to be curled up against, and his relaxed breathing soothed you; it made you feel sleepy.
"You're gonna miss the best part if you fall asleep," he looked down at you and squeezed your shoulder before motioning to the romcom movie.
"I'm not sleeping. I'm just...relaxing."
He was not convinced but hummed and settled back on the movie. You'd chosen it, of course, the cheesy plots and stereotypical tropes always made your heart melt because they were just so cute but poorly done—something about things not being absolutely perfect made your heart do flips.
Like 'Samu. He wasn't perfect, but you adored him. He had trouble expressing his emotions when problems were occurring, that always led to a lot of back and forth silence until one of you broke. It was annoying, you hated it when you could tell something was wrong and he wouldn't spit it out. It clashed with your need to problem solve and get to the bottom of the issue at that exact moment.
He wasn't all bad, though. He was good with romantic gestures! Making lunch was his favorite if you recalled correctly. It must be an instinctual thing, wanting to provide for the one you love. That fact just made your heart pound more at the thought of it. He was also incredibly dazzling. During his volleyball era, you were obsessed with the way sweat rolled down his jawline, and how he'd look at you in the stands with a ferocity that made your knees completely weak. Sometimes, he'd come to your bedroom and completely envelop you with his mouth, lingering touches, and soft-spoken words. Other times, he pushed your face into the bedsheets and shuddered from how hard he came while you pathetically clenched around him. The mere thought of the various ways he could and would use you made your thighs clench as you looked up at him.
His adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, and you admired the creamy skin tone on his neck that was begging to be littered with bruises. His eyes caught yours and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. You'd been caught.
"Got something on your mind, doll?"
Your face grows hot as you scrunch your face up and turn away from the knowing gaze, "nothing you need to know."
"Yeah? Well, it's your movie night, and you're not even paying attention. Don't be mad when you don't like the movie I pick next time."
He adjusts his seated position to pull you into his lap, large hands glide gracefully to your waist, and fingertips dip just under your pajama shorts. He's close, too close. His eyes are hooded as he looks at you expectantly.
"I don't know what you want from me! Now you're distracting me from the movie."
"We can catch up on it later."
His lips capture yours in a kiss, and you're weakened. He always knows how to have you where he wanted you. Strawberry chapstick, he's conscious of having soft lips. Mainly because Atsumu made fun of him for having dry lips so he continually puts it on. You don't mind too much; it tastes good and feels nice on your skin.
He pulls away with a final tug to your bottom lip before giving you a small smile.
"You look pretty tonight."
"Thank you."
Diving back to your neck this time, he latches onto the left side of your neck and peppers kisses on the area. He takes his time, methodical and careful. It's nice, but it has you rolling your hips against his to feel just a bit of friction. You manage to wiggle against the tent in his sweatpants only twice until he bites down and sucks a bruise into your neck.
"'Samu!"
"Stop trying to rush me, I'll give you all you want and more."
Soothing the ache on your neck with a gentle kiss, he lifts your sweatshirt up to your collarbone and grins. He looks so stupid and boyish, you can't even believe that you're already ruining your underwear when he tugs your left nipple into his mouth and sucks.
Keening, you immediately try to arch away, but he's faster and stronger. Peering up at you with those sinful eyes, he holds you in place. Your breath is starting to come out in short bursts, and you can feel him smiling as he kisses and marks up the valley between your breasts.
"Let me eat you out. Lie back."
"Huh?"
He flicks your nipple to hear the yelp come out of you. Immediately, you glare at him.
"That's not funny."
"You like it when I'm mean to you. I'll stop, but just because I wanna see you cry under me."
Molten lava swirls in your gut as you shift off of him and lie back on the expanse of the couch. Your underwear is sticky and now that you think about it, creaming on his tongue and fingers was not a bad way to get what you wanted. Though, you'd always prefer him fucking into your pussy with the appetite of a starved man, the fullness of his cock overtaking you and your brain turning to mush till all you could cry out was, "'Samu...Please, it's too much…!"
He pushes you up so your head is supported by the armrest while focusing on your lower half. His eyes greedily take in the pose you're in before untying your shorts and shimmying them down your ass, tapping your thigh to lift as needed.
"Oh? For me? I'll be sure to enjoy it."
You feel exposed when he pulls your panties taut against your lips, the visible dark patch giving him an ego boost.
"Just get to it!" you huff and look down at him, impatient as ever.
"Why are you so bratty?" you make eye contact with him and tremble under his dark gaze, "I told you I would take care of you, didn't I? You're not acting very gracious right now."
You open your mouth to protest but cross your arms and glare up at the ceiling. Maybe you were being a bit bratty today...It was fun, though. You liked the way he looked at you and treated you.
Your panties were taken off slowly and dangled on your foot; you'd begun to sweat by now. He was just staring at your cunt, not moving. You went to close your legs, but the sudden harsh suck against your clit made you jolt and grip his hair. Your legs naturally went to close, but he held them open effortlessly. He flattened his tongue and licked from your soaked opening to your clit again before pulling back.
"Are you going to apologize?"
He let his fingers form a peace sign before gliding between your wet lips, purposefully avoiding your clit.
"...'M sorry, Osamu. I'll stop being a brat. I love you."
"I love you too, sweet girl."
His head that rested on your thigh gave butterfly kisses to your it while his thumb rubbed a hard circle to your clit. Then, he did it once more as he sucked a hickey to the inside of your thigh.
The pressure against your clit versus the softness of his kisses made your head spin. You rocked your hips up to catch more of his love and groaned at his ministrations. You looked down at him and bit your lip when you saw his eyes looking straight at you already. He smiled, and you watched in near admiration as he ground his tongue into your core and let a finger dip into your already soaked hole.
"I need...I want you to…"
"I know."
Your voice, honeyed and needy, wailed as he gently crooked his finger up, lightly grazing the sensitive flesh while he worked the outside of your cunt in such a way that only your lover could. He murmured something incoherent against your flesh before letting two fingers delve inside you, a cry being torn from your throat as you shifted your hips to feel more of him inside you. You wanted him and only him.
You were absolutely soaking his fingers as he let them glide in and out of you, soft groans falling from his lips as he watched you take him in. Your hand twitched, and he used his free one to interlace your fingers;smoothly working you to the point of release. The tight coiling in your loins let you know that you were so close. Osamu watched your free hand rise to toy with the pebbled buds of your breasts.
You were panting now, your breath coming out fast as incoherent moans and cries spilled out from your lips.
"Osamu! Please let me cum, I wanna…"
He laughed lightly as the fog that clearly withheld all coherent sentences clouded over. He worked his fingers faster, the sloppy noise of him fucking your pussy being raunchier than any porn you two had ever watched.
Pulling his fingers out, you cried and squeezed his hand. Though, he was not one to disappoint as he buried his face into your cunt and wormed his tongue through your folds to circle your sopping wet entrance. His fingers gripped your thighs so hard you could nearly feel the bruises appearing as he tongue-fucked you to your release. The wet gummy intrusion sent you spiraling as his nose bumped against your clit. Of course, the coil snapped, and you soaked his tongue as you came.
"Hah...oh god! 'S-Samu!!"
He let his tongue lap up your essence while you spasmed around him. You rode his face to completion and sobbed from pleasure; he simply guided you till your thighs shut around his head, and you began to tilt your hips away from his mouth.
Of course, cumming around his cock would've been ideal, but this was the next best thing. Your thighs released his head, and when he came up for air, you throbbed at his glistening chin. He smirked at you and licked his lips before butterfly kissing your-in his words-pretty pretty pussy.
You lie on the couch boneless, convinced you'll have to get it steam cleaned as there was no way it wasn't wrecked with your cum.
"You shouldn't be allowed to be that good at that."
"What? Eating your pussy? Well, eating is my favorite thing to do."
"'Samu! Don't be gross!"
He sat back on his haunches and tilted his head.
"I was just trying to thank you for the meal."
#osamu x reader#miya osamu#osamu#osamu miya#osamu smut#osamu x y/n#miya osamu smut#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu imagines#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenarios#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu!! imagines#haikyuu prompts#haikyuu!! smut
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Who do you save, John? (Bit 10c + The End)
Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5a | Bit 5b | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10a | Bit 10b | Bit 10c
Always end up rushed. Didn’t have a chance to edit the end so I’m likely to be swearing at it later. Sorry for the delay, muse crashed and burned on Friday. here’s hoping I’ve resuscitated it. 17,000 words. So much for the under 10K I estimated. Typical.
For @5hadow-alpha cos they wanted Shopping and a Tracy brother. They got more than one, and I got more than I expected.
-o-o-o-
The next time Alan woke, the room was full of golden family.
The sun was setting through the window, lighting up the room in shades of gold. His brothers were lit up as they clustered around Virgil’s bed.
They didn’t notice Alan, and it gave him the opportunity to both wake up fully and observe his family undetected.
He was feeling much better. His head was a lot clearer and he was calmer.
The reason why no one noticed his wakefulness was because Virgil was already awake.
His brother was smiling and poking fun at a sunlit Gordon near the end of his bed. Gordon appeared to be enjoying it. When the attention drifted away from him and whether or not he was allowed to film Virgil on drugs, the expression on his fish brother’s face was one of fondness and hope. His eyes barely left the prone man.
That fact could have been annoying from a little brother’s perspective, but Alan found himself doing the same thing.
Virgil, who had literally died in his arms, was supported by his bed, sitting up at an angle and talking quite animatedly. There was a healthy flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.
John was standing calmly on the other side of the bed, the setting sun catching his hair from behind as it darted through the hospital window.
John had a habit of striking such a pose. It was unclear if he did it on purpose or was completely unaware of his surroundings in those moments.
Virgil had photographed him on multiple occasions for that exact reason, much to the astronaut’s annoyance.
Grandma stood beside him; her arms wrapped around his. That was an unusual sight. But then they had almost lost a brother and the threat had been to John.
That thought led into unpleasant directions so he brought it to a halt.
He could only see Scott’s back, but his brother was gesticulating, making a point about digging up Gordon’s baby videos and broadcasting them to the world if he didn’t behave.
As if Scott would ever do something like that.
Though, come to think of it, the threat at least wasn’t a bad idea. Alan had much less a solid reputation than Scott and could probably carry the threat enough to get some good ones out of his brother.
“How did you know it was a fake detonator?” John’s voice cut across the conversation, his expression puzzled. The question came out of the blue, ever a sign that John’s mind worked on more than one track at a time.
Virgil blinked up at him. “I…I didn’t at first. It was a good replica of a T-325. But I noticed he was holding his hand strangely. The T-325 has a trigger rest here.” His brother held up a hand as if to sketch out the design in the air, only wince and withdraw the gesture.
Grandma frowned at him from the other side of the bed.
“Long story short…if you waved a T-325 around as much as he did, with that grip, chances are we would have blown up long before he had started his second rant. That one is a touchy model.” Virgil shifted awkwardly and Scott laid a hand on his arm.
“Well, I’m glad we had our expert on hand.”
Scott’s smile was reflected in Virgil’s eyes.
“Oh, ho, ho, look who’s awake!”
Trust Gordon to dob him in.
Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on Alan. His father and eldest brother spun, both faces lighting up when they realised Alan was awake.
Alan couldn’t help but grin back. “Hey.” His voice caught and he coughed.
Talk about ruining a moment. Scott was on him immediately, his dad not far behind.
“How are you feeling, Alan?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m good.” He reached out his uninjured arm and nudged his worried brother aside gently. “Virgil?”
Soft brown eyes caught his and his big brother smiled. “Hey, Allie.”
A hand landed on Alan’s leg and he looked up to find a pair of grey eyes peering down at him. Alan frowned. “Dad, you should sit down.”
“I’m fine, Allie. Are you comfortable?”
An arched eyebrow. “I’m good, honest.” And he was. There was definitely still something in his system. It was keeping him quite happy. Too much movement probably wasn’t on the cards yet, but to be honest, the sight of Virgil smiling at him was enough endorphins to keep him going for weeks.
He turned back to Virgil and soaked it in.
The smile turned to a grin and Alan flushed in embarrassment.
But those brown eyes were reassurance itself.
“Hmm, did you two want to be alone?”
“Shut up, Gordon.” It was sharp, but no less reassuring that Virgil could spin the familiar phrase off so easily.
Alan laughed. “Good to see you, Virg.”
Again with the smile. “Likewise.” Those eyes turned inwards for a second before fixating on him. “And thank you.”
The line ‘just doing my job’ climbed onto his lips, but he vetoed it. “Always, bro.”
The room was embarrassingly silent after that and the moment broke.
“Dad, I would rather you sat down.” Virgil was definitely feeling better.
“I can look after myself, son.” It was firm and a touch threatening if Virgil chose to push the point.
But his father took a seat.
Alan shifted position and his arm twinged. He must have shown it on his face, because Scott reached out and touched his shoulder. He looked up to find worried blue eyes staring down at him.
Apparently, he needed to repeat himself. “I’m okay, Scott.”
His brother grunted before letting go, grabbing his plastic chair and dumping himself in it.
The room fell silent.
Turquoise hit him from across the room as the sun dipped behind a cloud and the room chilled.
“So, who was that guy?” Anything to get the conversation moving.
For a second, he regretted the topic as Scott’s lips thinned, but he had to know and clearing the air wouldn’t hurt, would it?
It was John who answered, though. “Timothy was a rescue we were unable to attend. Eos pulled the records and what he said was true. He lost his family. Any other day and we would have been there, but the Tsunami Disaster had all our attention.” A pause. “I am sorry.”
Scott started at that. “Hey, it was not your fault.”
A copper eyebrow arched. “Really? Do you want me to list exactly where our forces were deployed at that moment? It was Day Three. Scott was en route to Tracy Island for refueling, Virgil, you were asleep. Gordon had dragged you to the bunk on Two. He had threatened to tie you down. You were all down for the count. His call was one of twenty-three we couldn’t respond to on that particular day.”
“Johnny-“ Gordon held out a hand.
It was almost snapped off. “Don’t call me Johnny.”
“John.” Their father’s voice managed to be both warning and worried at the same time.”
His astronaut brother didn’t back down. “This isn’t out of the ordinary. It happens every day. It is happening now. People are dying because we are not there.”
“We can’t save everyone.” His father’s voice was firm.
“I know that, Dad.” John’s expression was exasperation itself. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”
Silence fell again and all Alan could think of was how this whole thing had been aimed at John and how it had obviously reached its target despite Timothy not succeeding in his plan.
Something was burning in his brother. He could see it from here. John was tense and agitated.
It was likely the drugs, but Alan just wanted to climb out of bed and hug him.
“Well now, I think, you could all do with something to eat.” Grandma squeezed John’s arm and he looked down at her as if snapped from a dream. “Don’t look at me like that, young man. I know you haven’t been eating.”
“What?” Scott sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing in on his brother. “John?”
The astronaut rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” And Grandma was nudging him towards the door.
His father stood up and followed.
Scott eyed Alan a moment, but stayed seated.
As their grandmother and father herded John out the door, Gordon took the opportunity to steal the chair beside Scott.
“Is John okay?” The words fell from Alan’s mouth before he could think twice.
Scott sighed. “He will be.” There was a silent ‘I hope’ after that.
“Eh, he’s just pissed Eos got found out.”
Alan blinked. “What?”
“Gordon!”
“Just trying to lighten the atmosphere. Cool it, bro.”
Alan frowned. “What?”
“Eos electrocuted a guard with his own comms circuit.” Gordon was smirking.
“What? How?”
“Upped the signal power enough to arc through his baldric.”
Alan stared at his brother. “She hurt him?” He turned to Scott. “She can do that?” To us?
“Don’t worry, it is not happening again.”
“He deserved it.” Gordon snarled the words. “Betraying us for money. He’s lucky it was Eos and not Kayo.”
Scott tilted his head. “Kayo hasn’t finished with him yet.”
Alan’s eyes were bugging out. “Who? And why?”
Scott sighed just a little. “The guard outside the dressing room was an accomplice.”
“One of our own?”
“Yes.” That single word said so much. Kayo wasn’t the only person angry at such a betrayal. No doubt whoever it was would have to face the Commander at some point.
Alan had faced an angry Scott before. Not an experience for the faint hearted.
“And Eos was able to electrocute him with his comms?”
“Brains is working on it as we speak. It won’t happen again.”
Scott would never be entirely comfortable with Eos. Alan had to admit he had a few issues of his own having had to scoop up his astronaut brother as he lay dying in space, because of her.
A hand landed on his. “It won’t happen again.”
Alan swallowed. “Good.”
“Well, we’re lucky it happened this once. John found traces of an alien computer program in the z band network. Brains is having conniptions. This one security breach could have destroyed everything.”
“But it didn’t.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, but strong enough to stop the conversation. “We’re all safe. It’s over.” Brown eyes flickered in his direction.
The same brown eyes that had closed on Alan as his brother died in his arms.
Anger flared up. “So, this security breach let Timothy do what he wanted and Virgil died because of it.” Three pairs of eyes widened at Alan’s sharp tone. “How did this happen? How did he get past all our security checks? Kayo is pedantic to the point that I sometime wonder if I’ll be allowed access to anything. How did we not know?”
“Allie, it’s okay.” Again, Virgil’s voice was soft. “We’ll fix it.”
“You died, Virgil!”
“No, I didn’t.” Those eyes blinked slowly.
“You did!”
“Alan!”
And he found himself breathing fast and hard. Scott was holding him down. Gordon had a hand on his leg.
“Calm down, Allie.” Intense blue eyes caught his. “Virgil is safe. You are safe. We will fix this.”
Alan stared up at his big brother, soaking in the reassurance Scott was broadcasting. A deeper breath and he willed his heart rate to slow. He swallowed and managed the briefest of nods.
“The guy had money and resources. Kayo will, no doubt, rake our entire security force over hot coals. We will learn from this experience and it will not happen again.”
“It should not have happened in the first place.” Alan found his voice cold and as Scott flinched, he knew it had hit home.
“Allie…” Virgil looked half asleep and Alan realised that he probably was. “We’ll fix this.”
Alan pressed his lips together and glanced between all three of his brothers before once again fixating on Scott.
“We better.”
-o-o-o-
Jeff dragged John out of the hospital room with the full intention of cornering him. The fact his mother came with them was only an inconvenience.
“Mom, could you run ahead and dig up some menus from the cafeteria and perhaps let the nurses station know that the boys are awake?”
His mother eyed him and arched a silver eyebrow. “Certainly.” A flick of that gaze at his son before she turned and walked off.
No doubt he would be paying for that one later.
But first he wanted to speak to John.
“Walk with me?”
The astronaut frowned at him, but nodded once.
Jeff cursed being so slow, but he led his son down to the hospital garden. Security made itself known as Iz appeared from nowhere and he caught a glimpse of Leone not far off. Kayo was laying it on thick, but he couldn’t blame her.
The garden was a small one and this late in the day, quite dark and empty. Most patients had been hustled off to bed and their visitors went with them.
If Iz was seen to lock the door behind them and secure the green patch for them alone, Jeff wasn’t going to argue, just this once.
He found a bench under a large shrub that gave them some privacy and ushered John to sit down beside him as he lowered himself on to the seat.
“Dad, I’m okay.”
“That seems to be a theme in this family even when it is a blatant lie.”
That shut his boy up for a moment.
Jeff sighed. “John, when I sent you up there, I knew it was going to be hard. I am sorry.”
“No, Dad. I knew what I was getting into. This is not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? Aren’t I hailed the creator of International Rescue?” He tried hard to catch those turquoise eyes, but John refused to look at him.“Pfft. The media. What do they know?”
That got a reaction. Copper eyebrows arched and his son looked up. Jeff took every advantage.
“I may have taken the first steps, but it is you boys who have kept it all going. Lived it. You’ve lived it for ten years. That is four times as long as I have and, trust me, I have guilt for those numbers.”
“Dad-“
He held up a hand. “No. This is where you listen, John.”
Something flashed in those eyes and Jeff’s lips twisted in response. “I set you boys on this path and you have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. You have made both your mother and I ever so proud.”
John just stared at him, eyes a little wide.
“But there has been a cost. You carry scars that have me questioning every decision I ever made.” He swallowed, all of it suddenly threatening to overwhelm. He shifted in his seat. “John, I know you sit up there day in and day out with lives in your hands. I can see that every life lost has as much effect on you as it does your brothers and often even more so because you see more of them.”
Jeff paused and tilted his head. “What’s the average number?”
John blinked. “Excuse me?”
“How many lives are lost per day because we can’t respond?”
There was a flicker of the professional emergency responder and his son’s face fell calm. “Ten to fifteen. It varies. The number includes rescues that fail due to local authorities incapability, situations that become more severe than predicted on initial assessment and situations we can not attend simply because we do not have the resources.”
“And what do you tell these callers?”
“What I can.” John’s voice grew quiet. “We do our best, Dad.”
Little more than breath. “Exactly.” He held his son’s eyes and couldn’t help but see the young man he had once been during that cyclone all those years ago. That same youth and concern. That care for those he couldn’t help.
“What’s the average daily rescue count?”
John blinked. “Uh, it varies between ten and several hundred.”
It was Jeff’s turn to blink. “That many?”
John shrugged. “Well, the statistics were blown during the asteroid crisis with Fischler and the aurora generator was full of hypotheticals.” His son was frowning, his hands expressive.
Jeff grabbed them.
“If you had a choice, all over again, as to whether you would take this path or another, what would you choose?”
The frown he received was castigating. “Dad, that’s asking the ridiculous.”
“No, who do you save, John? Them or yourself.”
“That’s a stupid question. Of course, I, we, choose to save everyone we can. We do it every day, Dad.” His son looked offended.
“Even despite the cost?”
“Of course.” The offense turned to an expression questioning Jeff’s sanity.
“Why?”
“Because it is worth it, Dad. When someone calls for help, they have to know there is someone out there who will answer. That’s what I do, Dad. I’m The Voice Who Answers.”
Jeff couldn’t help but smile. His boys made him so proud. Worried, yes, but so, so proud. His own words from so many years ago, echoed back at him by the very son who enacted them on a daily basis. The son who sacrificed so much to be up there, apart from his family, apart from the world, just so he could do exactly that.
The Voice Who Answers didn’t even consider the question, a question.
Who do you save?
Everyone you can.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#John Tracy#Virgil Tracy#Alan Tracy#Scott Tracy#Gordon Tracy#Jeff Tracy#Grandma Tracy#Sally Tracy#nuttys fandomversary
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Rarepair Sunday- Hopeisol
I meant to post this yesterday but petered out towards the end (how on brand is that). But here’s a fluffy little fic about Hope and Marisol going on a double date with this week’s rairpair- Bobby and Noah.
Words: ~2500
Warnings: None, maybe slight angst and mention of doing the nasty but not at all descriptions of it
When she walked into the kitchen, rummaging through her purse on the counter, Noah couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. He exhaled out his teeth, whistling slightly. Hope looked up, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she stepped back, forgetting the quest to find her keys.
She gestured down at herself, posing with her hips and flipping newly installed box braids over her shoulder, “How do I look?”
“Stunning.” He said without thinking. And it was true. The closest he’d seen to her going this all out was at the villa prom, but even that was a shadow of the visage standing in front of him now. The new hair style that she’d spent the better part of the day in the salon getting struck a balance between startlingly different but radiant, her expertly applied makeup sharpened her jaw and eyes flawlessly, the rich jewel tones of her body con dress made her skin glow in the low light of the apartment. But more than the look, there was a lightness in her eyes and smile. The tension that normally stiffened her shoulders had vanished, and she appeared more relaxed than he’d ever seen her.
She threw her head back with a laugh at his comment, “do you think so?”. She moved in between several poses, turning to fully show off the look and gracefully moving her arms. He couldn’t help but smile, watching her playfully lean and posture. Before he said anything else, her focus snapped to Noah, sprawled out on the couch. She walked over slowly, lips pursed in silent thought.
Hope hesitated before quietly, tentatively offering “And you look…”
Sensing her judgement he sat up, brushing the wrinkles of his dress pants away and straightening his tie. He offered her a beleaguered smile, “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“It’s fine, you look great.” She bent slightly and loosened the knot of her tie, pulling it into the proper shape then tightening it again. “I just… Do you own more than one suit?”
“What do you mean?! This is a new shirt, and tie! I picked it out specifically for this-”
“There’s no way that’s new.”
“It is!”
“If it’s new, then you have at least two of the exact same. Noah, how many navy button downs do you own?”
He blushed, looking down at himself. She offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning back to her purse. As she walked away, she quipped over her shoulder, “at least you’re not wearing a vest.”
“I look good in a vest!” He called back.
“Who looks good in a vest?” Marisol walked out of the bedroom, holding the keys that Hope was still rummaging around for. Hope spun around and her face lit up.
“Noah, allegedly.”
Marisol smiled and pressed the keys into Hope’s palm, leaning in and kissing her cheek lightly. “Aw. Are you teasing him?” Then she raised her voice so Noah could hear without looking away from Hope, “I think you look nice in vests.”
Noah’s response was lost in the fumbling of their lips, fingers seeking each other out to interlace. When she pulled away, Hope murmured, “you look beautiful.” Marisol offered her a coquettish smile before releasing her hands, “I know.” Hope’s jaw dropped and she swatted at her girlfriend, “I know” she mimicked.
“I do know! It took an hour and a half to look this good, babes,” Marisol retorted.
“Speaking of which,” Hope turned back towards the living room, “have you heard anything from him?”
“Radio silence.” Noah called back.
Marisol frowned, “I just checked the flight tracker, it said he’s still on time.”
“I knew I should’ve scheduled the reservation for later.”
Marisol slid a comforting hand around Hope’s waist, rubbing her skin gently with her thumb, “don’t go into damage control yet. We don’t know for sure either way.” Hope leaned into her hand, but didn’t say anything. After a bit, Marisol turned back to Noah, sensing she needed to take control.
“Well the plane’s still landing at 6:00, so we might as well assume everything’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get a text during the drive. Let’s just get going.”
Noah nodded silently, a look in his eyes that meant he wasn’t sharing his concerns. But he still stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of the sofa. Hope smiled tightly and grabbed her purse.
“We’re gonna have a great time. Come on.” Marisol kissed Hope lightly again, then walked over to Noah. She pulled at his tie, trying to get the knot to lay flatter than it was. Noah swallowed a laugh and glanced conspiratorially over at Hope, who rolled her eyes through a smile.
The drive to the airport was quiet. Noah sat in the backseat, scrolling through his phone, and the ladies held hands up front as Hope drove. Periodically, Noah would share a news story or joke from his timeline, and they would all collectively chuckle at it. The silence that had previously been terse and anxious morphed into a comfortable, content silence.
It took another 45 minutes for them to park, go through security, and find the right gate. Noah had gotten progressively quieter, lips turned slightly downwards as they waited outside of the gate. Hope gently held his forearm, “it’ll be fine, babes.”
Noah nodded, not speaking the fact that they were all acutely aware of. It’d been five months since they’d last seen each other, the longest stretch of time they’d gone since they started dating. While they both agreed long-distance would be doable while he looked for a new job, the separation was wearing on them.
As the door opened and people started meandering through, the coil in Noah’s throat rose higher. Both Marisol and Hope gently patted and held him, sensing his anxiety. He almost brushed them off, feeling like a child, but instead he remained frozen in place, staring at the doorway.
Like it was nothing, suddenly he appeared. Frumpled shirt halfway unbuttoned, eschew, massive headphones perched around the back of his head, smile brighter than the pastel orange of his slacks. He immediately locked eyes on Noah and squeezed past the woman in front of him, running to them. Without thinking, Bobby launched himself at Noah, wrapping his arms around Noah’s neck and pulling his legs up around him as well. Noah lurched back but caught him intuitively, pulling him up into a long kiss. He had to let Bobby down earlier than he’d normally- the backpack strapped to the shorter man weighed nearly as much as Bobby did.
Bobby grinned up at him, “hey.” Noah couldn’t help himself from smiling, giddiness making his cheeks flush and eyes squint. “You were supposed to text me when you landed.”
Easing back onto his own feet, Bobby flushed, “yeah, sorry. They didn’t have ports- my phone’s completely dead.”
Noah nodded gently, “but you’re here.”
Marisol cleared her throat, and the couple glanced over at her. “Bobby, what are you wearing?”
“What do you mean, I’m-”
Hope’s face fell and Marisol cut in before she had a chance to react, “Hope made a reservation for dinner at 7. You were supposed to wear your suit on the plane… Is it in your backpack?” She disdainfully glanced at it, not relishing the wrinkles being crammed in a pack would cause.
Bobby’s face fell too, “Shit- I totally forgot-”
Hope started to match Marisol’s agitation, but instead of frustration, tears began welling in the back of her throat. “It has a dress code, Bobby-”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Noah tried to sooth them, “we’ll just swing back to your place. I have an extra shirt, and I’m sure Bobby has some more understated pants-” Bobby visible cringed, shooting a look at Noah.
Marisol nodded, using Hope’s distress to launch from anger into problem solving mode. “If we leave now we’ll have time to run back, it’s fine. Let’s do that, come on.” She gently pulled Hope into moving.
Bobby rested his head on Noah’s shoulder as they drove back, playing with his hands. They giggled between themselves, and Hope tried desperately to swallow her irritation and just be happy for them. It was good to see Bobby.
Noah always seemed to be more comfortable around him too, chatting much more and openly laughing. That was the thing that convinced her Bobby and Noah were a good couple, or at least a better couple than she and Noah ever would be. When she was with Noah, he was just as sweet and considerate as ever, but it always felt like she had to guess what he wanted. Like there was some barrier, like he was speaking a language a little too fluently for her to understand. There was no need for it either, she tried desperately to communicate with him. At times, it’d felt like he willingly stonewalled her instead of just saying what he wanted, just to be difficult. Just to be frustrating. Therapy had made Hope realize that she’d done the same, in part, focusing on little conflicts instead of addressing her underlying insecurities about the relationship.
But it still hurt some, to see how vibrant Noah became when Bobby whispered in his ear. Not that she wanted him still. But Hope had a hard time letting go, taking the L. Noah had been something she wanted so deeply, and couldn’t make work no matter how hard she tried. Maybe that was the problem, Noah’s love was a thing she wanted. With Marisol, it wasn’t like that.
Hope didn’t want, didn’t demand, Marisol’s love more than she wanted the dumb memes sent to her phone sporadically throughout the day. Than she wanted the slow and soft mornings waking up to the smell of coffee and her tender hands. More than she wanted to wrap herself in Marisol’s affection and never let go.
A relationship with Marisol was work, true, but it felt like Marisol wanted to work for it in a way Noah was never willing to. And that remained a slight bitterness in Hope’s friendship with Noah. No matter how much they’d put the show behind them, Hope couldn’t forget how in love she’d been with him. How angry she’d been. The show’s reruns made her cringe, but also caused a dull ache in her chest. Reconnecting with Marisol had dulled that ache to nearly nothing, but seeing Bobby and Noah carrying on as if Noah was never hers caused it to flare up again.
Glancing at Marisol from the road dissolved that twinge of resentment into shame. Here she was, angry that her friend had found romance in the exact same way she had, when the love of her life was quietly humming along to the radio next to her. It’s not as if Noah realizing his crush on Bobby after the show was any more disloyal than her and Marisol’s friendship growing into more with time. As much as she tried to rationalize it away, there was still a hint of frustration. Marisol quelled it but sliding a hand into Hope’s lap and gently squeezing her thigh, but Hope had to force herself to stop glancing in the rearview mirror anyways.
When they got to the apartment, Noah pulled Bobby into the guest bedroom to some side eye from Marisol. Hope sat tersely at the kitchen counter, and Marisol slid behind her, gently rubbing her shoulders.
“Don’t let it ruin your whole night babes, we’ll still make the reservation.”
Hope huffed, recognizing it was more than that but taking the out provided, “I spent so much time planning it all out. I made the reservation two months ago-”
Marisol kissed her shoulder, then her neck, whispering, “I know. We all appreciate how much time and effort you put into planning everything.”
“I just want this to be a good weekend. They haven’t see each other in forever and-”
“And they’re already really happy with each other. You can’t make yourself responsible for their relationship success, darling.”
“I’m not-” she snapped, letting out a breath when Marisol raised an eyebrow condescendingly. Without conceding, Hope sighly loudly and nodded.
The sat like that for awhile, Marisol gently running her nails across Hope’s back and Hope vacantly staring out the kitchen window. After a considerable bit, Marisol went to the bedroom door, intending to knock. She raced back with a smug grin, and blurted out in a hushed voice, “they’re shagging!”
“What?!”
“Absolutely. They are 100% going at it-”
“Are you kidding me.” Hope pushed up away from the table, spinning on her heels. Marisol caught her arm and pulled her back.
“Oh babe, come on. Don’t interrupt-”
“Our reservation started five minutes ago and you want me to-”
“They haven’t seen each other in awhile-”
“They literally just had to wait four more hours!”
“As if you haven’t been late to a meeting because we were getting a little indecent.”
“That’s not remotely the same thing,” Hope glowered at her girlfriend, and Marisol just laughed, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her forehead.
Hope huffed again, and stomped over to the living room, dropping into the loveseat. “Fine. I won’t interrupt. I won’t urge anyone to hurry or worry about a schedule or plan anything. We’ll see how much fun everyone has when everyone just says ‘it’ll work out’ and never puts in any effort to make it work out.”
Marisol watched her storm away, then waited until she was finished. Against her better judgement, she offered, “I said I appreciated your effort.” Which earned her a sour glare. She shrugged, then turned and disappeared into the main bedroom. Hope turned on the tv and attempted to care about the cooking competition that came on. After twenty more minutes, she called in and cancelled the reservation.
Nearly an hour later, the guest bedroom door pushed open. A flushed Noah stepped out, his clothes obviously straightened but the knot of his tie sloppily done again, followed by Bobby. Bobby had put on one of Noah’s shirt, apparent from the looseness and bunching of a shirt that was far too big for him and the signature navy pattern that only Noah and newly graduated business majors would pick out. The boys had so intelligently paired the shirt Bobby was currently swimming in with a pair of khakis.
Hope turned, most of her irritation haven softened with some alone time. She barked a laugh, partially in genuine humor and partially in disbelief. “You’re going to wear that to a five star restaurant?”
Bobby blushed and Noah looked down at him. “I thought we managed to cobble a look together.”
“No tie?”
“I only brought one.” Noah raised a hand to start pulling his own off, before Hope shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. They only hold reservations for a half hour after they’re booked for.”
“I’m sorry, Hope-”
“As you should be.” Marisol walked out of the hall, she strode past Bobby and Noah, sparing a withering glance at Bobby and snorting her amusement. Without saying anything else, she opened the door and disappeared into the apartment hallway. Hope watched her go in confusion, then turned back to the boys.
“It’s fine.” Her voice softened. It was fine, really. At the end of the day, they were all together, and happy. That should be enough.
“It’s not my fault I’m so incredibly irresistible-” Bobby quipped, and Noah looked away while Hope grimaced, “gross.”
“Bobby, don’t-”
“No it’s not even true,” Hope cut in, grinning, “you look like a 9 year old trying on dad’s shirt for the first time, and you want to brag about being irresistible?”
“I make it work, lass.” Bobby pulled the back of the shirt tight, trying to give himself an hourglass figure, and posed. Hope stuck her tongue out, and he winked in return.
The door pushed open again and Marisol shoved her way through, arms full of plastic bags. Hope shook her head in confusion before rushing over to help carry things.
“When did you-”
“I know Bobby doesn’t mind, but Noah do you like pho? It’s a trick question, I already ordered it. But still.”
Noah smiled, “yeah, I’ll eat some pho-”
“Fantastic, to the terrace!”
Hope trailed behind Marisol as she led through the open screen door onto their small patio. Setting the bag of takeout down on the coffee table, she couldn’t smother her excitement.
“Babes, when did you do all this?”
“Just now.”
Marisol had toted blankets and pillows from their bedroom out to the patio furniture, and carried their TV out as well. Four three wick candles were sat on the ground, waving in the breeze, and Marisol had strung multi colored christmas lights they had in storage along the railing.
“I didn’t hear you,” Hope said, eyes twinkling as Marisol leaned in and kissed her temple.
“Yeah, and it was a pain to try to carry that thing down the stairs and out the door silently. Thank god for your lack of awareness.”
“Sod off,” Hope whispered, wrapping her arms around Marisol’s neck and kissing her deeply.
After the food was opened and everyone got settled, some movie was turned on. Hope couldn’t remember what they’d played for the life of her. But she did remember one specific moment. One warm, contented moment. Wrapped in Marisol’s arms, nestled into her side. Hope had glanced over at the boys, who’d pushed two patio chairs together and were spooning, Noah’s legs hanging off the chairs at the knee. The air rustled across her face and the sounds of the city far below harmonized with the movie audio. Hope could’ve gotten lost in Marisol’s breathing, in the comfort and safety of her arms. But she made a salient mental note not to lose that moment.
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Two Hunters, Both Alike in Sympathy (SFTD/Chosen Stories Crossover)
(I know this is a couple days late, but happy belated anniversary to @grace-kohai and her wonderful story! Inspired by a year of happenings over at the SFTD Discord, thank you for giving my Gur-Rai an even bigger family!)
Content Warning: This story has mentions of relationship/parental abuse
Mordenna heard her footsteps before he saw her, and as the cloak melted away to reveal Kon-Mai Mordenna, he knew she had wanted him to find her.
He stepped away from his workbench and turned, smiling warmly until he saw her face: lined with worry. “Something troubling you, sister of mine?”
Kon-Mai nodded and stepped closer. “Mordenna…” She hesitated saying his name “-I’m sorry, it feels strange to use that to refer to someone else.”
“It’s a good name, I’m glad to share it with you.” He chuckled. “But I don’t think you’re here to discuss that.”
“No, I am here to discuss my brother...our brother. Gur-Rai.”
“Oh yeah?” Mordenna raised a brow, intrigued. “What about him?”
“You two have been spending a lot of time together.” She said, leaning on the bench. “Do you think he trusts you, Mordenna?”
Mordenna blinked. “I hope I haven’t given him any reason not to.” He said. Truthfully, he had been spending more time with Gur-Rai than the others, but that was only because the younger Hunter always seemed to seek him out, especially in the workshop. And Mordenna had to admit, Gur-Rai was a nice workshop buddy, and he wasn’t going to say no to a (particularly skilled) extra set of hands. True, Gur-Rai was also a bit more…intense than Mordenna was, but in him was a kindness that the Elders seemed not to have been able to stamp out. Mordenna found solace in that.
“I assume you have heard tell of his newest lover.” She curled her lip on the last word. “The Rookie, Emil.”
Mordenna thought for a moment. “...I haven’t been upstairs in a minute.”
“He was the one throwing a tantrum in the halls two days ago, because nobody could fix his Gewehr 98/40.”
“Oh. Oh.” Mordenna hissed. “That guy. Served him right for bringing a bolt-action to a plasma fight.” He then thought for a moment. “...Gur-Rai’s dating him?”
“Gur-Rai managed to fix the gun.” Kon-Mai elaborated. “And I suppose Emil whispered some sweet nothings into my brother’s ear that made him fall head over heels, like he does.”
“Is that why you look upset?” Mordenna asked.
“It’s why I am here to ask for help.” Kon-Mai replied. “I believe Emil is a liability to those of us on this ship, but more importantly I fear very much that he will lash out at my brother. That he’ll do something to hurt him.”
“So what do you need from me?” Mordenna leaned forward, both hands on the bench. “Because I’m not murdering someone over a tantrum. Trust me if I did, my blood trail would be thicker and stop much sooner.”
“I do not need him dead. Yet.” Kon-Mai hissed. “If it did come to that, I would not be calling on you. What I need help with is convincing my brother to let this rat of a man go before this relationship spirals into a sinkhole.”
Mordenna nodded. “And…why won’t he listen to you? He’s my brother too, but you’ve been around him longer than me.”
“That is why. I have developed a reputation for worrying about my brothers…” She brushed a strand of white hair behind her tiny ear. “...Perhaps to an excessive degree, I admit. If I confront him with this myself, I fear he will assume I’m being paranoid and disregard me, or worse: dig his heels in further.”
“And you actually think this guy is bad news?” Mordenna asked. “I’m not doubting your judgement, but if I’m stepping in, I need more proof than just ‘your sister thinks the guy is a prick.’”
“I would not trust him on a mission with any of our fellows.” Kon-Mai said. “He is volatile, he is argumentative and throws insults around like rice at a wedding. I would go so far as to say it seems like he is intentionally causing sabotage.”
Mordenna bit his lip. “Hearty claims, Kon-Mai.”
“I know they are. I have been staking him out myself but only recently, in case he truly does pose a threat. But in the meantime…” She clasped her hands. “I just want to be assured my brother is safe.”
“Well how about this, I’ll check up on Gur-Rai. If it seems like he needs help, I have ways of making sure nobody messes with him.” He shuffled forward. “But I can’t promise anything.”
“Just…as long as you try.” Kon-Mai bowed to him. “Thank you, Mordenna. I owe you so much.”
“You just owe me one thing.” He opened his arms. “Come on. Being siblings means you gotta pay your dues.”
Kon-Mai rolled her eyes and embraced him, giving him a squeeze almost as strong as Jax would.
.
.
Mordenna was originally going to find Gur-Rai when he was done with his project, but he didn’t need to. Behind him, the door slid open, and as he turned around, he saw Gur-Rai shamble inside, that stupid German rifle in his arms and eyes cast to the floor.
Mordenna’s heart dropped and his brows went up. “Hey, little brother.” He said, trying to sound casual so as not to scare him, but Gur-Rai still startled.
“Hey.” He gave Mordenna a quick, unsure smile and then took up one of the benches, quickly getting to work on the gun. Mordenna peeked over and caught a glimpse of a huge chunk of the wood splintered off, and the metal underneath was bent and peeling away.
“You still messing with that thing?” Mordenna murmured. “I’d just let it go. That gun is older than me.”
“Aw. You’re not old.” Gur-Rai muttered, his voice lacking it’s usual chirp.
“I’m older than you.” Mordenna put down his own project and slowly moved around the bench. “I just hit my fifties and am still going strong.”
Gur-Rai stopped and looked up. “...No way. You’re lying.”
“It’s true. I was in my thirties when the Elders nabbed me.”
“I think even I was younger than that.” Gur-Rai looked interested. “You must’ve been a great shot, for an old timer~”
“I would’ve taught you everything I knew.” Mordenna patted his hood, mindful not to pull it down at all. “I know your Volk is being an asshole and that’s his loss. I’d be proud of you, Gur-Rai. Even after all that, you haven’t lost that spark in your eye yet.”
Gur-Rai fell silent and stared down at the gun on the table. “...Really?”
“Yeah. You’re not as jaded as me, that’s for sure.” Mordenna chuckled. “Take my advice, now that the Elders aren’t holding your leash, hang onto that spark. It’s a wonderful thing you got there, and it makes people really happy to see.”
“What do you mean it makes them happy?” Gur-Rai grabbed some pliers and began pulling off the damaged wood. “And be straight with me, Mords. I don’t want jokes right now, and I really don’t want pity.”
Mordenna paused. “...Hey.” He put his hand closer to Gur-Rai’s arm, almost dangerously so. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t want anyone else telling me how good a person I am when clearly, that is not the case.” With a crack, the remaining wood broke into two pieces and flew across the table. “At best? I’m annoying and childish, and at worst I’m a psychopath who uses humor to forget the horrible things I’ve done, and the latter is probably the most accurate.” He tossed the pliers aside. “Nobody is getting joy from this ugly mug, Mords. Only the Elders do, when they hear me scream.”
Mordenna paused, knowing he’d just hit a huge nerve and would have to proceed slowly. Luckily though, it also seemed like he unearthed something. “Do you really think of yourself that way?” He said softly. “Or is that what someone told you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does.” Mordenna put his hand on Gur-Rai’s shoulder. “Put down the tools for a minute. We gotta talk.”
“Talk? About what?” Gur-Rai turned to face Mordenna. “I already know where babies come from.”
“Well that’s good but that’s not what I mean.” Mordenna leaned against the bench beside him. “Does all this have to do with that broken gun at all?”
Gur-Rai sighed. “...It was my fault.”
“Doubt it. But continue.”
“Emil was trying to fix a chip in the wood, I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, and I reached around to kiss him and...I guess I knocked the gun, and something came loose…” He gestured to the table.
“And your giving him a kiss managed to bend the metal?” Mordenna sounded skeptical.
“No, just chip the wood. The rest--the huge gash on the side and the metal--he did himself when he threw it at me.”
“He what.” Mordenna suddenly, deeply understood Kon-Mai’s worry. In fact, he was beginning to see red himself. “Over a scratch on a gun that should have been decommissioned before he was born?”
“I guess it’s a super important gun.” Gur-Rai muttered. “More important than me. And…yeah. I believe the exact words were ‘I could get any Muton with a dick twice your size and less of an attitude to fuck me, it’d feel exactly the same and be a lot easier.’”
Mordenna paused. “And then you offered to...fix his gun?”
“I mean, I broke it.” Gur-Rai crossed his arms. “And I just…” He pulled away from Mordenna, moving toward the middle of the room and stopping. “I’m gonna bring it to him later with some wine or something, he’ll take it all back…he’s been a sweetheart before, he made me feel…” From the crack in his voice, Mordenna could tell he was holding back tears. “Special. Chosen. And I went and fucked it up just like I did before.”
Mordenna knew of Gur-Rai’s other relationships (and the details, thanks in part to Gur-Rai’s prolific storytelling), but something about the way he said that felt different. It rang in Mordenna’s ears, loud and familiar.
“It’s not your fault that Camazotz hurt you.” Was all he said.
That seemed to do it. Gur-Rai curled in on himself like a shriveled up leaf, and began to shake violently as he sobbed into his hands. Mordenna came up behind him and put a gentle hand on his back, which then turned into him taking Gur-Rai by the shoulders and pulling him into a loose hug. Gur-Rai froze for a moment, still shaking, and then wrapped his arms around Mordenna so tight it almost made the latter cough. He buried his face in Mordenna’s shoulder and let out a weak, quiet sob.
“You didn’t fuck anything up.” He assured him, speaking to him as he would a comforting child. “Camazotz…maybe he thought he loved you, but what he did isn’t love. And it’s not how you treat your children. You didn’t deserve to be hurt by him, and you didn’t deserve a gun chucked in your face today.”
Gur-Rai sounded like he was trying to speak, but it came out as sobbing once again. Mordenna guided him over to a sitting bench and the two collapsed onto it, With Gur-Rai retreating into himself again until Mordenna unwrapped him from that knot and brought him back into his arms.
“I know how you feel.” He said. “God, I spent so long trying to get Odin to be proud of me. And sometimes he’d shell out little bits of praise, bits of affection that kept me hanging on just that much longer, but that’s not enough. It’s not enough to occasionally say you love someone until they upset you, because people who really love you will love you even when they’re angry.”
Gur-Rai flinched at that. “God, please, no. I can’t…I don’t want anyone else to hate me.”
“Gur-Rai, this ship is full of people who love you.” Mordenna insisted. “Let's start with your siblings. Your sister loves you so, so much, you know that?”
“I make her worry.”
“She worries herself, which is her own problem. But she wants you to be safe and happy. Your brother too. And us.” Mordenna rubbed his back. “You’ve been spending so much time down here with me…I feel like we’ve been family forever.”
Gur-Rai hesitated…then he looked up and chuckled. “I mean, you are old enough to be my dad.”
Mordenna snorted, then smirked. “Okay, fine. As your new dad, I’m vetoing all of Camazotz’s previous rulings.”
“Wait.” Gur-Rai blinked. “...Mords. Mords you…” He shook his head. “You probably shouldn't…you know me, I’m a trainwreck on very long legs! I’ll give you a heart attack before you hit 55!”
“Do you realize who you’re talking to?” Mordenna chuckled. “If Odin had had hair, I like to think I’d have turned him grey years ago. I’m not intimidated by the concept of guiding a slightly younger, frankly more childlike version of myself.” His face softened. “If you want it.”
“I…” Gur-Rai swallowed. “I just never had a dad…like a real dad…what do I even do?”
“First off, you sit here and let me hold you while you cry.” Mordenna pulled Gur-Rai back into a hug. “And, when I tell you I love you…you believe me.”
“...Okay.” Gur-Rai squeezed Mordenna back, burying his face in the warmth of his father’s shoulder. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Good job. I…” Mordenna swallowed. “I love you, kiddo. Just as you are.”
As Gur-Rai settled in, and Mordenna gently rocked him back and forth, he began to plan out in his mind exactly what he would do to Emil when he was done down here. It had been a hot minute since Eliza had let him interrogate someone.
And maybe he’d bring Kon-Mai along too.
.
.
.
(I know SFTD will be reaching it’s final act sooner rather than later, let me just say again what an honor it has been to read it, to fully appreciate the Chosen and to get inspiration for my own story too! Hoping for more wonderful writings in the future!)
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Post-Concert Depression
Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader
Genre: Suggestive smut, Supernatural SKZ AU
Words: 2.6k+
Summary: You catch the eye of Hyunjin, supernatural group Stray Kids’ resident demon member in the middle of a concert.
Note: Italics indicate telepathy.
The strong bass travelled through the entire venue, making your whole body vibrate in excitement as your favourite nine member supernatural boy group Stray Kids jumped, danced and sang their songs right in front of your eyes. It was one thing to see them behind a screen, and a completely different surreal experience to see them right in front of you, in real life. It was unfair how much more gorgeous they were, the things their beauty did to your heart. Perhaps it was also the supernatural side in them that made them so appealing–who were you kidding–it was most definitely one of the largest factors that made them so hot. A supernatural boy group with members ranging from fallen angels to incubi to vampires, werewolves, and even demons. This group had a wide variety and their fans went wild for it–who wouldn’t? These were nine super hot and super cute supernatural boys; imagine the things they're capable of that regular humans aren't.
Your thirst train of thoughts are interrupted by Hwang Hyunjin who jumps around the stage near your area, hyping himself and the crowd to one of Stray Kids’ older tracks YAYAYA. Hyunjin is a demon–though his angelic visuals make you think otherwise–and holds the role of lead rapper and main dancer. Oh god, dancer, you were always a sucker for dancers. The control they had over every part of their body, the fluid yet sharp movements they trained to achieve, and their hips–you could only wonder what a dancer’s hips were capable of doing to you.
Hyunjin never hesitates to flaunt his dance skills, he walks past your section slowly, his each move a result of a slow sensual body roll as he lets his body ride the rhythm of the loud music pumping through his veins. He gives your side of the standing pen lots of attention, walking past while trying to make eye-contact with as many fans as possible and sending them waves, winks, heart fluttering smiles you name it. He pauses in his track when he happens to make eye-contact with you, his next step forward immediately halting his body as he backtracks to the edge of the stage, closer to your section. He squats down at the edge, settling down as he peers forward to get a closer look. Seeing him just a couple meters ahead of you has your breath stuck in your throat and your heart skipping beats as your eyes take in all the beauty that is demon Hwang Hyunjin.
The stage lighting from the centre stage shine all the way down, hitting one side of his face and fittingly painting one half of him in a hazy bright red light. As if Hwang Hyunjin wasn’t already sexy enough with his demonic aura of confidence, his tall body proportions, the sensuality of the red light further intensifies it. The pure white choker he has on doesn’t help. The brightness of the colour otherwise associated with pureness and innocence is a stark contrast on the skin of a demon who oozes sexual confidence. The sight nearly has you whimpering, your knees already beginning to feel weak but you refuse to take your eyes away from him who is continues posing for the cameras.
You watch as his eyes stay fixed onto you, the two of you holding strong continuous eye contact, and you watch as his eyes then stray up and down your figure, taking in as much of you as he could from his position. When he connects his eyes with you once again, you see the deep pool of brown flash a bright red before reverting normal. The colour change sparks a curiosity within you, and you wonder whether it was a trick of the light–the stage was shining red light after all–but you don’t have long to theorise because of the stunt Hyunjin just pulled in front of you. This boy just brushed his hair away from his face in the most sexy way possible dn posed with a v sign in front of a crowd. It would probably be completely okay and normal if he had put up the v as a victory sign next to his face, or his eyes, anywhere but over his mouth. With his tongue sticking out in the valley of his fingers. With his hair still a mess after having run his hand through it just now, Hyunjin stares directly at you as he poses with a v. Over top of his mouth. Then sliding his tongue out his mouth and directly at the valley of his fingers for a brief second.
The sight has you in shock, your whole being frozen as you process the sexual gesture he had just made in public, in front of his fans. You look side to side, checking the faces of the other fans in the standing pen next to you, only to see them cheering him on as normal and no qualms. You’d think they’d have a more aggressive reaction to such an act. You look back up to the stage, finding Hyunjin in the same spot but now he has his mic up, singing his part of the song and letting his gaze roam around the crowd and no longer staring at you. You feel a twinge of disappointment and immediately Hyunjin’s eyes find yours again, looking down at you with hooded eyes as he rapped his section to the mic he cooly held in one hand, the other holding his hair away from his face. He smirks mid-rap but continues on still strong in his vocals, maintaining eye-contact with you once again but this time he winks. He sends you a wink and that’s all it takes for his eyes to switch back to the gleaming red you caught before. Except now, it’s constant. You don’t even know it but you’re staring at him with a gaping mouth, your eyes and mind finally registering what had been happening the past few seconds. His bright red eyes, the suggestive gesture, the lack of reaction from surrounding fans–
“What’s wrong, angel? You never experienced telepathy before?”
Hwang Hyunjin, one of the demon members of Stray Kids, was using his demon side to use telepathy on you with his blood red eyes and fangs out for only you to see. Fuck, that was really hot. His voice was husky and echoed within your mind, the deep bass of his voice reaching every corner. And the pet-name didn’t help. The demon himself, calling you an angel. If it weren’t for the barrier in front of you, you’d be on your knees already.
Following his question, Hyunjin sends you a flurry of images all passing by too quickly to grasp details but just enough to recognise the figures. Big hands with long slender fingers on bare skin, trailing up and down, tracing very curve. Pink pouty lips pressed on a neck, leaving soft wet kisses over the developing hickeys. A hand with a single band ring on one finger, and a thicker triple band ring on another dipping down past the hem of black shorts with a studded waistband–wait those were the shorts you were wearing. The realisation has you snapped out of a haze, and you come back to Hyunjin who is still pumping up the crowd in your section, still sitting squatted in front of you. Your eyes scan his hands, trying to look at his fingers for sign of any accessories and–oh my god. A single band on his pointer finger. A triple band ring on the finger next to it. Those were the exact hands you saw in the images Hyunjin projected to you. And the shorts were yours.
You can feel your cheeks flame up in embarrassment as you catch on to what Hyunjin was suggesting. Your mind is in a state of shock, a jumbled mess of thoughts the result of what he had just shown you. Were those his thoughts? Is that what he was thinking of right at this very moment? Mid-performance? Fuck, you can just feel yourself get wetter at the revelation, your pussy throbbing with need.
“Babygirl you gotta use your words or I’m gonna leave~” Hyunjin’s gravelly voice enters your mind once again. His tone teasing as he side-eyes you with a glint in his eyes. As much as you’d like to give him a reaction, you’re left speechless at what you had just experienced. What he had just shown you. Your mind being a mush, you can’t do anything else but continue gaping at him, your lips parted to form a response but only producing silence.
Hyunjin enjoys the fact that he’s left you speechless, it feeds his ego, feeds him power. He loves the stunned expression of yours, your mouth agape and lips forming in an ‘o’ that sends his mind down another sinful spiral of thoughts. For some reason you’d caught his eye among the hundreds. He didn’t know why and he didn’t care to search for the reason. He just knew that he liked you and that was enough. Wanting to play with you more, he sends another wave of his thoughts over to you. The content just as sensual and suggestive, but this time he puts a little extra bit of his power to channel the physical sensations too.
The second wave of images Hyunjin sends you is even more intense–in your opinion anyways–because this time you could feel the physical sensations matching the images. You can feel the cold of his metal ring as his hand sits underneath your shorts, the sensation sending a shiver up your spine. You can feel the elongated incisors that make his fangs that he lazily drags up the side of your neck. The feeling scares you, he could bite you at any moment and you’d just let him, but damn it was attractive. The tingles you felt as Hyunjin teasingly played with your neck. The last thing Hyunjin gives you is the sensation of your hands, running through his soft silky hair all clean and dry after the shower he took following the concert. He smells good, he smells alluring, and the strands of his hair feel like heavenly clouds, slipping through the gaps between your fingers as you tug and play with them.
You revel in the experience given to you by Hyunjin, even despite the fact that it was fabricated by pure imagination and mental stimulation alone but you'd take it. You were cut short, however, when Hyunjin suddenly cuts the telepathic link, his eyes reverting back to chocolate brown. With the lack of verbal response as he had demanded from you, he tuts in mock disappointment and gets up from his squat. Seeing him walk away sends your heart racing as you prepare to give into his demands. He walks a couple steps before stopping at the sound of your whimper. It was a miracle how he heard you despite the loud overwhelming ambient sounds, even considering his demon side and heightened senses. He turns his head with a smug expression, side-eyeing you to watch as you pout up at him with innocent doe eyes that conveyed sinful messages and desires. He seems to have gotten the message because he backtracks.
Since he was still standing up, you had to crane your neck up to look up at him as he stood over you. His long legs and thighs were in your direct line of sight and was it wrong for you to want to bite them? You trail your eyes slowly back up to make eye-contact with him, finding him already looking down at you. His expression hasn't exchanged much, but you can just tell how much he's enjoying this–seeing you at his mercy, begging for him to come back, begging for his teases. He thrives in the power that you give him and standing above you, him looking down at you and you up at him, paints the perfect representation of the power dynamic between the two of you. And holy fuck do you find it hot.
"This is exactly how it should be... You looking up at me from your place on the floor. Don't you agree, babygirl? Aren't you a demon's whore?" You shouldn't be surprised that he can tell what you're thinking, he's a demon after all, but it still doesn't stop the small jump of shock you make at the sound of his sensual voice echoing within your head once again. You make a move to respond to him, your lips parted to give him a response but you're still reeling from the shock of the situation. Hwang Hyunjin, the demon, had you in a private telepathic link with him. Showing you all his sinful thoughts of you, showing you all the promises he was capable of fulfilling.
"Y-yes," you manage to croak out through the shock. Your voice can barely be heard to yourself, but Hyunjin's heightened senses catch it with no problem.
"'Yes' what?" He's quick to demand, his tone authoritative and waiting on edge for you to hand him the reigns, give him full control over every inch of you.
"Yes, sir." You gulp away any last bit of nerves, you had signed yourself off to the devil–literally. But the burst of confidence that filled your veins was only temporary as Hyunjin sends another flash of images to you.
An image of him wrapping his long fingers around your neck, overlapping all the bruises that marked you as his possession. The pads of his fingers squeezing the sides of your neck as your mouth falls open, chasing for both air as well as a release. Eye contact is held as Hyunjin looks down at you squirming underneath him, his eyes dark and drinking in every emotion that crosses your face, the lust that swims in your own eyes. A flash of his hips slapping against you, the heat of his body against yours for one second then gone the next only to return in the second following and so it repeats. He’s grabbing your chin, making you face him head on so he can enjoy the blissful look on your face as you unravel at his mercy for satan knows how many times within the past few hours.
“Enjoy the rest of the concert, doll." Hyunjin's voice floats in among the midst of the flashes of thoughts he continues to send to you. It briefly brings you back to reality and you catch him straightening up again to head to the main stage where the rest of the members gathered. You don't have any time to feel any disappointment because he sends you another thought. This time you watch as Hyunjin sits on his ankles, kneeling down in front of you who is pressed up against a wall. He knelt for you but he was still the one holding all the power.
"Back alley, 15 minutes after the end."
Despite being the one on his knees, he still has the cockiest and smug expression in his face. His eyes hooded in a sensual gaze as he oozes a sexual energy. He loves the whiny mess that you are all because of him. He loves the look the desperation on your face as he sits so close to your pussy that you can feel his breath on your lower lips. Teasingly, he blows air directly on your naked vagina and you can only gasp, melting further into submission, into his control, giving yourself to him. Then suddenly, he jerks forward, his mouth attach to your pussy in a strong suck and a slow, long, dragging lick of his tongue on your clit.
"Don't sorry, angel. I'll make your post-concert depression go away."
#zyawrites#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader smut#skz x reader smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin x reader smut#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader smut#skz smut fanfic#stray kids smut fanfic#supernatural au#stray kids supernatural au#demon au#skz supernatural au#skz demon au#hyunjin demon au#hyunjin supernatural au#kpop smut#kpop x reader fanfic smut
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Hi! Can you do an analysis where after you do all the sidequests in chapter 3 and Tifa asks Cloud which outfit to wear? Thank you!
You're talking about the alone at last discovery, but you want all the dress options? I mean, the mature one is canon for her even if you don't do alone at last, so the other choices are optional within an optional scene – and the only reason it's optional is because you get the mature dress anyway.
Basically I'm just gonna do the mature dress lol
Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be medium.
Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.
You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.
Please check my master post to see if I've already covered your question, thanx
Recap time!
A pouting Cloud – who will always be my favourite Cloud cause adorable af – has been convinced by Tifa to help collect money for water filters to cover his pay for the reactor job. While they're making their rounds he gets stopped by Marle for a little heart to heart and a very important life lesson that he takes with him through the rest of the game.
Once that's over and he's changed the filter in his room, he pops next door to see Tifa.
AGH SHE'S SO CUTE! She's totally being cute on purpose too! Big eyes, hands behind her back, leaning forward, she's doing everything she can to put Cloud at ease because she's about to be nosy and we know Tifa doesn't push people.
The wide eyes, surprised “hmm?” and unguarded expression show he thought she had something else in mind besides this question lol
This isn't real!Cloud btw, it's just surprised Cloud lol
This is real!Cloud. After some back and forth between them, where Cloud seems to have a small deliberation with himself what he's ok to reveal while Tifa wears an earnest and hopeful look of expectation he'll share with her, Cloud turns away and gives some basic info that's emotionless and has very little attachment to his SOLDIER persona. A part of him seems to realise that and we see a flicker of grief cross his face. His mouth downturns and his brows pull together for a brief moment. He may well be getting a reminder of Zack's death, but it's so detached at this point he can't recall it or feel anything besides the slightest flicker. He grows confused and tries to muddle it through, but there's no conclusion. It's yet another odd feeling he has that comes with no reason why.
Tifa senses Cloud's upset and apologises for pushing him. She's very aware of his feelings and the distance between them from the long years apart.
We get a wide shot of them, showing the physical distance, which highlights their emotional distance. However, between them on the rug is the pattern of the reunion flower. This imagery has likely been placed there as a metaphor for them reuniting.
Cloud gives Tifa his profile as she talks about them maybe never meeting again and it being a strange coincidence they did. Since part of him assumed she was dead the entire time, it's likely a painful association to him and that's why he can't face her when she says it. With his head down and eyes obscured we can't really read his face very well, but from the glimpse we get, he looks hurt.
The distance between them closes when Tifa takes steps towards Cloud and he turns to her. She suggests they celebrate and Cloud looks surprised. Since he's probably wanted to ask her out since forever, the ease in which she does it makes him doubt she's sincere.
Tifa clearly becomes defensive here. The potential rejection from Cloud's “really?” has made her cross her arms over herself in a protective gesture. Her expression is hiding the hurt that Cloud might not want to go out with her. She tried to close the distance between them, but then took a small step back, indicating they're not quite comfortable with each other still. They're both wary and tip-toeing around each other, being careful. In Tifa's case, it's likely so Cloud won't up and leave all of a sudden. And for Cloud, we can guess it's because as much as he wants to be with Tifa, he feels like he always fails her and has no right to be around her.
Cloud, you're a goddamn troll and I hate you lol
Caught the smile the third time I watched this bit back. I knew he was teasing her anyway, but his micro-expressions give me life and I need to find the exact moment they appear. He wants to see her dressed up. Just the idea of her dressing up for him is making him want to smile. Cloud joking around is adorable and I wanna see more of it. This is hints of real!Cloud teasing his crush because he thinks she’s cute.
Remember during their promise scene when Cloud would try and bait a reaction out of Tifa and she'd one up him and he'd end up being the one who got stuck in his feels? Yeah, this is that.
You'd think by now Cloud would've learned not to tease Tifa if he can't handle the come back. I mean, this is a clear, check me out, pose.
When Cloud says, “Something refined,” Tifa smiles and replies “we're not kids anymore” which is definitely suggestive of her. The look on her face hints that she's got plans already and she's pleased that it seems Cloud doesn't think of her as just his childhood friend anymore. Which is why she draws attention to them not being kids any longer. She wants Cloud to think of her as a woman.
And Cloud likes the idea of them matching. It's suggestive of a couple, which he'd like to be with her, so the fact she's asked him to match her is a huge hint that she still has a crush, although Tifa's so reserved her hints are very small and take a keen eye to spot. That Cloud smiles at the thought shows how much he's looking forward to going out with her, he does this tiny little shy glance away then back to her – we were robbed of a cute date up on the plate #cries#
More Cloud smiling. He's looking forward to it, even if he replies “maybe” to Tifa saying how much fun they'll have. He was asked out and agreed. That's how dates work. We were robbed #cries even more#
It's an introspective moment for him. He's likely wanted to ask her out for years and this is how easy it was the entire time lol
Conclusion
Get married, make babies, we're getting old here!
Cloud isn't pressured into going out with Tifa, the amount he smiles during this exchange shows he's excited to have a date with her – even if they're not calling it a date. Tifa got Cloud to open up a little and they closed some of the emotional and physical distance between them. It's a step on the path to them becoming a couple.
I say a lot that they have good eye contact and this is where they begin. Before this moment, Cloud looked at her, but didn't hold her gaze as much. After Marle telling him to try more, he's putting himself out there for her and making that emotional connection. Their eye contact in this scene isn't there at the start, because of the seriousness of the conversation at times, but Tifa's very sympathetic to Cloud's needs and does her best to cheer him up. It works because he teases her and by the end, they're on their way to that moment in the corkscrew tunnel when neither of them broke eye contact even after getting up.
#final fantasy 7 remake spoilers#final fantasy 7 remake analysis#alone at last#Cloti#cloud/tifa#cloud strife#tifa lockheart
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Veritas Vos Liberabit V
The truth will set you free.
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Tag List: @the-british-koala @ilearnedthatfromethepizzaman @shadowalley
“You’re not fooling anyone,” John muttered, watching his friend from the doorway.
He’d been standing there for the past few minutes, waiting for Sherlock to acknowledge him. It really didn’t come as a surprise when he didn’t, but John figured he’d take the opportunity to study Sherlock.
The good doctor certainly wasn’t as perceptive as Sherlock. He would never claim to be. He did, however, believe himself to be rather smart, especially on the subject of human feelings. Now, John was not an idiot when it came to Sherlock, and he could tell that his best friend was very much becoming obsessive in his effort to solve whatever mystery he seemed to think revolved around you.
There were certainly some things that made you special, but you were rather open about your past and your own thoughts. It was actually a bit frustrating to John that Sherlock was so concerned about learning everything there was to know about you, yet he hadn’t just asked you. Mycroft had been a bit miffed about his interaction with you the day before, and had been around first thing in the morning to complain about it.
John found it rather funny how put out the elder Holmes brother had been, but he noticed the telltale glint in his eyes. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that Mycroft had fallen victim to your charms just as every other person he’d encountered had.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Sherlock huffed, slipping his coat on while he stared out of the window.
John blew a sigh from his lips, wondering how somebody so incredibly smart could be so blind to their own emotions at the same time.
“Why don’t you ask her on a date, Sherlock?”
He’d never seen Sherlock’s head whip around so quickly. The man looked terrified, which, to be fair, wasn’t far off the mark. Sherlock’s heart pounded against his ribs, a strange reaction to such a mundane suggestion, to be sure. He sputtered for a moment, unsure if he should be angry or appalled.
He settled for some weird combination of the two.
“I don’t date, John,” he spat rather forcefully, “Especially not-”
“John!” You called in greeting, taking the stairs two at a time.
The smile on your face was radiant, and Sherlock glared down at his own chest when the rhythmic beating of his heart only seemed to speed up. You were holding your phone to your ear still, a muffled voice talking from the other end.
“Sherlock,” you greeted, “Hi.”
He pulled his lips into a smile, but continued to study your every move.
“Yes, yes,” you replied to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “I’m perfectl-”
You frowned at the phone briefly, before a rather embarrassed, yet fond, smile replaced it.
“Dad, stop worrying so much,” you breathed out a laugh. “I have to go.”
There was more talking on the other end, which you were incapable of stopping, before you finally hurried out an, “I love you too,” and hung up.
“Sorry, he worries too much,” you explained to your friends, slipping your phone into your back pocket as you approached John.
There was no hesitation as the two of you embraced in a brief hug. Sherlock found himself pouting- no, not pouting, he doesn’t do that- at the apparent familiarity between you and John. Obviously, you were both comfortable with one another. He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher if it was a friendly comfort or a romantic one.
“Maybe he should,” John teased with a smile, “You did walk towards the man with the gun, rather than away.”
The two of you shared a little laugh, amplifying Sherlock’s sudden uneasiness at the thought of there being some sort of romantic involvement written between the lines of your exchanges.
But why would John suggest that he ask you on a date if he was interested?
This, he acknowledged with some amount of annoyance, was the exact reason why he despised human connections. How was he expected to just read your intentions and John’s intentions and his own intentions?
“Hey, did you want something too?” You inquired, suddenly a lot closer to Sherlock than you’d been previously.
He blinked, caught off guard by your change in position. Clearly, he’d been inside his own head for too long again.
A few deductions paired with his piercing gaze was all it took for him to realize that you were referring to food.
“I’ll have whatever you have.”
John didn’t need to examine the scene any further to realize it was another one of Sherlock’s ploys to understand you better. Of course his friend wasn’t going to normalize his strategy. He wanted to solve you, like a puzzle.
John hid his flash of annoyance as he ordered the takeout, trying to discover another way for Sherlock to realize that you might actually be good for him. Now, John wasn’t much of a matchmaker, but he thought the two of you would go rather perfectly together, and Mrs. Hudson agreed.
He just needed Sherlock to see that.
And maybe you too, since you didn’t seem like the type to just swoon over someone.
“I’m going to pick it up,” John announced, surprising even himself at the sudden declaration.
You stood up, obviously ready to escort him, but John shook his head.
“Keep Sherlock out of trouble,” John argued, nodding his direction to his flatmate. “I’ll be right back.”
There was a clear hesitation, like you didn’t think it was the courteous thing to do, but John brushed you off. He was going to make a stop to see Mrs. Hudson and have a quick chat about the two of you, the last thing he needed was you tagging along.
“Be safe!” You called out after him as he descended the stairs, waving a hand goodbye.
“Are you engaging in romantic affairs with John?” The question was fired in your direction the minute John was out of earshot.
You opened your mouth, then closed it again, your head tilting to the side at the strange turn of events.
“I-what?” You fumbled for the correct words, giggling a little as you did so. “No, John is just a friend.”
Sherlock hummed, not entirely convinced as he looked you over. His mind was moving a mile a minute, categorizing each piece of information he could discern from your person. It wasn’t a lot, but it was helping to build a more sturdy profile of who you were.
“Sherlock,” you interrupted, pressing your hand to his cheek.
His mind stopped.
Billions of neurons ceased fire, a momentary blip in their ever progressing task. It wasn’t like a sudden braking, where the tires screeched against the ground and the force of motion pushed the passengers forward with a potency capable of snapping necks. No, this was a total pause of everything that made Sherlock, Sherlock.
For just a fraction of a fraction, all he knew was the world being born in the fire of your eyes, and the spark created from the gentle warmth of your touch.
And then, it began again.
The world was spinning once more, his brain working just as it had before, only, tucked in the very back of his mind was the feeling of your hand on his cheek.
“What do you see when you deduce me?”
Your question was barely a whisper in the charged air between the magnetism of his mind and your heart.
“Contradictions,” he answered, staring directly into your gaze as he did so.
There was an echo of a smile on your lips, a brief upturn as you imagined how that might look. It was impossible to perceive the world through his mind, but you tried nonetheless.
“I feel like that’s not a good thing,” you joked, pulling your hand from his cheek and your eyes to your lap.
A coolness replaced your warmth, and Sherlock frowned as he filed that bit of information away.
“It makes you more interesting than most people,” he admitted on a murmur, watching with a bit of concern as you rubbed just above your heart.
The expression on your face was one of discomfort.
“How’d you hurt it?” He nodded where you were still positioning your hand, an attempt to shield the area from further harm.
You leveled him with a stare, not missing a beat.
“Sex,” you replied. “Got a bit more rough than expected.”
“You’re lying,” he tried, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the spot you were injured in, like if he did so for long enough he might be able to actually figure it out.
“Am I?” Your face betrayed nothing, a faux innocence in your gaze.
“What was his name?” Sherlock challenged.
“Who said anything about a man?” You shot back, rising to the provocation he posed.
“How’d it happen?”
“You want all of the intimate details?” You tsked, running your tongue along your teeth. “Sherlock Holmes, you are a surprise.”
His lips turned up for a moment.
“You are an excellent liar.”
You maintained eye contact from beneath your lashes, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’m a bit more like my uncle than I like to give myself credit for.”
The rest of the wait for John was spent in silence as you continued to observe one another- you with an air of disinterest and Sherlock with an eagerness he could barely contain. It seemed the more he learned about you, the more questions he had.
John looked less than pleased when he entered the room to find you guys were not, in fact, making out on the couch like horny teenagers.
“John!” You perked up, breathing in the smell of warm takeout.
“You’re a life saver,” you moaned, causing Sherlock’s hand to twitch at the sinful noise.
The tips of John’s ears turned red, but he didn’t comment on it as he laid a spread of food on the table.
“I hope everyone’s hungry,” he said, gesturing to the food, “I ordered a bit too much.”
“I can’t believe I missed out on this for so long,” you commented, twirling a pile of steaming vegetable lo mein on your fork before you even sat down.
“Was your dad not a fan of it?” John asked, taking a seat by your side as he grabbed himself a plate.
Sherlock still hadn’t gotten up from his spot in his chair, but he was attentive to the conversation between John and you.
“Oh, uh, it wasn’t really something we did when I was younger,” you explained, not giving a lot of detail, but not outright lying either.
Sherlock frowned. You had never really told John a lie. Actually, you hadn’t really told anyone a lie, besides him, and even that was something you admitted to right away.
He hesitantly filed away the belief that you were an honest person in the special place reserved for facts about you as he stood up to join the two of you.
From there on, Sherlock was more of an active participant in the chatting, though he didn’t find it nearly as dreadful as he thought it would be. John was all too happy to have him joining in, still rather put out that his plan hadn’t panned out the way he was hoping.
Though, before he came back up the stairs with the food, Mrs. Hudson had assured him that there was no way that Sherlock Holmes and (Y/N) Morningstar wouldn’t inevitably gravitate towards one another.
And who could argue with Mrs. Hudson’s intuition?
#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock x reader#sherlock imagine#vvl
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